Thursday, October 31, 2013

What To Do With Your Privilege Once You Realize You Have It



You have privilege.*  I hate to break it to you, but it’s true.  I hear you – you’re saying to me, “but Jennie, I’m a lesbian transwoman of color.”  Yes, and I don’t want to discount any of that… but are you able-bodied?  Are you between the ages of 18-60?  Are you Christian?  If you answered yes to any of those, you still have privilege.  Glad we settled that.

Here’s how it works:

Basically, there are a lot of different dimensions by which privilege can be measured.**  What I learned in graduate school is that there are seven:

Sex – male vs. female
Race – white vs. any racial minority
Age – prime of adulthood vs. children or elderly people
Religion – Protestant vs. any other religion (or lack of religion)
Sexual Orientation – straight vs. gay or bisexual
Ability Status – able-bodied vs. disabled
Socioeconomic Status – middle-class (or higher) vs. those who live in poverty

Although as I’ve grown and learned and increased my awareness, I’ve found that there are so many more kinds of privilege than that.  Here are a few, though this list is far from exhaustive:

Gender – cisgender vs. transgender or non-binary gendered  (If these terms are confusing, please see my article on transgender 101)
Relationship Orientation – “traditional” vs. polyamorous or kinky
Body Type – thin or fit vs. overweight or curvy
Legal Status – United States Citizen vs. those who are not
Language Ability – English-speaking people vs. those who are not fluent in English
Accent – standard American accent vs. Southern or other regional accents

And the list goes on.

*It’s possible to be in the non-privileged category of every dimension on this list, but that doesn’t mean you lack privilege.  For example, if you are in a wheelchair but have functional hearing, you have ability privilege when it comes to ability to hear over someone who is deaf.  Conversely, someone who is deaf but able-bodied in other ways has privilege by merit of their ability to ambulate unassisted.
**Please note that the types of privilege noted in this article refer to those statuses that are privileged in most parts of the United States.  Other cultures, countries, or societies may have other types of privilege, but as I have limited to no experience with those places and customs, I am unable to speak to the experiences of people who live there.

In each of these categories, there is a dominant or privileged group of people (the first one listed) and a minority group, which is to say that the group is subjugated, frequently perceived as inferior, or attributed less credibility, rather than having anything to do with the percentage of the population in each group.  This means that if I am an able-bodied 29-year-old straight white Jewish female from an upper-middle class family (you know, for example), I am in the dominant groups when it comes to ability status, age, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic status, but I am in the non-privileged group when it comes to sex and religion.

Ok.  That’s what it means to be in a privileged or non-privileged group.  What are the implications of this?  I’m going to link you to two other places that describe this much better than I could.  The first is a wonderful article recently written by Matt Maggiacomo called “In Defense of Allies,” in which he describes how by being male, white, and heterosexual, he is privileged, as well as what he opts to do with that privilege.  I think this speaks to the experience of privilege beautifully because it’s a great example of a person not only acknowledging but also taking ownership of their privilege which, as I’ll discuss later in this article, can be a really hard thing to do.

The other article that I’m going to link to is a classic list by Peggy McIntosh called “Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack.”  The idea is basically that those of us who are white walk around all the time not thinking about race, but people of color frequently think about how their ethnic background – pardon the terrible wordplay – colors their experiences.  That’s what makes it invisible: people with privilege usually don’t even notice that they lack these things.

Another thing worth mentioning before moving onto the premise posed in the title of this article is intersectionality.  What that means is that you can be in multiple non-privileged groups, and that may affect your ability to feel included in any of those groups.  For example, if you’re a lesbian and you’re in a wheelchair, you might feel discriminated against for your disability when around other gay people and for being gay when you’re around other disabled people.  If you’re black and Jewish, you might feel discriminated against because of your skin color when at synagogue and also because of your religion when you’re around other people of color.  And to add to it, many people fit into more than two minority categories. 

Intersectionality can lead to people within minorities still having a lot of privilege compared to other people within that minority.  I was surprised when I started spending a lot of time around gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered folks to hear people talk about young, slim, white gay men having a lot of privilege.  Then when I expanded my understanding of the acronym and started spending a lot of time around that community as well as queer-identified, asexual, intersex, poly, and kinky folks, I was even more surprised to hear people talking about how privileged white transmen are.  I wanted to say, “but being transgender is still really hard!”  And it absolutely is.  But what these categories have that other LGBTQQIAPK folks lack is a single level of minority status and limited intersectionality.

Ok, now that you have a primer about privilege and intersectionality, go back to those lists of minority categories at the beginning – the traditional list as well as the items I added – and think about the categories where you’re in the privileged group as well as those where you’re in the non-privileged group.  Most people have some characteristics in each of these categories.  Looking at these things, how are you feeling?

