69. Molly Nilsson - “Let’s Talk About Privileges”

This jam is about as on the nose as one can get. However, when talking about a subject like white privilege, or any privilege for that matter, one often needs to be explicit. Otherwise the importance and pervasive nature of the topic runs the risk of being obscured, distanced, or excused away. After all, white privilege is a conservative’s worst nightmare. It’s the sort of truth-saying that so often gets dismissed as political diatribe or the whining of social justice snowflakes – or even worse “reverse racism” (as if such a thing is even possible and any other race could ever wield more or even the same amount of power, influence, capital, and leverage as white people), but I digress…

Somehow Nilsson manages to expose the basic tenets of privilege in a catchy and meaningful fashion. I imagine a world in the future where songs like this are featured on children’s shows right alongside something as commonplace as the alphabet. I can see it now – the Muppets of Sesame Street jamming out to this song, explaining to the next generation of humanity the concept of privilege, without any political baggage, but rather with the sort of straightforward acceptance that it deserves as an objective aspect of our lived reality.

Anyway, that being said, I don’t usually do this, but about a year ago for one of my classes we were tasked with writing a cultural autobiography. As part of the assignment we had to share a portion of what we wrote. I thought what I wrote turned out pretty good and several of my classmates found it meaningful, so I figured I would share it here, especially since my cultural autobiography is essentially synonymous with privilege. So here it is:

My life is the result of overwhelming privilege. I was born into this world a white and able-bodied male through no effort of my own, and then raised within a stable, loving, middle class family – once again through no effort of my own. I grew up in a safe neighborhood where many of the kids looked the same as me and possessed a shared experience. We were carefree for the most part. All of us were given the opportunity to live a true childhood full of innocence and joy. Although my family was far from wealthy we were never in need. Growing up I never knew what it was like to be missing the necessities of life. In fact, I had the privilege of conflating wants with needs. I needed (wanted) a gaming console but never got one. I needed (wanted) to go on the computer during “Computer Free Sundays” but was told to go outside instead. Sundays were important to my family. I was born into a Christian household and raised to believe in the intrinsic goodness and rightness of my beliefs as well as my god-given place within the universe. I took the existence of god for granted, and not just any god, but my god. Most people I knew believed in him (god was a boy like me – oh, and he was also white), and even if they didn’t, then they at least knew who he was. As I grew older I found myself attracted to women, yet another development that although sometimes in conflict with my family’s Christian faith was never considered dangerous or irredeemable, and more importantly, was never in conflict with the acceptable norms of the dominant society. I have never struggled with my weight, nor have I ever struggled in school. I even have a perverse sort of love for the challenge presented by standardized tests. I can dress in second hand clothes and embrace my stylistic mantra of being ‘elegantly disheveled’ without being unduly looked down upon. I can see others like me everywhere I go – in stores, restaurants, and job interviews. I see my reflection constantly within the media that surrounds me. I am young and healthy. I am swaddled within the warm embrace of the dominant culture. I possess the ability to see myself as an individual. I do not speak for my race, nor am I defined by it. I am a tabula rasa holding my own pen. I am the norm. I am unique. I can exist without any qualifier to who I am. I can wear and shed my race at will. I am white, and my life is the result of overwhelming privilege.