The 2017 Shari Prestemon Social Justice Interns have graciously agreed to share their experiences with all of us. From time to time, we’ll be posting ‘journal entries’ from Naiomi Gonzalez and Katy Morton. Below is one of these entries.
Let’s Talk About Privilege and Oppression
One of my favorite views in Biloxi is from the Blu restaurant at Treasure Bay Hotel and Casino. It is beautiful but it also signifies the contrast of the city: on the one hand you have wealth (or the illusion of wealth) but if you spend time in Biloxi away from the casinos you will see poverty and homelessness.
One of the reasons injustice is so hard to fully combat is because injustice takes on multiple forms and one can both be a victim of oppressive institutions while also benefiting from oppression. For instance, as an Afro-Latina woman, racism and the threats and fears that it entails permeates my daily life. I’ve dated police officers, yet the reality of being Afro-Latina means that I still fear being in a car that is pulled over by a cop. It means even though I believe that the second amendment should be inclusive and benefit every citizen that because of my skin color, it is a right I need to exercise with much more care and due diligence than perhaps some of my white peers.
I move in and out of institutions that are predominately white – for instance academia and many mainline churches. Many of my white colleagues and peers within academia and the Church have become my closest friends and confidants, yet I also have to deal with back handed racist remarks in which I am consistently told that I am not actually “black” or “black enough” or that my experiences of racism are invalid. Yet even though I am impacted by racism, the reality is that I also experience numerous benefits as a result of my education level and lighter skin. While I resent being told by those in predominately white institutions that I am not black enough, however that is defined, I also need to acknowledge that in a society where blackness is viewed as dangerous and as a threat, the ability to be considered light enough that white people do not consider me “black” or “too black” is a privilege.
And when it comes to poverty and homelessness, the reality is that although I have experienced some forms of poverty: growing up in public housing, being on Medicaid as a kid, and surviving on my mom’s SSID. I always had enough to eat, the bills were paid on time, and with the help of student loans and grants and scholarships, I have been able to follow my passion and go to school.
Privilege and oppression aren’t clear cut concepts. One can be a victim of one sort of institutional oppression while also benefiting from another kind. This concept was particularly clear as I spent two afternoons this past week at the Micah Day Center, interacting with some of the homeless people that rely on the services of the day center. The homeless people that are served by the Micah Center come from variety of races and ethnicities, ages, educational backgrounds, and skill sets. While some homeless clients may not have experienced the same level of racism that I live with, I also have never had to live on the streets or sleep under a bridge. I have never had to pack everything I own inside of a car and hope that I could somehow afford to keep it running or to keep making payments on it, so that I wouldn’t lose the only home I have.
As a graduate student, money is always tight and I rely heavily on credit cards and student loans to survive. But I also have the privilege of going to school and having enough stability and flexibility to earn multiple degrees in the hopes that I will one day find a stable job. But even then, of course that’s no guarantee that things will eventually work out. I was surprised to learn that quite a few of our homeless clients have at least some post-secondary education but for a variety of reasons, they find themselves on the streets struggling to survive. One of the homeless clients I spoke too, told me about how those who aren’t homeless often look down at her and she rightfully pointed out that many of us are just one or two paychecks away from homelessness. But I’ve rarely thought about that because it hasn’t been something I’ve needed to think about until I arrived at Back Bay.
As someone who cares deeply about injustice, Back Bay Mission is opening my eyes to some of the ways in which I have a modicum of privilege. It is a measure of privilege to be able to talk about applying to PhD programs while others are struggling to find the money to keep possession of their cars/homes. It is a sign of privilege for me to apply to internship programs, which can open doors to future career paths, while those struggling with homelessness need a job NOW.
My internship at Back Bay is forcing me to acknowledge the complexity of injustice and poverty. It is forcing me to recognize that yes, while because of my race and sexual orientation, I will have to contend with some forms of institutional oppression, I also have a number of privileges that I need to acknowledge and also use to try and advocate for a more just society for all.
