In today’s discussions about privilege, the term alone can make some people zone out. The conversation often leads to groans about how overly sensitive society has become, or dismissals of what it means to be “privileged.” However, it’s crucial to understand that privilege doesn’t imply that individuals on the “privileged” side, say straight people, never face challenges — it simply means they’re not targeted for their identity.
I approach privilege from a unique perspective. I find myself on a spectrum, having significant privilege in some areas while lacking in others. On one hand, I’m white, cisgender (my gender identity aligns with my biological sex), and I was raised in a supportive home that provided me with educational opportunities without the burden of crippling debt. On the flip side, I identify as a woman, I’m queer, and I don’t conform to conventional body standards. This duality allows me to empathize with both those who feel unheard and those who take up space unwarranted.
Every woman can relate to the irritation of having a man jump into discussions about feminism or women’s issues, often drowning out our voices. It’s as if we need a man to explain why we shouldn’t have access to reproductive rights or to justify the dangers we face daily. That kind of interruption is not only frustrating but also dismissive of our lived experiences.
Conversely, as a white and cisgender individual, I occasionally feel I have a right to be heard. This is especially true in environments where my experiences are validated and my voice is amplified. I’ve noticed that when I’m used to being listened to, it’s easy to assume that I’ve earned that attention. However, sometimes it’s simply because of my skin color.
For instance, on a recent road trip, I was with a friend who isn’t white. While she patiently waited for assistance at a shop, I wandered off. When I returned, she had been ignored for a long time, yet the clerk immediately approached me instead, apologizing to me for the delay. That moment highlighted how people of color often face microaggressions daily that reinforce their societal marginalization.
Microaggressions, those subtle yet harmful exchanges, accumulate over time and can have an overwhelming effect on mental well-being. Women, too, experience this through casual remarks that undermine our worth. These small, insidious comments contribute to a pervasive feeling of being undervalued.
This awareness is vital. Even if we believe we’re advocating for our friends, we must recognize that we don’t belong in every conversation. Sometimes, our voices can overshadow those of others who are more affected by the issue at hand. It’s essential to understand that feeling entitled to speak up often reflects our own insecurities and need for validation.
In situations where a friend faces discrimination, I might feel compelled to express sympathy. However, that can inadvertently shift the focus back onto my feelings rather than theirs. Instead of saying, “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” I could simply acknowledge the wrongness of the situation without placing the burden of my emotions on them.
When we occupy privileged positions, insisting on being heard can inadvertently signal that our feelings are more significant than those suffering oppression. While we can leverage our privilege to uplift marginalized communities, the first step often involves listening rather than speaking.
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In summary, understanding privilege is a complex but necessary endeavor. It’s crucial to recognize when to step back and allow others to be heard, fostering a more inclusive discourse. Listening is just as important as speaking, especially when it comes to advocating for those who are often silenced.