UNDERSTANDING PRIVILEGE
These days it might be a voice note or video clip, but when sociologist and civil rights pioneer W.E.B. Du Bois wanted to impart parental wisdom and love to his daughter in boarding school, he relied on pen and paper.
It was 1914, and Yolande, aged 14, had recently enrolled at one of England’s most prestigious institutions.
Holding the distinction of being the first African American person to receive a doctorate from Harvard University, Du Bois was aware that in Britain his daughter would also not have peers who looked or sounded like her, least of all because she came from a different country.
Wanting to assure and ensure Yolande of her rightful place and worth to study at Bedales School, Du Bois wrote his daughter a letter.
In it, he shared enduring truths about her privilege and inalienable human rights:
Dear Little Daughter:
I have waited for you to get well settled before writing. By this time I hope some of the strangeness has worn off and that my little girl is working hard and regularly.
Of course, everything is new and unusual. You miss the newness and smartness of America. Gradually, however, you are going to sense the beauty of the old world: its calm and eternity and you will grow to love it.
Above all remember, dear, that you have a great opportunity. You are in one of the world’s best schools, in one of the world’s greatest modern empires. Millions of boys and girls all over this world would give almost anything they possess to be where you are. You are there by no desert or merit of yours, but only by lucky chance.
Deserve it, then. Study, do your work. Be honest, frank and fearless and get some grasp of the real values of life. You will meet, of course, curious little annoyances. People will wonder at your dear brown skin and the sweet crinkley hair. But that simply is of no importance and will soon be forgotten. Remember that most folk laugh at anything unusual, whether it is beautiful, fine or not. You, however, must not laugh at yourself. You must know that brown is as pretty as white or prettier and crinkley hair as straight even though it is harder to comb. The main thing is the YOU beneath the clothes and skin – the ability to do, the will to conquer, the determination to understand and know this great, wonderful, curious world. Don’t shrink from new experiences and custom. Take the cold bath bravely. Enter into the spirit of your big bed-room. Enjoy what is and not pine for what is not. Read some good, heavy, serious books just for discipline: Take yourself in hand and master yourself. Make yourself do unpleasant things, so as to gain the upper hand of your soul.
Above all remember: your father loves you and believes in you and expects you to be a wonderful woman.
I shall write each week and expect a weekly letter from you.
Lovingly yours,
Papa
This fatherly note is now considered to be part of the body of work that credits Du Bois as one of the first scholars to study privilege as a concept.
One of the first references made was published in 1903. In his book, The Souls of Black Folk, Du Bois recounted observations of racial discrimination. Over the years, he wrote extensively, including a seminal piece in 1935 in which he referenced how he saw white people being treated differently in society. His list of observations of preferential responses included: courtesy and deference, unimpeded admittance to all public functions, lenient treatment in court, and access to the best schools.
Though he was an author, historian and sociologist, Du Bois did not receive or experience many of these privileges. For all the ways in which being a black man came with prejudices, he was also amongst the few to access some freedoms and opportunities traditionally reserved for whites.
Since Du Bois’ early writings, privilege has been studied further and expansively. Over the past few years it’s a term that has caused dissent and disillusionment. And a reality that is being increasingly challenged, interrogated and disrupted.
In South Africa, it’s most commonly referenced in the context of race: that there are privileges white people enjoy which are denied or withheld from black people. Privilege however comes in many different forms such as gender, age, religion and class.
As a term, it is contentious and layered; with many different interpretations and applications.
A LUCKY HOBBY
Chichewa is the most widely known language in Malawi. Adapted dialects are also spoken in Zambia, Mozambique and Zimbabwe. Though it hasn’t crossed over to the north or south of the continent, there is one word that would likely delight stomachs from Senegal to the Seychelles.
Malawians speak with reverence of nkhuli – a type of hunger that cannot be satisfied with steaming mounds of nsima, subdued by freshly chopped and fragrant kachumbari salad or appeased with gulps of thobwa.
When a nkhuli yearning strikes, it either needs to be completely ignored or indulged by the sole subject of its desire: meat. Nothing else will work.
Growing up in Kasungu district in central Malawi, William Kamkwamba and his friends would go hunting to feed bouts of nkhuli. Birds were their most accessible prey, and often the only meat their families would roast and then delightedly devour. On a normal day, the Kamkwambas ate whatever they’d farmed and harvested off the land.
Until 2002, when birds and crops and humans were nearly wiped out by a famine.
Communities did whatever they could to survive. For William’s family, this was to eliminate tuition fees from the household budget.
As subsistence farmers, the agricultural devastation meant they were at risk of starving to death.
Over a hundred people are reported to have died as a result of this famine. Many households would never again be the same, but the Kamkwambas survived.
