Starting to Talk About Race, pt. 2: Understanding Privilege

For Part 1, go here.

Before continuing on with my discussion, I wanted to address something I wrote in my previous post. I wrote that if the reader disagreed with my modified definition of racism, their dissent didn't matter because it wasn't their perspective. To help understand what I meant like that, I want to talk about a Lego sculpture. Imagine a seemingly order less mass of Lego, but when you shine a light on it a certain way, you see the silhouette of a dragon. Standing a few feet from you, someone is looking at the same sculpture but because of where they are standing, a different light is casting a shadow of a butterfly. Same sculpture, two different perspectives that are both valid. The difference being not just where you are standing, but the light that is casting the shadow. I wanted to try and clarify that because in this post I want to try and tackle privilege, and clarifying what I meant, and how our background and education shape it, will hopefully help me get my point across.

If you would like a visual for the concept above, check this out:

Like the last post, let's talk about how privilege might be generally defined, and then modify it to how it can be used from a different context.

I remember when I first heard someone talk about privilege in a more social justice context, I thought that it was stupid. I wasn't rich, I didn't go to a private school, my family doesn't have a jet; my family worked for what we had, nothing was just handed to us. I had to wear knock-off shoes from Payless when growing up! (Aside: I don't have anything against Payless.) For me privilege = wealth. This is what makes privilege a tricky topic, it's easy to see ourselves as not benefiting from it, and seeing others who are more wealthy as the ones who are privileged. While money certainly plays a part in privilege (socio-economic privilege is a very real thing, and I would argue the foundation of the current chaotic election), it is only one of many ways that a person or group can get a leg up on others. Privilege can also be described as having unimpeded access towards a certain social objective, such as higher education or marriage.

Areas such as education, country or state of birth, socioeconomic status, sexual orientation, gender identity, and race, are just the tip of the iceberg. How your parent's and grandparents fit into the above list affects your level of privilege as well. With the Lego sculpture, the light is each person's privilege, and it grows lighter or dimmer depending on the demographics of that person.

The two people are standing in different spots looking at the same sculpture, but there is a barrier making it difficult to see what the other is seeing. Behind one person, there is a strong bright light making the image easy to see, and the other has a dim light. To make matters worse, it's pretty clear the stronger light is making it harder for the person with the dim light to make out their image. In this scenario, it would be easy to go around the barrier and see that there is a different image. It would also be easy to understand that it is harder to see.

Unfortunately, getting to the other person's perspective is rarely easy, because it takes effort on our part to understand what they are seeing. What happens with privilege is that we don't have to understand because there are not any repercussions for ourselves. We express sympathy that the other person is struggling, but simply ignore the problem. We say they should just look harder, but don't admit that they shouldn't have to.

This is the difference between sympathy and empathy. Sympathy allows us to acknowledge a problem without addressing it, being able to move on without our lives being affected (which is the essence of privilege). Empathy requires effort and putting the other person first.

So how do we act when we're faced with our privilege? In the next post, I'm planning on talking about guilt and how focusing on it prevents us from truly helping others.

Starting to Talk About Race

For Part 2, go here.

It's the end of September, General Conference is almost here, and the election is in a little over a month. There are so many things that I could write about, and I have even begun a few posts here and there, but nothing felt right. Recently, I've been engaging in more and more conversations about race; in the classroom when discussing identity and outside influences, in general conversation, and on Facebook. One thing that has been standing out in these interactions is that, in general, we lack a shared vocabulary and understanding of what racism is, so that when we have conversations, it is easy to get flustered, because while we're using the same words, we aren't using the same language.

I want to make something incredibly clear: I am not an expert at talking about race. I am just a white guy with a little  grasp of a few concepts that might help when having conversations. I'm also going to point out that this is primarily addressed to my fellow Whites. In cases of race, I don't think it is appropriate to point out the best way another group should talk to Caucasians about race. Instead, when I give a suggestion on how to handle a situation, it is with the white perspective in mind.

In order to give more time to this discussion, I have been thinking about breaking my thoughts up into a few different posts, and because of this, I figured that the best place to start would be to talk about what exactly racism is. To do this, let's talk about the phrase, "I can't be racist, I'm_______."

As a white person, this used to make no sense. For me, racism meant not liking someone because of their skin color, which, I'd be willing to argue, is the way a lot of white people define racism. Because this is the functional definition from a white perspective, hearing this can make the person defensive or even attacked. It can also lead to this enlightened epithet shared with me by some guy:

"I'm proud to be black said the black man.
I'm proud to be Asian said the Asian man.
I'm proud to be Hispanic said the Hispanic man.
I'm proud to be white said the racist."

Grammatical errors put aside, I wouldn't be surprised if something like this regularly crossed people's mind when being told that they could be racist when it is an impossibility for the other person. Again, they feel attacked and become defensive.

(As an aside, I think it should go without saying that I disagree with the statement. Generally, we don't express our pride through our skin color, but through our cultural heritage: Irish, Italian, Scottish, Greek, etc. Also, I think it is telling that of the four groups above, Black Americans have the hardest time linking their family's cultural heritage to a specific country in Africa. As Mormons, this should be particularly disturbing to us, as linking ourselves to our ancestors is an integral part of our worship, and for those descended from slaves, that task may be near impossible. It's commendable that the church works to do what it can, and genetic mapping may help, but that severed link to the past is just one of the many bricks in the facade that helped create institutional racism.)

The problem with feeling attacked and becoming defensive, is that it takes the possibility of a meaningful conversation and throws it out the window. Empathy becomes less likely.

So, what does a person mean when they say, "I can't be racist, I'm_______." To answer that, we need to look at the definition of racism a little differently. Instead of looking at it as one race vs. another, let's consider it as society valuing one group over others and creating an imbalance in access to resources that lead to success. Think of it as Top/Down Racism. When looking at it this way, the predominate group is the only one that can be racist, because they are the only one reaping the full benefits from that society while the other groups typically have to work harder to achieve similar success.

It is possible that you just read that and thought that it is just a bunch of liberal B.S. and that is not how our society works at all. To respond, I am going to lovingly suggest that what you think doesn't matter, because it isn't your perspective. (Hopefully, I'll address Privilege in the future, along with subjects like White Guilt and Implicit Bias. But for the moment, the response above to the expanded definition of racism is an example of how privilege shapes how we perceive our society.)

The question of perspective is important, because it is the first step towards an empathetic response, and in this case the response will make the difference between a meaningful exchange and the possibility of a new best friend, or a continuation of the shouting that plagues the national dialogue.

So what would an empathetic response be? How about any of these:

• "I'm sorry, I must have offended you."
• "I'm trying to learn more about racism, and how it affects everyone. Would you be willing to talk about your experiences?"
• "Some guy wrote a blog post about how I should respond to that comment. He's an idiot, but I still want to understand what you mean by that. There's a _______ nearby, can I buy you a ________ and talk about it?"

Try to avoid:

• "Clearly, you don't know what racism means."
• "That's offensive, how dare you."
• That four line freeform poem above about only whites being racist and yelling stuff.

To finish, talking about racism is hard, and despite best efforts and well-meaning comments, chances are we'll still make missteps, offend, and alienate. If that happens, the best thing to do is listen and understand. The main thing is that we try to understand and accept the validity of others' perspectives that we may not have shared experiences with.