Myths

A guest post by Doug Irvin, whose story reminds me much of my First Reader’s tales. 

 

Let’s talk about – – – Privilege.

It’s hard to get into a decent debate these days without someone playing the Privilege card.

“You don’t understand the struggles, because you were raised to be privileged.”

“You’re so privileged you don’t even recognize it as such.”

 

Okay, admittedly, some people are privileged. Some people have the road eased before them, with every door an automatic one, opening wide as they approach.

But what is wildly incongruous is that they aren’t normally referred to when the privilege accusation is thrown.

 

Who is? Mostly those who haven’t been privileged at all.

To give an example, I’ll use myself.

 

I was born in a poor, blue collar family. My mom stayed home, tending all eight children; my father worked as an air craft mechanic. He made good money, but unfortunately, he spent the majority of in on his hobby: drinking. Beer wasn’t so bad, but if someone induced him to have some of the heavy stuff, Watch Out! Many a night did I bed down with my mother and younger siblings in an old station wagon, at the local park. I guess that’s privilege. I was just blinded by the situation at the time and didn’t recognize it.

 

After I separated from the military, I decided to further my education. I enrolled at a local community college.

 

Actually, I enrolled several times. My paperwork would get lost or misplaced. Or my Veterans educational benefits would be delayed – sometimes for months. I took five quarters spaced over two years. Then I had to quit and get a job because my bills were getting outrageous.

 

On the other hand – and I mention this simply as a comparison – the VA coordinator on campus spent hours developing case work for several black students, who all managed to complete their requirements for an AA degree, and then matriculate to a local college or university.

 

I’m glad I didn’t oppress them with my privilege. I don’t blame them for trying and succeeding. I just wish the VA coordinator had deemed me worthy of half the toil they each generated. But privilege allowed me to study on my own, without accreditation for my efforts.

 

And later, working as a machinist, I saw several females who were advanced, who clearly did not have the skills to do their jobs. I know, because on at least two occasions the foremen handed me the job to do. Very precise, tedious, finicky work it was, too. But I made it happen.

 

At a later – much later – job, I was accused of verbally attacking a woman, whom I barely had contact with. I had to ask the supervisor who she was, even. And when she was pointed out, I didn’t recognize her. My crime? She overheard me chatting with another employee, amiably, on a couple of social issues prevalent at the time. Not even something we were encountering on the job. I didn’t even know she was there.

 

Once again my privilege struck out blindly to force others down.

 

My view of privilege is much different from the current definition. The guy making $100K a year and driving a sleek Mercedes? I knew his history. He struggled through college working two jobs, finally graduating a year after others did. His primary food source his senior year was Velveeta sandwiches. Without the mayo. He supplemented it with peanut butter sandwiches. His junior year was strictly peanut butter. Sometimes he had bread with it.

And his last car was a 20 year old clunker that would have made him a millionaire – had he invested in Shell Oil instead of just buying the product.

 

I don’t find it in me to see him as privileged because he drives a better car than I did, and makes more money than I did.

 

And the rather elegant woman who dresses immaculately and speaks with a careful diction that reeks high class? She grew up in a trailer, her single mother working long hours to provide for her. And those clothes? Early on, she made them herself. In fact, that’s how she started her business of fine couture, with a select clientele.

 

In fact, in nearly every case, the people derided for being Privileged had to work hard against tremendous odds to find success.

 

Ironically, those accusing them have had life handed to them, attending college financed by their parents, and spending their time objecting and protesting, instead of studying and researching.

 

But we have had immeasurable amounts of privilege – if you can call it that.

We’ve had to struggle, to strive, to drive ourselves to achieve whatever success we’ve achieved. We’ve paid a harsh price, and seldom complained about it. Because we knew others had similar challenges, and they didn’t need to hear about ours.

 

Privilege is mostly myth, pushed by those who want everything handed to them without effort. But you can’t gain true privilege without deprivation – a lack of privilege.

 

And those protesting against the privileged? They have the most (unearned) privilege of all.

 

So, I suppose they are protesting out of guilt?