Sharing the Last Slice of Privilege
"Would I give up my whiteness to be Black?"she asks. Her answer is yes. Mine is a definitive NO.
This is not to say that I see being Black as a bad thing in any way. It is, however, in this society, a genuine disadvantage, and why would anyone simply give up any advantages he or she has to serve some sort of guilt-ridden non-purpose?
Would I give up my legs to be a paraplegic? No.
Would I give up my mental health to be schizophrenic? No.
Would I give up my American citizenship to be European? Maybe...
The question is broader than the skin color or the rich cultural heritage. The question asked is more complicated.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?