If you’re like most people, you probably feel a twinge of guilt.  You might even feel defensive, thinking to yourself, “I don’t have that much privilege!” or “This stuff is blown out of proportion – we’re all just people!”  Those responses are really, really common, and they also serve a purpose.  That purpose is protecting our fragile sense of justice in the world.  It’s just plain hard to look at ourselves and state, “A big part of what I have achieved and how I am perceived in life is due to factors beyond my control.”  We all like to believe that our accomplishments are due exclusively to our efforts, but the simple fact of the matter is that many people’s first impressions of us have to do with these criteria over which we have no power.

So what can you do with that feeling of guilt and, more to the point, the ways in which you possess privilege?  I have come up with four categories of how people often react to being confronted with their privilege:

1. Ignore it.

This is what most of the world does, and I’m going to say, probably controversially, that it doesn’t make you a bad person if it’s what you choose.  Lots of people want to go about their lives and not think about their privilege.  They might encounter examples of this – for example, information about women receiving less pay for equal work or unsettling statistics about violence against transpeople.  And what most of the world does is see this information, think “boy, that’s terrible,” and then go back to what they’re doing. 

The problem with this: Being ignorant (which has the same root as the word “ignore”) means you’re going to offend people.  If you choose this option, you’re going to engage in microaggressions and people are going to hear what you say, and think “boy, what a privileged and unaware white/straight/young/cisgender/etc person.”  While it doesn’t make you a bad person to ignore your privilege, it does make you a bit irresponsible, so choose this path carefully.

2. Deny it.

This can take a few different faces.  It can look like “nah, that privilege stuff is all feminist/liberal/gay agenda/etc mumbo jumbo!  People make too big a deal out of this stuff.”  But it can also look like “I’m not actually straight – I’m heteroflexible!” or “I’m not actually white – I’m Jewish, which is a totally different ethnicity!”  (I have been historically guilty of saying both of these things.)

The problem with this: Regardless of whether it’s dismissive like the first example or well-intended like the second example, it negates the lived experiences of people who legitimately lack your privilege.  I was recently confronted with this idea while claiming to be heteroflexible, and finally understood something I hadn’t really gotten before – it is not only my right, but also my responsibility to acknowledge that I am heterosexual.  When I acknowledge this, it creates a context for people who are LGBTQQIA to exist as a minority group (or set of minority groups) and helps legitimize their experience of lacking the privilege that I have.  Denying that I have that privilege is NOT helpful to those who genuinely lack it.

3. Accept it.

Acknowledge the privilege you have (basically the opposite of #2) and integrate that into your idea of yourself.  If you’re a middle-eastern man engaging in a conversation with an authority figure of some sort, realize that not only are you being perceived as middle-eastern, but also as a man, which puts you in a more privileged position than a middle-eastern woman having the same conversation.  You don’t have to go to rallies or advocate for non-privileged groups, but you at least integrate your privileged categories into your overall sense of self.

The problem with this: It’s a bit unsettling.  If you have a strong sense of justice or fairness, it’s going to be pretty hard to stop here.  Once you’re aware that you have privilege and you start looking at that in the mirror, you’ll probably either run to categories 1 or 2 or you’ll be urged to category 4.

4. Be an advocate.

Use your privilege for good.  Are you a white person who is informed about the hardships of being a person of color?  Or a straight person who is aware of the difficulties faced by LGBT people?  Spend time with those groups.  Educate yourself.  Let people tell their stories.  Read books by authors in these minority categories.  When someone asks you to talk about this stuff, own your privilege and explain that your perspective is skewed or biased because of your dominant category status, and point them to a person who has lived experiences to speak to or a book written by a person in the non-privileged category.  Wield your privilege to help the voices of those who lack it be heard.

The problem with this: It’s both exhausting and humbling.  Admitting you don’t have all the answers about something you yourself haven’t experienced can be an unpleasant thing to do.  Plus, being a true ally and speaking up when someone says ignorant things can be difficult.  It’s also hard to be an ally and an advocate without being constantly angry, or at least perceived as such.  And sometimes, you have to make a hard call about whether to pick your battles or speak up in the name of upholding equality in complicated situations, like with authority figures or clients/customers or parents of your significant other. 

I’m wondering – for those who have experienced being confronted with their privilege, are there any other ways you’ve chosen to respond to it?  Leave me a comment and let me know!

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Is Candy Crush Your Priority?


Ok, I want you to do something.  Grab a piece of scrap paper and write down your 3-5 top priorities in your life.  These can be whatever you want them to be - family, career, your relationship, friendships, education, relaxation, health, leisure, a favorite hobby, a particular aspiration... whatever.  Got it?  Ok, good.

Priorities are reflective of our values, and whatever you wrote down is probably directly related to what you feel is important in your life.  This is different for everyone, which is good, because it makes everyone different.  How boring would it be to live in a homogenous world?