William was no longer in school, but he decided he could still get an education. Visiting the library regularly, he was free to indulge intellectual curiosities at whim. Engineering was an ongoing interest and so he read about it voraciously.
Guided by a book on how to use energy, he taught himself to build wind turbines. Constant experimentation and improvements in iteration resulted in William eventually designing and building a windmill that began to power some of the electrical appliances in his family home.
Using bicycle parts, bluegum trees and material collected from the local scrapyard, he figured out how to harness the power of the wind. And it changed his life.
For five years, he was unable to continue with high school, but today William is a renowned innovator, engineer and author. He has a university degree, is the subject of a documentary film, William and the Windmill, and the subject of a 2019 Netflix film which is adapted from his book, The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind. He is also now working on developing technology curricula.
This radical change in the trajectory of his life has in many ways been powered by the wind. Wind power brought radical change to the lives of his family members when William built the windmill. They acquired easy and affordable access to electricity and, consequently, to a whole new world of food preservation, technological communication and even new entertainment options.
Wind power can change lives; and it’s this immutable fact that makes it an insightful illustration of privilege.
POWERED BY WIND
In 1988, American Professor and activist Peggy McIntosh published an essay, White Privilege and Male Privilege: A Personal Account of Coming to See Correspondences Through Work in Women’s Studies.
In it she shared how career highlights such as becoming a Harvard professor and getting research grants could not be credited solely to her hard work.
McIntosh described that there had been ‘big institutional arbitrary circumstances that were putting wind at my back with regard to getting grants and getting credibility’.
While some aspects of her career journey are unique, for many people privilege is the gust of wind that blows away obstacles and makes it easier to move forward. Privilege elevates some voices above others, and can transform input into a powerful blast, instead of a mere billow.
It bolsters some efforts while blocking others.
Kamkwamba and McIntosh can both testify to the power and effect of the wind in their lives, but their experiences are vastly different.
For one, the wind was a tool; for the other, it was a secret and powerful ally.
MEETING OF THE MINDS
In his TEDx talk Recognising Privilege: Power to all People, educator Michael Yates describes how navigating life without privilege can be like playing a card game when you don’t know the rules but the other players do. They seem to know which ones to follow, how to bend the ambiguous ones and which scenarios call for the application of certain rules. Unwritten and unspoken, these regulations are hard to learn and impossible to abide by.
Players in the know are, however, able to participate and contend for victory. They will need to be skilful, persevere when the deal of cards is unlucky and have a smart strategy to play, but by virtue of already knowing how it works, they stand a chance of winning the game.
For those with skill, perseverance and strategic thinking, but no knowledge of the rules, Yates gives a sobering forecast in his talk. ‘Chances are, if you played that game a thousand times, you would lose every single time.’
Learning while playing means you wouldn’t be able to play at full strength; and would likely fall behind and perhaps even eventually fall out.
Another commonly utilised illustration that helps expound the concept of privilege, is an exercise called The Race of Life. Variations abound, but in its simplest form a group of people are placed at a starting line and instructed to take a step forward if a particular statement applies to them. Victory is claimed by the individual who makes it to the finishing line first.
Different forms of stratification such as gender, race or sexual orientation can be demonstrated. If, for example, the intention is to highlight the privileges of socioeconomic status, statements to be read out could include:
•I had access to a tutor if I needed one during school.
•I’ve never had the responsibility of helping mum and dad with the household bills.
•I’ve never wondered where my next meal was coming from.
•My parents are still married.
•Going to college has always been a certainty, if I wanted it.
Each response of yes would mean a step forward towards the finishing line.
Going through these statements and seeing the distance widen between those who are able to move onward and those who stay stationary is a stark portrayal of how external conditions and circumstances can foster success. In the case of this game, victory goes to whoever gets to the end first. In real life, victory is often material – with winners being awarded money, promotions, training, company benefits and other facilitators of even more success.
McIntosh’s work on systemic privilege has led her to another analogy – that of a backpack. She describes her privilege using the metaphor of ‘an invisible knapsack of special provisions, assurances, tools, maps, guides, codebooks, passports, visas, clothes, compass, emergency gear, and blank checks’.
When her metaphorical backpack was handed out at birth, McIntosh acknowledges that her intelligence, work ethic or abilities were not factored. She didn’t have to earn the contents or demonstrate her worthiness of them.
Consequently she acknowledges that her career success is not solely the result of physical inputs. An invisible backpack she’s been able to carry around everywhere has supplied vital resources. When hard work is combined with the contents of such backpacks, chances of success increase. And, sometimes, even despite the lack of intelligence or a good work ethic.
In exploring the invisible knapsack she’d carried her whole life, McIntosh listed 46 advantages, some of which she experienced every day as a white person. These included ‘I can go shopping most of the time, pretty well assured that I will not be followed or harassed’; ‘I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race’; and ‘If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the IRS audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race’.
