I have a few words to say about white male privilege.
Yesterday, I was interviewing theologian Brian Zahnd for a discussion on contemporary evangelicalism and culture when I decided to end the interview with a fun question. Since Zahnd is a big music fan, I asked him if he could go back in time to a concert of the past, what would it be? Zahnd mulled it over and then said he’d go to 1975 so he could see Led Zeppelin and The Rolling Stones in their prime.
While I thought the question was innocuous, it received an interesting reply from one commenter named Jennifer. She wrote, “I’d never go to the past. Why? Because I’m a woman and I know that I will not be safe. White men can fantasize about visiting the past. Nobody else can. For me, it’s always the future because hopefully, one day, I’ll be considered a full human being.”
Some people might be defensive at receiving a reply like that. But I was appreciative of another perspective. The truth is, Jennifer is right. As a white man, there is much in the past … and present … that I don’t have to worry about. That is a manifestation of my privilege.
For example, I remember hearing one woman say that when she parks in a parkade, she always holds her keys poking out between her knuckles, a kind of makeshift brass knuckles in case she is accosted by a stranger. As a Caucasian male, I don’t typically think such things: I go where I want and park where I want without fear.
Whether it is the workplace or society in general, we should all be committed to becoming aware of the disproportionate distribution of priviledge and the cultivation of greater equity … and safety … for all. Because nobody should be afraid to take a trip in their time machine.
