My Privilege

I was not born privileged. Both of my parents were poor and worked hard to overcome it. Mom was the first of her 9 siblings to graduate high school. Dad went further, investing in 6 more years of training to become a master of his trade.

Mom and Dad married as soon as she graduated. Within 6 years, they had 4 healthy kids and a mortgage on a house in the suburbs. We moved out of the city in search of more safety and better school districts. Every decision Mom and Dad made was to give us a better life than either of them had known. 

I worked hard too. I got good grades, stayed out of trouble and earned my BA with the help of part-time jobs, scholarships, grants and loans. I earned my Master’s with tuition reimbursement help from my employer. 

I have received multiple raises and promotions that have provided financial security. I have the successful and fulfilling life my grandparents and parents dreamed for me, and I am so grateful for their hard work to get me here.

***

That was my story until I realized that hard work alone does not account for success. I am just beginning to see the invisible force of privilege that has been giving me an advantage every step of the way. I need to rewrite my story.

***

I was not born privileged. Both of my parents were poor and worked hard to overcome it. Mom was the first of her 9 siblings to graduate high school. Dad went further, investing in 6 more years of training to become a master of his trade. Neither were forced to drop out of school to provide for their families. Dad was not denied admission to trade school because of the color or his skin. That was privilege.

Mom and Dad married as soon as she graduated. Within 6 years, they had 4 healthy kids, Dad’s union provided health insurance, giving our family the best health care available, a privilege not enjoyed by all parents who work hard, and a mortgage on a house in the suburbs. They were not denied a mortgage, and they got an affordable interest rate because they are white. That was privilege. We moved out of the city in in search of more safety and better school districts. Our family was not “red-lined” out of the neighborhood and we were not harassed by neighbors because of the color of our skin. That was privilege.

I worked hard too. I got good grades. My school was well-funded by suburban property taxes. That was privilege, stayed out of trouble My neighborhood was safe; I trusted the government; I saw the police as my protectors—privileges of being white and earned my BA with the help of part-time jobs, scholarships, grants and loans. I was not turned down for jobs, college or grad school admission, student loans or scholarships because of the color of my skin. That was privilege. I earned my Master’s with tuition reimbursement help from my employer. I had a job with tuition reimbursement benefits, which was privilege.  

I have received multiple raises and promotions that have provided financial security. I was not denied jobs, raises or promotions because of the color of my skin. That was privilege. I have the successful and fulfilling life my grandparents and parents dreamed for me, and I am so grateful for their hard work to get me here. In addition to hard work, I have had a life of privilege in a society that favors the color of my skin at the expense of those who are denied it.

About Denise Moreland

The dynamics between employees and managers are fascinating, and often dysfunctional. I have spent my career trying to create healthy and engaging relationships. My book, Management Culture (Two Harbors Press, 2012), identifies outdated rules and patterns, and offers fresh ideas on how we can all improve our work places. Learn more and purchase Management Culture at mgmtculture.com. Through my business, LifeGuides, I provide life coaching, facilitation and public speaking services. Please follow me on: Facebook Linkedin Twitter
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to My Privilege

  1. Anonymous says:

    Truth be spoken is honesty.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s