McIntosh has focused on white privilege but her learnings are applicable to the many forms and varieties of privilege.
SET APART
For a number of different reasons, being a black female in South Africa is tough, but being a middle to upper class black South African affords me some privileges. Here are some privileges that I enjoy:
•If I were to be in need of legal counsel, I could hire and pay a lawyer to pursue justice on my behalf.
•My eyesight, smile and hygiene are not inhibited by my income.
•I don’t ignore medical emergencies or avoid seeing a doctor for a check-up because of financial limitations.
•When I’m up for a salary increase or negotiating an increased salary with a new employer, I know it will be counted in thousands of rands not hundreds.
•The temperature in my house can be easily and safely adjusted to reflect my preferences.
A set of circumstances that I had no control over resulted in my being born into a family that could afford many basics, and some luxuries. That’s why I wear reading glasses today and enjoy some extravagances like having a selection of my favourite authors on my to-read list, and a cupboard full of my chosen snacks.
Being able to read what I like is a product of my hard work. Working and earning affords me the ability to buy books as I please. But being able to read literary delights is a basic right of education and literacy that is not given equally to all who live in this country.
Through no fault of their own, children are born into families in which parents do not have money to send them to school, let alone take them to an optometrist. Yet they are just as deserving as I am, of access to education and health care. My privilege has given me what they too deserve.
When I first started recognising my own class privilege, I caught myself in an internal dialogue of defence that I have heard all too often when race is being discussed:
‘But I work really hard to be able to afford medical aid.’
And, ‘Of course my salary increase should reflect my value to my employer.’
And the pitiable wail, ‘But I am a nice person’.
These rebuttals may be true for myself and many in the middle to upper classes.
But they don’t address the weight and responsibility of privilege.
When we talk of the advantages of my socioeconomic class, it includes the fact that I can afford to fly overseas to visit a friend. And, yes, I do work hard to be able to afford international travel.
Critique of privilege is however not always with reference to the luxuries of life. Sometimes acquiring and exercising privilege requires the violation of other people’s human rights.
Social stratification occurs and can’t be avoided. There will always be variations in standards of living and access to resources. Class divides cannot be eradicated as there will always be people who have less than others.
Segregation can, however, be a major concern, and should not always be accepted as a part of life. It can become a human rights violation when it affords the basics of life to one group and denies it to another.
This can be done by corralling the wind to blow its breeze only in one direction and never in others. It can be done by creating smoother and clearer pathways for some individuals on the Race of Life, while either leaving or contributing to the debris on other paths. It can be done by filling some backpacks with extra and back-up resources while leaving others empty.
In South Africa, allocation of privilege was through a system of governance that prioritised whites over blacks. It meant black citizens often didn’t have access to basics like electricity, sanitation, water or education. Distribution of these was limited to a select minority. Decades later, there are still millions of citizens living without these essentials.
And yet a key tenet of modern society is that everybody deserves justice, and medical treatment in an emergency, and a standard of living that rises alongside rising living costs, and access to health care that can both keep people from dying and then keep them alive and healthy.
Privilege is having access to many of these primary resources. Often it’s from birth – before you’ve worked even a day, demonstrated your intelligence or proven your worth. Sometimes privilege comes later in life, assisted by the acquisition of a backpack, or a fortuitous gale that blows open important doors, or a clearing in the road that suddenly speeds up the pace of progress.
Such serendipities are not widely or equitably distributed. Basic human rights, however, should be. Because when these basic rights and needs are not fulfilled, poverty pervades.
Consequently, efforts to alleviate poverty cannot be removed from the acknowledgement of privilege. There is correlation between these two states of living: people are either poor or privileged based on their access to critical resources like running water and electricity.
Many factors contribute to staying or moving out of either state but the one into which you were born is the biggest factor. In both cases it’s unearned, yet all human beings are equally deserving of not starting life in destitution.
Recognising privilege is important if we hope to eradicate poverty. Doing so removes the burden of sole responsibility on the poor to earn access to a flushing toilet or a schoolteacher.
Taking heed of how varying contributors, like the fortune of being born into a middle class family, or the luck of the wind blowing in the right direction at the right time meaning a family friend has the email address for the HR manager at your dream company, can help us to stop judging the poor and move us to ensuring that they too gain access to these unearned basics.
Having started off with a fairer understanding of privilege, over the next few chapters we’ll look into ways in which unjust thinking perpetuates poverty and protects privilege.
Then in the final chapters of this section, we’ll explore how to think and act justly by harnessing, wielding and managing these rights, benefits, opportunities and access so that we, the privileged, are not the sole beneficiaries.