Ashley's Non-Offensive Guide To White Privilege

I carry pepper spray on my keychain, park under lights, and try not to look at my phone when I'm walking through a parking lot alone because, when I was younger, my parents taught me what I need do to protect myself from predators.

When I walk into a room and people look at me, I worry something's on my face, think something must be awry with my wardrobe, or wonder if I've accidentally entered a private party that I was definitely not invited to.

If I see those blue and red lights flash behind me, I wince because I really don't want a speeding ticket.

Growing up, my teachers looked like me. I had a variety of dolls to choose from that had the same color skin as me. When I was a teenager, I got pulled over three times in my first six months of driving and had to go to court where my dad (not a lawyer) argued on my behalf and the judge let me off with no real penalty. When I was attacked by a boyfriend in college, all I wanted was for the cops to show up so I could feel safe again. Most recently, when I was discharged from the labor and delivery emergency department at 11:30 pm and had to walk (waddle) alone to my car in a parking garage, I was disappointed when I couldn't find an officer to walk with me.

This is white privilege. 

My parents never had to teach me how to protect myself (or my life) from racist or biased people.

If people stare at me, I never wonder if it's because they're afraid of me.

I never had to learn how to behave during a routine traffic stop so that I wouldn't raise suspicion of something entirely unrelated to my going 10 mph over the speed limit.

I never had teachers who treated me differently because they didn't understand my culture. I never sat disappointed or confused as to why I don't see more toys or celebrities who look like me. It never occurred to me to get a lawyer for court because I was never scared I'd be sent to jail. I have never hesitated to call the police when I'm in danger because I've never had to worry it would put me in an even more dangerous situation.

I have never had to fight for the right to simply exist. Even more, I've never had to pick up that fight from where my parents left off, who picked up from where their own parents left off, who picked up from where their parents left off...

If something doesn't go my way, I don't get a job, or I am treated rudely by a stranger, I will never have to wonder if the color of my skin is in any way related.

Understanding, accepting, and owning your white privilege is okay. In fact, it's better than denying it's there. In acknowledging it, you are acknowledging that there is a problem that needs to be addressed. Denying it is essentially closing your eyes, plugging your ears, and singing "la la la" to pretend it's not real.

It is real. And, no one should have to fight for the privilege of being able to fade into a crowd.