Talking About Privilege

A female minority. Probably not the first demographic you’d think of when you hear the word, “privileged.” Hard to argue with you there, but I know that even as just that, a colored woman, I am privileged.

I don’t know how much I’d really taken the time to consider my own privilege up until this past week. I recently attended a program called the Summer Honors Institute at Long Island University Post, and I had an absolutely wonderful time, meeting lots of lovely new people and learning lots of exciting things. The program I did focused on finance, a field I’d previously had no opportunity to learn about in a controlled setting. There was a curious thing that my mind kept returning to, though: it was all men. Despite all the constant talk in our new millennial culture about diversity and promoting gender equality, a lot of it feels more like just talk than actual change in social structure. From the skewed ratio in our very own class, to the professors, to the very aching, beating heart of it all: Wall Street. White, middle-aged men, occasioned by Asian and black men, sparingly sprinkled by women playing secretarial roles. Finance, perhaps more so than other fields, felt like (and is) a world run by men.

In my seventeen years of existence, I have been greatly shielded from the world’s sexism. By all means, I have definitely lived the effects of a sexist society and a sexist culture, but in my own personal aspirations, I have been far overcompensated by my own advantages. With a lot of luck, I was born into an extremely blessed combination of genes and environment that has allowed me to flourish, even as a woman. Relatively intelligent and affluent surrounded by an Asian-American culture vehemently emphasizing education, I’ve grown up always quite firmly believing and experiencing that my own merits and hard work can easily beat out that of men. My intelligence, evermore amplified by opportunities for more education in a relatively-open-minded community, has allowed me to live a life wherein I almost never stop to think that maybe I can’t pursue a career or be the best at something because I am a woman. It’s the way it should be, and yet in our current society, that in itself is a privilege. I see those Wall Street men, and I feel indignant: I am just smart as any one of them, if not smarter. And I certainly know I can work just as hard.

In fact, I must be clear; seeing all those men was not a deterrent. If anything, it was a wake-up call, a stirring of a hunger inside. In the eighth grade, my father said to me, “Women have trouble handling investment banking.” Hardly eager at the time anyway, I let myself move on from the field. But guess what? I want it all, if only to prove that women are entirely capable of everything that men are. I want it all, even down to their bitter, quiet misery that comes from wearing bland suits all day in rooms air-conditioned enough to keep their cold souls at the right temperature, if that’s what it takes to be truly equal, and I want more women to want it all. Finance feels like a world run by men, but it’s about time that changed.

Aside from circumstances owed largely to my parents, there has been a clear system at play in my privilege: public schooling. In particular, upstate New York public schooling. Without a doubt, it has its many flaws. It does, however, underscore the utter importance of education. Education is the great equalizer, as the father of public schooling himself once said, and his word rings true to this very day. That’s not at all to say that all opportunities for education are equal, but rather to say that when armed with knowledge and opportunity, one is also armed with power. For those who undercut third-wave feminism, lack of equality in education is one of the primary aspects that clearly showcase its necessity. Imagine if all women - whether in rural and urban America, Latin America, the Middle East, Africa, or China - had the equal opportunity for education, all the way up to grad school, untampered by societal norms, the expectation of childbearing, and the patriarchy. We’d be an unstoppable force - more so than we already are, anyway.

Gender equality has strides upon strides to go. For those who believe otherwise - perhaps that’s a sign of privilege you have yet to consider. Before you get on blustering defense, though, it’s important to understand that privilege isn’t some evil thing meant to make you feel guilty. Recognizing your own privilege doesn’t mean that it enables others to use it as leverage for shaming you. Quite the opposite, really. Recognizing privilege is the first step to bridging inequalities, and better yet, it enables you to actively use the privilege you have to lift those around you who don’t.

You may be wondering - if I deserve to feel this way, if I am rightful to feel that I am on an equal playing field as men, then why am I calling it privilege? As an Asian woman - and not a white man - I am choosing to acknowledge my privilege because I understand that I’ve had it easier than a lot of other women, but I still see massive inequality that needs to be bridged. Moreover, I’ve spent many years conditioned in a relatively-indiscriminatory bubble. When I break from that bubble to harsher realities, I can only hope that my fundamental privileges have been enough to carry me forth with the same headstrong will. And nevertheless, privilege will always inevitably come in many different scopes and varieties, but if I can recognize that I’m in a position to help lift other women to my level, you know damn well I’m gonna use it.

*One of the days we took a field trip into Manhattan. Privilege-talk aside, it was really cool!