Priorities are also something I've been thinking a lot lately.  There's a quote I've seen floating around that says, "If you really want to do something, you'll find a way.  If you don't, you'll find an excuse. ...and I think it's quite true.


Now think about all the things you've been meaning to do, but don't have the time or money for.  This came up in a recent therapy session, where a client told me he wanted to get in shape but didn't have the time or money to go to the gym.  This about 15 minutes after he bemoaned that "this really stupid game" was sucking up all his time and money.

This client is not the only person to recently tell me that Candy Crush is eating up large chunks of his life.  In fact, I can understand where all these people are coming from, because I, too, find myself playing this game much more frequently than I'd like.  For those of you who don't know, Candy Crush is an addictive game for Facebook and smart phones, in which you try to match 3 candies of a the same color in a row so they explode and you can work towards a goal, which differs based on the level.  If you run out of moves, it offers you the opportunity to buy more moves, or get a special bonus candy that will help you... for $1.99.  When you lose 5 times, the game tells you that you need to wait 30 minutes for the next life to become available... or you can spend just 99 cents and play again RIGHT NOW.  These fees, called "microfees" are common in the online gaming industry, and they feed right into the addiction people have to this particular game.

Anyway, in this particular case, I asked the client if his health was a priority.  "Yes, definitely," he said, "one of my top priorities."

"I'd like to respectfully disagree.  Would you like to know what I think your top priority is right now?"

(Obviously, you can see where this is going.)

"Candy Crush is your top priority right now."

I tell this story to make a point.  You may think the best gauge of your priorities is what your values are, but the ACTUAL best gauge of your priorities is how you spend your time.

Keeping that in mind, here's your bonus challenge.  Grab a small notebook you can fit in your purse or pocket, and write each of the priorities from the list at the top of its own page.  Then on another page, write a header like "Stuff I Do But Don't Know Why" or "Mind-Numbing Time Wasters" or - if Candy Crush is the biggest thing in that category for you - just call the page "Candy Crush."  Now, for one week, track the amount of time spent on each of those things and make a note on the corresponding page.  Are your priorities what you want them to be?

 If not, think about shifting your actual priorities so that they match your desired priorities.



(Disclaimer: Candy Crush can absolutely be aligned with your priorities are to engage in leisure activities, decompress after a long day, etc.  The main point I'm trying to make is that if your desired priorities and the way you spend your time don't line up, it's worth considering how to fix that.)

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Mind the Gap




“You’re in the gap,” observed my supervisor, calmly commenting on the difficulties I had expressed about being in a period of transition.

For those of you who don’t know, I’m in the process of relocating from the Boston area to my hometown in Southern California.  This is a huge change for me.  Many of my private practice clients will continue to see me for regular therapy sessions via online counseling (a topic for a separate article), but most of my clinic clients are not in a financial position to pay me out of pocket, and insurance doesn’t cover online therapy.  What this means is that recently, I had to look into the eyes of 31 people who I care very, very much about and tell them that I am no longer able to be part of their support system.

All this, on top of the normal stuff that comes with moving across the country – a grueling 45 hour drive in 4 days, figuring out the logistics of packing up my belongings, apartment searching, job searching, hugging all my Boston friends goodbye, and just generally wondering what life has in store.  And oh yeah, applying for my counseling license in California, since there’s no interstate reciprocity.

And on top of all that logistical stuff, there’s an emotional toll.  It’s the same emotional toll that comes from being in any period of transition, when you know something major is about to change in your life, but you can’t be there quite yet.  In a lot of ways, it’s like what most people experience when they’re planning a wedding, or having a baby, or buying a house, or preparing for their elderly parent to move in with them, or getting ready to go away to college.  Any of these things is a huge change that happens in a way that you can plan (as opposed to illness, car accidents, winning the lottery – all huge life changes that happen suddenly and spontaneously), which means that there’s a period of anticipation.

That anticipation – it’s exciting, but it’s also frustrating.  It’s like having a foot in each world, and not really being able to put all your weight in either.  You don’t want to put down roots in the old life because that’s about to change.  And you’re not really in a position to make concrete plans for the life to come, because there are so many unknown factors.

Or, in other words, it’s about being in the gap.  Allow me to explain.

My supervisor, who I also view as a mentor, is knowledgeable about Buddhist philosophy.  He told me that in Buddhism, there are four parts to a breath:

  1. Inhale
  2. Hold the breath
  3. Exhale
  4. Gap
The gap is that space between breaths where nothing much is really going on.  You’ve finished the last breath and you haven’t quite started the next one, so for a moment, you’re not breathing.  But it’s not like you panic every time you finish exhaling – you know the next breath will come.  I think it’s a beautiful metaphor for periods of transition.

So that’s how I’m trying to think about it.  Everything feels like chaos right now while I get ready to move.  But it’s not chaos, not really.  It’s just the gap.  And soon, the next breath will come.