American Priveledge

I left for home one day after an in class discussion on race privilege and prejudice that was sparked by the shooting of the allegedly handcuffed Jamar Clark. Waiting for the bus in the irritating cold I was approached by a stranger who began a not entirely welcome conversation, as often happens on public transit.

The man was black, in his twenties with short hair and Beats headphones dangling from his neck. "I was just over there where that police car is." He said.  I recognized my instant prejudice of the situation - being approached on public transit by a minority, and so I assumed they were probably going to ask for something. Alternatively I thought he might be trying to steal from me - the latter situation being one I have never experienced yet seemed to expect of these specific interactions. I recognized, probably in thanks to the earlier in class discussion, the conclusions I was jumping to and opened myself up to the conversation, and started listening. And he began to tell me what happened.

He approached an active police scene out of curiosity, he was wondering what was happening when the female officer on the scene yelled to him "Back up! I don't want to get shot today." He knew immediately it was because he was black, and so he left. He then approached me for conversation where I immediately jumped to my own bias about him as well. It was a short bus ride, but we sat together and we talked more about the things he deals with on an every day basis. He worked really hard to save enough money to buy a new car. The first few days after he bought it he was pulled over nine times. Whenever he sees police officer while driving this vehicle he has to assume he will be pulled over. I was able to see easily see this was a really nice young man, and I recognized it the moment I chose not to ignore him based on my own prejudice.

Just a few days later my boyfriend and I packed up Blue Blast (Our Dodge Caliber that is outfitted with a 4'' memory foam pad in the back, offering a comfortable warm place to sleep on long trips) for a pretty spontaneous trip to Colorado to catch an encore of a show we saw in Minneapolis.

600 miles into this trip, the morning of the concert and 400 miles left to our destination, Blue Blast gave up on the side of the highway After a little research we discovered that 7 miles away was our only hope - a little town of Gothenburg, NE. A small town built around community and that describes itself as progressive in many ways, with a population of 97.3% white people, and 1.8% mixed. My boyfriend and I had to split up immediately to find the nearest mile marker (The tow truck would't come without it.)  and immediately were offered help by different nice people.

In fact, everyone we interacted with or heard interacting with each other was extremely nice. We felt a little bit out of place, with my boyfriend in his fashionable hoodie and laptop messenger bag, but no one gave us a hard time. As we sat in Deb's Diner, where we could choose from a few different cheeseburgers or a crock pot buffet consisting of Chili, Spaghetti or chicken wings,  I began to think about the man I met on the bus.

Within minutes of breaking down 3 different strangers invited us into their vehicles to help us out.  A very nice homicide detective even came to help after he saw us part ways (which he assumed meant that we'd had an argument) and within a half hour we had a tow to the local auto shop.

I don't mean to suggest that Gothemburg was the type of place that may refuse service based on skin color, or maybe not give the attention we received from the local businesses, but I definitely think our skin color played a huge role in the amount of stranger support we were offered.  We were back on the road within a few hours and made it to our destination of Boulder CO with hours to spare.

When Allen Stone performed 'American Privilege' that night, it definitely took on a deeper meaning for me after everything that had happened.  And 'everything that had happened' was really nothing that hadn't been happening before. It was just everything I became more aware and sensitive to.

 My boyfriend would often joke about 'white privilege' - most often the specific trait he called 'assumed innocence.'  We'd walk up and down the back alley of this venue in Colorado hoping to catch an interesting 'behind the scenes glimpse' of the show.  He'd point out that no one would be alarmed by our presence because we don't fit the stereotype of trouble makers, and therefore would be assumed innocent rather than guilty.  This same concept comes up any time a Target door alarm goes off in his presence and no one suspects him of stealing, or how if he were to shoplift he could likely get away with the excuse of being forgetful, since that 'assumed innocence' is on his side.

The longer I reflect the more instances I can think of where this privilege has come into play, and it's definitely not something I want to bring with me to the classroom. I don't want to make assumptions about students, or families. I recognize and know that there is a current societal issue of prejudice and privilege, and I can't deny the fact that some of these things can have truth to them - even if it's just a nasty self fulfilling prophecy where our assumptions perpetuate the issue. I can't deny that it's a real issue, but I can choose to do my best not to perpetuate it and take it even further. Some students are going to have their privileges and their obstacles because of their race or background, but I can do my best to keep them out of my classroom.