The idea of privilege has been on my mind as of late. The topic seems to be coming to me from all sorts of angles but my clearest view of what privilege meant happened to me when taking the ambulatory pressure cuff back to the hospital. (The adventure that was the background of my last blog entry.)
Maybe I should start by talking about what privilege is to me.
Growing up, I understood privilege from the angle of someone who had a silver spoon in their mouth. By that definition, my family and my husband’s family definitely do not come from a place of privilege. We grew up in what we could typically call the lower middle class from factory workers to the army in the day it truly did not pay. In my case, we never wanted for food nor a roof over our heads. My parents were able to stretch whatever they had to ensure new shoes and glasses for all of us. In grade three I even started getting new clothes. I got to be the first to wear it! By grade five I got amazing hand me downs from a great friend of mine that made me feel so lovely. By then, things were better for my folks.
I was able to start working as a newspaper delivery girl and then as a babysitter, so I started to have money for what I wanted. I got my first new bike. It only took me 100 hours of babysitting to save up for it.
All in all, though we never wanted for essentials, money was not where I got my sense of privilege.
Despite that, my feelings of privilege are multi-layered. Last time I mentioned a few. The first is the privilege of the children my husband and I got to guide to the age of adulthood. Added to my family, I have a job that keeps me on my toes that I love…at least most of the time.
I have a roof over my head and more than enough food, as anyone who meets me would see. All basic needs have been met all my life.
The thing about privilege is how we don’t always recognise it since we assume everyone has the same opportunities we have. We must be able to see what we have that others strive for or wish for to truly recognise our privilege. (Thank you Michael Kimmel for opening up my mind.)
There is privilege about being part of the majority or the ruling class. There is privilege in being educated. There is even privilege in being cute, not beautiful , but cute.
As you may know, I am a teacher which means I had the privilege of going to school. I live near a large city which means I got to go back to school evenings on a couple of occasions when curiosity got the better of me.
I am Caucasian, and though I speak a second language, I speak the language of the majority in my province. I could get by unnoticed.
I am also lucky to not be unfortunate looking nor beautiful. I have an open face that does not scare people off. My middle age motherly looks don’t threaten anyone, neither men nor women.
My privilege really hit home when I was at the hospital to bring back the ambulatory pressure cuff. It was after the ISIS attacks on Beirut and Paris. I was walking around with a monitor around my waist, a huge grey wire sticking out from my shirt around my neck and the pressure cuff under my sleeve.
I walked through the hospital cafeteria, stopping when the blood pressure cuff would start to tighten, trying to focus on relaxing, as I glanced down to the monitor around my waist. While I was there a strange alarm sounded. At least no one seemed to panic. When I asked the employees what it meant, no one knew.
My mind jumped quickly to what if I had looked different. What if I was not the blue eyed middle aged woman but a man with dark hair. Would my look of concentration and looking at something tied around my waist been viewed differently in the crowded super hospital cafeteria especially now with the world on high alert.
I hope I never forget all the layers of my privilege…
If you are interested in listening to the Ted Talk that spurred my thoughts about privilege, I invite you to watch Michael Kimmel’s talk about gender equality. It is good food for thought…