Have you ever caught yourself playing a round of The Suffering Olympics with your friends or family? It’s a passive-aggressive competition to see who’s more deserved to feel tired, or who’s the busiest, and who deserves a vacation and/or pity more.
I hate this game with a fury. I always feel like I’ve been tricked somehow into playing it, like my way of life and minimal hardships are under attack. I’m pleased to say that with substantial effort, I’ve been able to resist the engagement of this stupid game in the past few years, and usually just make pitying or conciliatory noises to the person who initiated this nonsense until they stop talking. The person who chooses to play the game has already shown they are incapable of compassion, so there’s not a lot to talk about besides the weather.
I only bring up this pain-signalling simply because I’ve found it to be prevalent in the mouths of those who seek to deny the existence of their own privilege. Or those who endeavor to make it seem like they don’t have as much going for them as everyone else thinks.
In the recent months of protesting (BLACK LIVES MATTER, by the way), self-education on privilege has been taking place more than ever. Most or all of the people I know (including myself) have been presented with uncomfortable facts, and have to learn how to cope with ourselves for not being aware or ignoring the true reality of life for Black Americans.
I have struggled with finding anything to say regarding the issue on social media. On one hand, I want to comfort my Black friends by offering support and acknowledgement of their daily suffering. But on the other, how do I show that I am sincere, and not simply saying these things because it’s “trendy”?
I know that every new video that emerges of Black bodies being terrorized by police is a new trauma for the Black community to bear. I know that I feel intense rage and sorrow that “law enforcement” keeps getting away with killing Black people.
I don’t want be content with justice being served in the next life, which is all I can say when justice fails. Justice should be served TODAY. I know that the pain is enough that I want to shy away from it, and it’s difficult to keep forcing myself to continue. But this is the reality all Black people face every day, and I cannot call myself a compassionate human being if I choose ignorance.
This is an uncomfortable thing for me to write about, but I think it’s for that reason that I must continue, and hope that I’m on the right track. I’ve been mulling this over all week, unsure of whether to post anything at all, but feeling the need to sit with the embarrassment of my own privilege – which is more like the embarrassment of my failure to do anything more tangible to serve the movement.
I am always questioning myself and my intentions. That being said, my voice is not necessarily the one that needs to be elevated at the moment, but I cannot say nothing.
I’ve noticed that for many people, the phrase “white privilege” is triggering. They feel that everyone assumes their lives are easy because of the color of their skin. In fact, I almost feel it should be called non-Black privilege, because I’m not white, but still benefit from not being black in the United States of America.
Altering the statement shifts the focus to being less about white people and more about Black people, and the way they are systematically profiled and incarcerated at a higher rate than other demographics. This is where the focus should remain until these systemic issues are resolved.
(**I am by no means an authority on what phrases should or shouldn’t be used. This is my effort to bring some clarity as to what “white privilege” means, and how it is not a personal attack**)
Essentially, when someone tells you that you have privilege, it’s almost never about you. It’s about how another group of people (in this case, Black Americans) don’t enjoy the same peace of mind, and have to go through their daily lives with a sense of caution and stress that the rest of us don’t have to deal with.
This is my guess as to why the phrase “white privilege” is met with hostility – a sub-category of The Suffering Olympics. It gets interpreted as an accusation. But it’s not an accusation – it is a sorely needed wake-up call that a certain group (Black people) in your community is under intentional and systemic hardship by a government who should be protecting them as citizens.
But when it comes down to it, your/my/our interpretation doesn’t matter. What matters is that a group of people have come to tell you of the gross injustice done to them on a daily basis, the lack of closure from these events, and the overwhelming trauma they have endured. They have been dismissed, gas-lighted, and characterized as sub-human by a society that enjoys pretending that nothing is wrong.
What does it say of you, that you could tell them they’re wrong for these feelings? That you don’t believe them? That you don’t “agree with the movement?”
Black Americans have been saying these things for years and have been ignored. I believe that the acknowledgement of this dismissal is key to begin the healing and cleansing of society’s ignorance to these atrocities. If you’re a person who’s been wronged by another person in your life, which we all fucking are, you’d agree.
Acknowledge the pain. Sit with the discomfort. Don’t look away from the struggle. You’d want the same support for yourself if you were subjected to such heinous treatment by the society you live in.
Beware of your own silence, of giving into the temptation of comfortable ignorance. Beware of the complacence that you can stay at home on your couch and watch the public executions of your fellow man and say, “Well, it’s not affecting me,” so you can turn a blind eye until someone comes for you and your loved ones.
Will you be able to look back on your actions and stand by them? In the eyes of the universe, will you be able to say that you brought good into the world? Or that you simply existed, blocking out the cries of your fellow man because you could carry on, unaffected?
Black lives matter.
Below is a list of resources to get involved, donate, or read to broaden your knowledge of race relations in the United States.
Black Lives Matter:
https://blacklivesmatter.com/
Reading:
If you don’t like to read, The 13th is outside of Netflix’s paywall: