My Privileged White Life
In part, this is the story of white great-grandfather who emigrated to North America from Norway to farm. His son, my grandfather, told me about a hard choice the family patriarch made: stop speaking Norwegian, not teach it or the culture to his children, so that they and his children would fully assimilate into Canadian culture. His thinking: with a new surname, no accent in our speech, we have the benefit of having white skin. We could blend in in a generation and avoid the persecution and difficulties he experienced, unlike his Indigenous neighbours, or other settlers who were Black or People of Colour. He took strategic advantage of our white skin. And he was right, we did blend in.
In part, this is the story of another white great-grandfather who made a similar move to blend in. To manage the hierarchy of superiority within white ethnic groups, this great-grandfather took the “O” out of his Irish surname, to hide the inferior Irish. (I also imagine the accent disappearing at some point.) His only child was a daughter (my grandmother), who took her husband’s name and the explicit Irish lineage is completely hidden.
So this is the beginning of white privilege in my family system: the inferior peoples subject to persecution (broken-English Norwegians and the lowly Irish) were able to hide in plain sight with a name change, time to lose an accent, and their white skin.
“This is the beginning of white privilege in my family system: those subject to persecution were able to hide in plain sight with a name change, time to lose an accent, and their white skin. ”
And the benefits of our white skin have been significant and unacknowledged. We moved ourselves from “white skin inferior” to “white skin superior,” and continue to live from a stance of both privilege and superiority, particularly relative to Indigenous people, Black people and People of Colour.
How privilege shows up in my white family system:
I don’t have to have “the police” talk with my 19-year old son. He does not have to be afraid of police.
I don’t have to worry about my daughter’s safety when she moves to a new city to go to school. White girls and women do not disappear as frequently as Indigenous girls and women.
I don’t have family members who have been killed by police, or jailed because of their skin colour.
I don’t have many community members who have taken their own lives.
When I need an ambulance, no assumptions are made that I excessively use alcohol or drugs.
People do not reach out and touch my hair.
People do not assume that I am “the help” at a party.
I do not feel invisible at work; I am listened to, not dismissed. And I get job interviews.
My family, going back generations, has bought and sold land that is the traditional territory of many Indigenous people. We have claimed land as our own, oblivious to the First Peoples.
We benefit from the governments and rules we have put in place for ourselves. White people are far better served by health care systems, education systems, police and enforcement systems, economic systems, etc.
This is my privileged white life. I don’t have much to worry about because the system serves me well.
How racism shows up in my family system:
A grandmother told my brother, when we were small, not to put a coin in his mouth because it might have been in a Chinaman’s pocket. (I was 8ish and said nothing.)
A grandmother told a friend and I once that one day we will all be yellow (Chinese are numerous and, by implication, an invasive species). (I was 20 and told her that was not a nice thing to say.)
We used to call Canadian Tire “Ukranian Wheel”.
We made no contact with the local Indigenous people at the lake where we’ve spent fifty years of summers; there is a strict separation. (I’ve stopped participating.)
A family member performed their “old black lady” routine for laughs. ( I was 48 and numb with a root canal. I didn’t laugh, but didn’t say anything in the moment and I should have. My kids and I talked about the racism in this afterwards.)
This is my my deeply embedded racist conditioning. And the whiteness in my does not want to see it, so this is work that will never end. Racism is insidious and pervasive because seeing it means upsetting the power and status of whiteness.
“This is my deeply embedded racist conditioning. And the whiteness in me does not want to see it, so this is work that will never end. ”
How racism shows up in me:
When I participate in Indigenous ceremonies hosted by non-Indigenous people.
When I drive through an Indian Reservation I feel scared. There is no basis for this other than racist thoughts that I am conditioned to tell myself.
When I listen to people describe their experiences with racism, a thought always runs through my head: it can’t be that bad.
When I use the power and status I have to maintain my power and status, which means to maintain the status quo. Because maintaining the status quo keeps power out of the hands of Indigenous people, Black people and People of Colour.
When I assume young Black people are trouble-makers.
When I swoop in to solve the problems of People of Colour.
When I think I am not racist, I am. It is insidiously conditioned in me.
When I don’t want to do the emotional labour to handle hearing that my actions have caused harm.
This is my racist life. I am learning to be vigilant, to see what I need to see in myself, and us, not what I want to see.
I was born into this white skin of mine and I enjoy the privileges that come with whiteness. I did nothing to deserve this and yet I have this. It is time to share my privilege.
How do you notice whiteness in you?
