I don’t have any idea what it is like to be black in America, but I do know what it is like to be white.
Being white has given me privileges without the need to deserve or merit them, like shopping in a store without having to think about being under surveillance, going for a job interview without wondering if the color of my skin was going to be a strike against me, or worrying about being pulled over by the police in a black neighborhood because I was white.
To be honest, I never think about being white because there is never any reason for me to think about it. Being white is the race card I have never had to play. It has never been the reason I was treated in an unfair way, spoken to or about disrespectfully, or been denied my civil rights.
I realize some whites like me believe they have been discriminated against when applying for a job or to a college, but frankly my reaction has always been that they needed to grow up, that “affirmative action” was and still is our society’s effort to level the justice playing field that will in fact never be level because being white will always trump being black or any other color here in America, at least for the foreseeable future.
In fact, I apologized to my children when they were in high school in case it turned out that they had to pay the price for my generation’s prejudice and discrimination, and all the generations before me.
So when I walk down the street, or go into a convenience store, I never think about the police, I never think about the possibility that being white draws the attention of the police, or that because I am white I need to be careful not to appear suspicious to them.
It is no wonder that I don’t understand the anger, frustration, hurt, and desire to strike back that a lot of black Americans are feeling because of the killing of Michael Brown or Eric Garner or 12 year old Tamir Rice or any number of others white America knows nothing about.
I have never walked in their shoes, and they have never walked in mine, only they are the ones who are getting the short end of the stick.
You see, I don’t know what it feels like to suffer injustice simply because I am white, but they don’t know what it feels like for race not to be a factor in their daily life. They are hardly the same thing.
So I say it’s time for those of us who are white to stop assuming we know how black Americans should think, feel, act, and react to and about all that has been happening between them and the police.
Until we get that being white in this country is a radically different experience from being black, or a member of any minority community, we will do little more than continue to justify our own privilege and blame those who do not share in it for being angry.
linnposts.com 
Thank you. I agree.
Bob, I hope more and more will.
Some great food for thought there. I will use it as a handout @ TS tomorrow
Thank you for your post. I have appreciated your blog. I grew up with Corrine Slaughter and she had sent me a few of your blogs and I decided to get them directly quite awhile back. I also don’t really know what it’s like being black but I try to put myself in their place. I did join some talking circles when we lived in the Seattle area and the circles were made up of all kinds of folks and we had some interesting discussions. I am educated as a social worker and I worked in hospice for 18 years and now volunteer at one in Grand Forks. We have a son who is white and he is suffering some discrimination. He is obese, an alcoholic and is a felon from four DUI’s in Minnesota. He has been in jail a few times and now is in prison in Lino Lakes. He has trouble getting and keeping jobs. He is a college graduate from Washington where we lived for several years. When our two children were 8 and 9, he came to us at 10 days old and we adopted him when he was a year old. He felt the sting of adoption that to him meant that his mother hadn’t wanted him. (I remembered when I thought my mother was mean and I must have been adopted.) He had some disabilities but he overcame much of them. But he always has felt different and that people didn’t really like him – even though he had friends in school who did. He and his wife started a large trucking business that was very successful for a time but then he was overextended. I guess you could call him an overachiever as he seemed to have something to prove to the world. They adopted seven children. He drove a truck rather than own the business and made good money but nothing was ever enough for him. He had a gastric bypass to feel better about himself. He started drinking more than usual and then came jail, treatment, jail, treatment, and jail, prison. The last time he was in jail because he turned himself in for drinking last May. The judge delayed sentencing as his attorney said he wouldn’t benefit from prison but needed treatment for dual diagnosis (alcoholism, depression, and anxiety. The prosecutor said he had enough chances. The judge said if they could find a place for him to get treatment and the funding, he would consider it. In September, Eric found funding and his attorney found a treatment facility for dual diagnosis. The judge heard the attorney and heard Eric talk about himself and treatment along with his goals. He lauded him for what he has accomplished and acknowledged that Eric has us for support. But then the judge decided to ignore it all and sentenced him to prison until March, 2016. After that, he will have parole and probation until 2022 – plus felon after his name. What’s to happen to him when that time comes? My husband was just diagnosed with liver cancer. He has a genetic blood disorder that we knew could leave to cancer. He has many people praying for him, wishing him well, visiting, sending him cards and emailing. Our family fusses over him and they frequently call. Our son Eric, in many ways has become invisible. People who care about us seem to be disgusted with him. I have asked people to please send him cards, letters and/or pictures, as he said getting mail helps him to know there is a world outside of his prison. And yet, Eric likely has a genetic disease as well – alcoholism. (His birth mother has always refused to see him or me or contact us in any way.) Last year at a Christmas Eve service, I listened to the minister pray for various people, the old, the sick, the grieving. A few days later, I wrote and thanked him for the service and asked that he consider praying for those locked up in jails and prisons as they also needed someone to care about them, too. I didn’t receive an answer so I don’t know if I made a difference. I do know the church graciously opens their facilities to AA groups. Thank you for your blog. I wish people who were more conservative and so sure of their beliefs would also read them. Sincerely, Treasure Omdahl2015 10th St. SEEast Grand Forks MN 56721
Date: Thu, 4 Dec 2014 23:13:15 +0000 To: taomdahl@msn.com
Amazing. This is the best and most gracious explanation of privilege I’ve read in a minute. Thanks Jan.