“S
hutting your eyes and
acting like the problem is
going to go away — it’s not
going to go away. You have
to actively oppose it. Intercept it. And that is
how we solve problems. You cannot sit idly,
basking in your own privilege, and hopefully
things go away — it doesn’t work like that,”
Omar, a University of Florida student and a
protest organizer, told The Nation.
When
white
supremacist
Richard
Spencer arrived to speak at the University
of Florida, more than 2,500 students
protested and drowned out his speech.
It was a victory against not just Spencer,
but also against a school administration
protesters felt was content to turn a blind
eye to white supremacy as long as it did
not directly attack them.
Spencer refused to relent. In November,
he requested to rent out a venue to speak
at the University of Michigan. When
University
President
Mark
Schlissel
and the University’s Board of Regents
explained they would have to let Spencer
speak because of his First Amendment
rights, the campus erupted in anger.
There’s plenty of coverage in The Daily
about what activists, professors and city
residents have to say about Spencer. But
even more than the protests themselves,
I was interested in how those disagreeing
with Schlissel’s decision constructed
their argument.
Privilege is an intriguing concept.
Here’s your textbook definition: “A group
of unearned cultural, legal, social and
institutional rights extended to a group
based on their social group membership.”
It was coined by Peggy McIntosh, a
women studies scholar at Wellesley
Centers for Women, in the 1980s, but
oppressed groups have long known of
it on an instinctive level. For instance,
in the 1930s, W.E.B. Dubois identified a
“psychological wage” that allowed poor
whites to feel socially superior to poor
blacks despite their economic parity.
The most prevalent of these is white
privilege, or socially-bestowed benefits
received for being white. In American
society, whiteness implies normalness
(one is not foreign). Whiteness suggests
safety (a white teenager wearing a hoodie
on the street is not as readily labeled a
“thug” as a Black teen). Whiteness says
solvency (one is not lazy and is employed).
Most of all, whiteness protects one from
the threat of white supremacy.
In the case of Spencer speaking at
the University, the argument would be
that the administration was blind to the
suffering of students of color because
of its white privilege. Spencer and his
army of white nationalists would not
directly
threaten
the
majority-white
white regents and administration. So the
question becomes: Is Schlissel making a
privileged statement? Can the University
administration be discredited for this
privilege? Are being aware of one’s
privilege and allowing a white nationalist
on campus compatible?
In order to think about the implications
of something like privilege, however, we
must be able to define its boundaries.
The political lexicon of our generation,
especially terms relating to identity,
is nebulous even to the most informed
scholars. Terms like “microaggression”
have morphed into something that often
deviates greatly from the intentions of
the creator.
The concept of privilege, for example,
becomes problematic when it is twisted to
silence opposition. Telling someone they
have no right to speak because of their
privileged background is unconstructive,
and ascribing a uniform label of privilege
across a single group discounts the
challenges and experiences of individuals.
One may be born with privilege, but may
have also been born in a low-income
household, or with a single parent or dealt
with any number of obstacles that most
of their peers were fortunate not to face.
And then there are the people who claim
“white privilege” doesn’t exist. That is
certainly a position I acknowledge — if
you were white but born with scarce
opportunities and worked harder than
your well-off peers to reach your position
in life, I can see how the whole concept of
privilege can sound like a sick joke.
However, humans can often be blind
to the benefits they receive in life.
Psychologists Tom Gilovich of Cornell
University and Shai Davidai of The New
School for Social Research explain this
as humanity’s fundamental propensity
to exaggerate difficulties in life and
undervalue the help we receive. They liken
life to cycling or running, in which we
wish for relief when there’s a headwind
(burden), yet quickly forget about it once
we actually receive the tailwind (privilege).
It does not necessarily make someone
a bad person if they are privileged in
one form or another, but cautions us to
watch our words and open our eyes to the
experiences of others.
I can think back to my experience as an
Asian man in the U.S. “How does everyone
in Japan feel about this issue?” (I cannot
speak for all Japanese.) Or “Where do
you really come from?” (OK, I actually
was born in Japan, but I’ve lived in New
Jersey for most of my life.) The ones who
have privilege are the ones who are asking
me these questions, the ones who never
have to feel like an eternal foreigner in the
country they lived in since they were three
years old.
Yet I also must remember my status as
an out-of-state college student (class and
educational privilege) who can move his
four limbs (able-bodied privilege) and is
attracted to women (sexual orientation
privilege). Most people don’t take an issue
with Buddhism, my religious affiliation
(religious privilege) and recognize me as
male (gender privilege).
During discussions of race and ethnicity,
my peers tend to take my concerns more
seriously because I am a minority. When
I’m walking out late at home in New
Jersey, I don’t necessarily receive the same
attention from the police as a dark-skinned
or even white friend because I’m an Asian
man. It doesn’t mean on a whole, I (or any
other person of color) inherently have it
better, but in certain situations, my race
does work to my advantage.
Taking each of these attributes into
account allows me to be more aware
during discussions and perhaps reach a
compromise, instead of sticking to my own
narrow perceptions. That is an exercise
we all should take part in to protect and
nurture our diverse democracy.
2B
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Brian Kuang
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Wednesday, January 10, 2018// The Statement
Critical Questions: Privilege
statement
THE MICHIGAN DAILY | JANUARY 10, 2018
BY ISHI MORI, COLUMNIST
Darby Stipe/Daily
Students put up signs protesting the administration’s consideration of a speech by Richard Spencer during
a sit-in at LSA Dean Martin’s office on November 30, 2017.