Hey, professor, you wanted to see me?
Yeah, Mark, close the door, let’s talk for a bit. Have a seat.
During class today, when we were talking about privilege, you got quiet.
That’s because I didn’t have anything to say.
I think that is unlikely. You are usually very talkative and insightful during class. And you were more than just quiet, you were uncomfortable and closed off.
Nah, I’m good.
Mark, look, you aren’t being graded on this. You showed up to class and got your work done. Grade already recorded. This is just a discussion and a check-in. What happened today?
Look, I–I just learned early on in this program that when it comes to topics like this, no one wants to know what I have to say.
And why do you feel that way?
I’m a white guy. I’m the minority here and no matter what I say is going to be wrong. And when I have tried to share things in this program, I’ve been attacked.
Okay, let’s look at the big picture here. You are working on getting a Masters degree in Social Work. You are in a cohort of primarily women, in fact about 80 per cent of the students are women, and it is safe to say that all of them are feminists.
That’s fine. I’m a feminist too.
So am I. Now why do you feel like you are attacked when you share your opinion on the topic of privilege?
I don’t feel attacked, I am attacked.
Why do you feel attacked?
Okay, okay. Look, a couple of weeks back, I tried sharing my opinion on gay marriage in a class where the topic came up. I don’t have a problem with gay people, I really don’t. I have gay friends, I believe in gay rights. I know you’re gay. And I’m not Mormon like most of the people here, but I am Christian, and it’s not so easy, you know? I see gay people at my internship and I was talking to my pastor about that once and he told me that any time I choose to provide service to gay people, then I am choosing them over God. And so I shared that in class, that I felt divided, and a bunch of the students interrupted me and got angry and told me that if I wanted to be a social worker, I would have to quit my church, and no one would listen. They attacked me for being a Christian white guy. So now I just don’t share my opinion any more.
Okay, to start, you have heard me talk about the ‘yes, and’ principle in class before. Two realities can co-exist at the same time. The sun can warm me, and it can burn me. Food can nourish me and make me gain weight. My mom can have two gay kids that she loves and supports and still not know where she stands on gay marriage. And you can be a Christian white social worker whose religious beliefs and professional beliefs don’t always line up. There is room for contradictions in all of us.
Yeah, I get that.
So I’m going to be tough on you before I am supportive. Is that okay?
Yes, I trust you and your intentions.
There is an absolute irony about you feeling attacked.
An irony? How so?
Be fair, be strengths-focused. Why do you think your comments upset the people around you?
Because they are women with strong opinions, and anything but the answer they want is the wrong answer.
I don’t think that is the case at all. Try again, why do you think they are upset.
I honestly don’t know. Help me out here.
You understand the concept of privilege, right?
Sure, those in the majority have inherent privileges in their day to day living that those in minorities don’t have to deal with.
Give me a few examples.
As a man, I can be hired and expect a fair wage, where women often get harassed and paid way less than men for doing the same job. As a white guy, I see my majority represented everywhere in American leadership, I have better access to scholarships, jobs, pay, legal representation, college opportunities, etc.
Excellent. We had a conversation about privilege on the first day of class. The more majority statuses you fall into, the greater your privilege opportunities. White, Christian, male, young, fit or thin, able-bodied, gender-defined, straight, healthy, middle class or above.
Yeah, I remember. We talk about it in all of our classes a little bit.
Since your legs work, you don’t have to worry about whether or not a wheelchair ramp is available to your second floor classes. Since you were born male, and you define as male, you get to use the men’s room without having to worry about what people think because you are transgender. Since you are young and not elderly, you can drive a car without everyone around you assuming you are slow or lacking purpose, everyone being impatient around you.
Right, I get all that.
You get it in the head, not sure you get it totally in the heart. They don’t always line up.
Okay, what does that have to do with all this.
You are in a graduate program in a field that advocates for social justice. This is one of the few programs that actually has a lot of material on privilege and its implications, one of the few programs that has a majority of women. This program actually gets you to think about and confront difficult ideas on these topics.
