events occurred that disrupted my blindness to White privilege. The first event, during my doctoral program, planted an important seed for the second event, a defining moment that occurred some years later. Allow me to describe them:
A seed planted: A friend, who identifies as an African-American female and who worked with me in Upward Bound, called me one night and told me about a recent experience she had had at a fast-food restaurant. My friend was in the front of the line, ready to order her food. “I am standing right there ready to order and the employee, a White woman, looked right past me and asked this person who was right behind me and who just happened to be White, ‘May I help you?’ …. She just ignored me—like I wasn’t even there.” My friend was hurt and angry, and clearly believed the act was discriminatory and oppressive.
Although I heard the anger and hurt in my friend’s voice, I remember having a difficult time accepting her explanation of the event. I remembered thinking (but not saying), “I’m sure you’re mistaken. People aren’t that rude. I’ll bet the employee just thought you were still deciding on your order and wanted to keep the line moving.”
Defining moment:
After completing my doctorate and spending a year in the Midwest as a staff psychologist at a university counseling center, I received a faculty appointment at Colorado State University. There I developed a friendship with a colleague who identifies as a Black female. My colleague and I would have what I call “difficult dialogues.” She wanted me to hear her stories and the stories of others who are (un)seen and treated differently because of their skin color. I wanted to deflect the issues of oppression and discrimination by claiming that White people are treated poorly as well. I would argue for what I called then reverse discrimination.
One day while at lunch at a restaurant, we decided to check into the possibility of using that restaurant as a meeting place for future conversations that would include our colleagues. We started to look for an employee of the establishment. The following few seconds disrupted how I understood oppression as an intellectual concept and made it, in my eyes, a reality. A few feet in front of me, my colleague approached the receptionist, a White woman, to inquire about the cost and availability of the facility. The receptionist craned her neck to look around my colleague, as if she wasn’t there, and then asked me, “How can I help you?” As this scene played out before me, so did a flashback of the conversation with my friend, some 10 years earlier, who told me about her experience of being invisible at the fast-food restaurant. For various reasons, my psychological defenses were down enough to see how my white skin made me visible and how my colleague’s black skin made her invisible. This was really a starting point for my awareness about my White privilege and a person of color’s oppression.
Peggy McIntosh, a research scientist at the Wellesley Centers for Women and a pioneer in the field, coined the term “White privilege” (1990) when she realized that as a White person she had access, opportunities, and advantages that others did not. She described White privilege as that “invisible package of unearned assets” which is like a “weightless knapsack of special provisions, maps, passports, codebooks, visas, clothes, tools, and blank checks” that those of us who have white skin “can count on cashing in each day” and to which we “remain oblivious” (p. 31).
Each one of us has our own socialization experience. Sharon’s blindness to White privilege and other privilege statuses originated in her socialization process. As Harro (2013) suggests, socialization within a system of oppression is “pervasive … consistent … circular … self-perpetuating … and invisible” (p. 45). During the socialization process, Minnich states that White people are taught to see their lives “as morally neutral, normative, and average, and also ideal” (cited in McIntosh, 2000, p. 32). Although White people might not have heard their family of origin make overt derogatory remarks about people whose lives are different from theirs, the subtext might have been one of White superiority or “fear of ‘the other’” (Zetzer, 2018, p. 9).
White privilege is just one point of privilege. Other points include gender privilege, able-bodied privilege, economic privilege, Christian privilege, and heterosexual privilege. Because we all have multiple identities, we may experience privilege in some areas (where we are part of a dominant group) while we experience discrimination or oppression in others (Lo, 2011). We can experience a type of “mental whiplash, alternating … between disadvantaged and privileged group memberships” (Liddle, 2011, p. 251). We might even have both experiences at the same time in the same place.
Food for Thought: Your Own Invisible Knapsack of Privilege
Sometimes it is uncomfortable to think of ourselves as having advantages in life or as living with unearned assets that provide us opportunities that others do not have. We’d like to give you an opportunity to explore what might be in your own “knapsack of privilege” by assessing how your experience matches the statements below. The more you respond in the affirmative, the more likely you are to have one or more points of privilege (gender privilege, able-bodied privilege, economic privilege, heterosexual privilege, religious privilege, White privilege, etc.).
In meetings or gatherings, my ideas or comments are recognized.
I can expect to earn my pay based on the work I do—equivalent to what my colleagues earn.
I can go out to a place of business, a restaurant, or an event and not worry about accessibility.
I can go to restaurant or movie and not need someone to read the menu or list of showings.
I can plan regular trips to the grocery store without concerns of how I will pay the bill.
I can travel, purchase items, go out for entertainment (i.e., have financial resources) without concern about how I will purchase the necessities for daily living.
I can speak in public and not have someone ask me where I am from.
I can hold my partner’s hand in social contexts without concern.
I can go to public places and not have people question my gender.
I can attend the church or place of worship I desire.
I can speak for myself as an individual and not feel like I am representing a group of people with my same skin color (or gender, religion, etc.).
I can find plenty of literature that highlights my heritage.
Without some prompting, we might remain oblivious to our invisible knapsack of privilege. This state of unawareness may be an outcome of learning. McIntosh states it this way: “As a White person, I realized I had been taught about racism as something that puts others at a disadvantage, but had been taught not to see one of its corollary aspects, white privilege, which puts me at an advantage” (p. 31). Dr. McIntosh is not alone in this experience. In our personal contexts, we may have not learned to notice those ways we have “advantages,” and may just come to see them as the expected. When we don’t see our own points of privilege, we will likely find it difficult to see discrimination against others and the ways we are participating in systems of oppression (Loomis, 2011; Zetzer, 2018).
The examination of personal points of privilege, oppression, and discrimination relates to the larger issue of social justice—how we implement personal virtues (e.g., respect, humility, compassion, fairness) and values on a broader scale. Being able to see our privilege—and how we have unknowingly and maybe knowingly contributed to systems of discrimination and oppression—can
