A Facebook page called “The Good, the Chad, & the Ugly” shared this post today. When I saw it I felt compelled to share it with an added comment, to wit:
Another day. Another lesson about white privilege. Will I ever complete this course? #ComplexionfortheProtection
I then felt compelled to share some other thoughts.
When my oldest daughter was in kindergarten, her class would do a little chant/song at the end of the day to identify what they had learned.
The teacher would ask: “What did you learn at school today?”
The children would reply (in unison): “Sharing, counting, coloring,” or whatever they had learned that day.”
The children were eager to learn, eager to share what they had learned, and eager to return the next day to learn some more.
I, too, love to learn. I especially love the fact that I can receive all sorts of lessons and learn how to do all sorts of things from cooking to carpentry, from weaving to woodworking, and from sewing to sanding, all while enjoying the comfort of my own home.
There are some lessons, however, that I no longer need to learn. White privilege is one of them.
Believe me, I know all I need to know about white privilege. I can recognize it in all of its forms. I can even recognize it when it masquerades as something else. I can recognize it even when it does not recognize itself.