So what makes my experience here ironic?
Mark, when it comes to big conversations like this in the public, who do you think has the most to say? Who do you think gets the final say?
The majority. Men. White men.
Absolutely. And who feels silenced?
Women. Gay people. Everyone that falls into those non-majority categories.
Absolutely. But it is about more than feeling silenced. It’s different on almost every level. Let me give you an example. You are married, right?
Okay, when you go out in public, do you hold your wife’s hand?
Yeah, sure. All the time.
And do you feel watched, criticized, discriminated against?
No, why would I?
I’m a 36 year old man. I am dating a guy. A few Sundays ago, we are out walking, and we are holding hands, nothing else. Just walking, talking, and holding hands. And I hadn’t done that in a while. But everyone we walk by, I feel a nervousness creep up in my chest. I’m watching them to see if they notice us holding hands, every person we pass. And I’m expecting them to say things like ‘gross’ or ‘fags’ or ‘disgusting.’ I’m expecting someone to just look up and say ‘we don’t care what you do in your home, but do you have to do that out here?’ And I’m walking around and I’m nervous, even though I’m trying to relax.
Wait, I’m not done. So this guy and I, we see this couple sitting on the concrete stairs in front of us. An older white guy with a beard, and an older black woman, and both of them are in dirty clothes and look like they have probably been using drugs recently. As as we get closer, they both sit up and I’m waiting for one of them to say something rude to us. The lady, she says loudly, ‘Hey!’ and I take a step back, nervous, not sure if she is going to ask for money or say something rude to us. And I say ‘yeah?’ and she says ‘I just wanted to say, I think you two are cute.’ And I say ‘thank you’ and the guy I’m holding hands with and I both smile and laugh about this.
Just a minute, I’m almost done. So I’m walking away, and I’m thinking about how terrible it is that in 2015, I have to be nervous about something as simple as holding hands with a guy that I like, and how straight people never have to think about it. And that’s privilege. And then I realize that because I’m in the middle class and I have an apartment and a bank account, I see this couple and I automatically assume they want to ask for money, and they probably think that every person who walks by them thinks they are going to ask for money. People avoid eye contact, treat them rudely, get scared when they say ‘hey’ because they assume these things about them. And they have to live with that. And this woman, she’s not only poor, she’s a woman, and she’s black, and she has all these other things in her mind. I’m worried about what people will say because I’m gay. She’s worried about sexual assault and judgments and where she is going to sleep tonight. And that is privilege. And it sucks that we live in a world based around it.
I… okay. Yeah. That sucks.
So here is the irony. You are feeling marginalized in one class by a few people who didn’t like what you had to say. You felt attacked by some students in your cohort in a program that is all about social justice.
What makes that ironic?
Well, simply put: that feeling you felt in class? Feeling silenced, disrespected, like no one around you wanted to hear what you had to say?
That’s how I felt all the time as a gay kid growing up. Every day. That is how many of the women in your class feel in this patriarchal world of men. That is how everyone who doesn’t fall in the majority feels all the time.
Yeah. And you felt it once. And so now you aren’t talking any more.
I–yeah–that–wow. Okay. So that’s what it feels like to not be privileged.
Now let me give you credit. You have a good brain. An intuitive mind. You care about people. You advocate for others. You are a good student and a good social worker. And this is a ‘yes, and’ thing again. You are privileged. You are going to have to learn how to listen to others. How to feel marginalized and be okay with it. How to share your experiences and conflicts with others, and listen when they don’t agree with you, and ask questions, and learn how others feel, not just with your head but with your heart. You don’t get to shut down. You get to be uncomfortable and learn. Because…
Because that is how others feel all the time.
Exactly. So next time the conversation starts, I want you to join in, because we need your voice. It’s a good one.
Thank you, professor. You’ve given me a lot to think about.
Thank you for being willing to think about it. See you next week, Mark.
Yeah, see you next week.