White privilege, it’s something I was innately aware of for awhile but it wasn’t until last year or so that I knew there was a name for this social phenomenon.
Things tend to affect you a bit more when you know without a doubt that something not only exists, but it has a name.
Case in point the itis I had no idea what the itis was and then someone in Atlanta told me about it, that very same day I ate a handful of grapes and out of nowhere I got the itis. Mind over matter and all that jazz.
Like my realization of the itis, when I realized white privilege was a thing, then I started to notice it more often. It went from a rare occurrence to an almost daily spectacle almost over night. Sometimes it’s hilarious, other times absurd, but it’s always ridiculous. Especially when you realize people are oblivious to their own brattiness.
One of my old roommates asked if he could use something that belonged to me. I looked at him and flatly said “No”. That should’ve been it, there was no need for any further discussion. But that privilege kicked in. He went ballistic, calling me all kinds of names. How dare I not allow him to use something I bought with my own hard earned money. The audacity of me!! I had some kind of nerve saying “no” like that. Where the fuck do I come off telling someone they can’t use my stuff?? WHERE THE FUCK!?!
I was at a table with a group of people and a young white woman was telling a black woman how easy it is to find time to travel, and that the only thing holding the black woman back from seeing the world was her own fear and insecurity. Not bills. Not family. Not school obligations. Not work. Just her own fear and insecurity. The black girl took that about as well as you expect she would. She looked that white girl dead in her eyes and gave a big fake ass smile, and said “Shit you are totally right. ALL this time I’ve just been holding myself back”.
A young white woman at a bar spilled half of her Vodka on me. To make matters worse she didn’t even apologize. In fact she didn’t even notice me at all. I was like Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man. The only time she noticed me is when I tapped her on her shoulder, at which point I brought it to her attention that she had just spilled quite a bit of Vodka on my jacket.
This was her chance to redeem herself and not be another drunk ass bitch in the club. But instead she said “Ohh good thing we are both drunk! You are a cutie!!”
Annoyed I replied, “I am not drunk, and you are still spilling your drink on me!” Still not getting it she started to dance up against me, I was starting to get pissed at this point. Then she looked up at me and said, “Mmm you smell good what cologne are you wearing?”
I looked her dead in her eye and said, “Vodka! Vodka that your drunk ass spilled on me!”.
She replied “It smells great!”
Okay that last one might have been more a case of drunken bitch behavior than white privilege.