Discovering Privilege - In Four Part Technicolor

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It's come to my attention that I am privileged. It’s a realization I've come to recently despite my best efforts at ignoring the obvious.

Coming to terms with my own privilege is something that I hadn't thought much about, let alone seen the need for. Until recently, that is. Now, when I look back at my family's history, it’s plain as day.

The thing about privilege is that those who have it, often don't even realize they have it, and usually that privilege had nothing to with anything that person has done.

Let me outline my privilege for you in four parts.

Part 1:

My grandparents on my Mom's side were farmers and children of first generation Canadians. They got married at a time and in a culture that placed a high value on religious affiliation. Since they were of different religious backgrounds (both Mennonite, but different churches), they were each summarily dismissed and excommunicated from their respective churches for daring to get married. Their response was basically, “F*** you, we know what we want, and we're doing it, so you can take your bullshit rules and shove 'em.”

Part 2:

Similar story on my Dad's side as far as marriage goes. His parents ended up eloping in an attempt to circumvent the same kind of bullshit.

My grandpa was a “horse whisperer” of sorts and a railway man for a good portion of his life. He was also a brilliant woodworker in his later years. The man could build almost anything from whatever happened to be lying around and knew how to get whatever else was needed as well.

My grandparents showed us all what it was like to work hard in order to make a better life, and how to make a decision and stick with it, regardless of what the prevailing “wisdom” might say - right up until the day they died.

Part 3:

My Dad was a guy who showed us every single day what it meant to be there for his family. He was a do-it-yourselfer and he was extremely capable at many things. From him I learned how to build stuff, how to treat people with respect, and basically how to just show up. Also, I learned that it was possible to never miss a day of work. He showed us that even when he was sick, he still didn't let it stop him from doing what he'd planned to do. And the fact that I barely even remember him being sick doesn't mean he never was. He showed us how to never stop running for his family - something I'm sure he learned from his dad. He also taught me how to stand up for myself in school. Best advice ever: “Go for the nose.”

It worked like a charm.

My Dad was full of wisdom but he never pushed it on us and if you weren't careful, you could easily miss it.

Part 4:

My Mom was the glue that held everything together. I always felt supported by Mom (and Dad) in whatever crazy notion I had. Even when I decided to go to music school to learn how to play guitar. That must've been a bit of a blow to them if they had ever thought I was going to be a successful businessman or something. They didn't have any money to help, but they did help me apply for a student loan and get me settled in an apartment with two roudy friends. I'm sure they were terrified, but I made it through and I paid off that loan, because that's just what you do.

Mom was mainly a stay at home Mom when we were young, which was awesome, though I never really knew anything else. Later on, when we fell on tougher times, Mom picked up work doing laundry to get us through. She was determined to give us three kids everything she could and do whatever it took to make that happen.

I remember Mom and Dad arguing a little bit, but hardly ever (again, this doesn't mean they hardly ever argued, just that I wasn't necessarily aware of it). They were still happily married for more than 53 years when my Dad passed away in March of this year.

So, that's it. I was (and am) extremely privileged to have had two parents who modelled love, dedication, and responsibility; who believed in me and made sure I knew the really important stuff, regardless of whether I made it to all my classes in high school or not, and made me believe that I could accomplish anything I put my mind to; and to have had grandparents who began setting it all up before either of my parents were even born.

It's true that I've taken it for granted and it's also true that I haven't likely made the best use of everything my parents taught me, but I'm sure that whatever little successes (and big ones) I've had in life can be directly (or at least indirectly) attributed to my privilege of having had two parents in a stable, loving relationship that were always in my court, always rooting for me, and always there for me.

That's my privilege, and it's certainly real because it probably gave me a leg up over some of my friends who didn't have that kind of stability and encouragement, but I won't apologize for it. Even in my fifties now, I still wonder at times if I really know what the hell I'm even doing, but the foundation I got from my parents will at least allow me to figure it out as I go along with minimal damage (and I still am).

In case you missed it, my privilege has nothing to do with the colour of my skin, the language I speak, or how much money I have. It is something I didn't work for and it does give me a better chance at success, though my definition of success may be different than yours.

The important thing about my privilege is that although it has little to do with anything I've done, it has everything to do with what my parents and grandparents did and the attitudes they held. This means that it can take as little as one generation to create this kind of privilege, even if it doesn't already exist in the life of the one creating it.

In a very real sense, this is inherited but that doesn't mean it's a guarantee of any kind of success. As I wrote in The Natural State of Everything, nothing gets better without constant attention, but as any good music instructor will tell you, starting out with a good foundation is the best recipe for success. Maybe if we started emphasising laying the foundation instead of playing the victim, we'd all be further ahead.