A Call to Self-Awareness

I've been doing some thinking lately about power and privilege. In reading a number of thoughtful blog posts and exchanging stories with friends, I am increasingly struck by the need within my own distinctly privileged circles to acknowledge our power, to consider carefully how we use it, and to examine the influence of privilege on ourselves and others.

Privilege is a reality in our world and extends to each of us in one way or another. Denying the advantages it bestows or pretending we have less power than we do is not helpful; using our power in hurtful and destructive ways is even worse.  Dr. Margaret Aymer Oget offers some interesting perspective in this interview with Landon Whitsitt on the importance of using whatever power we have wisely.

Most recently, I was part of a rather eye-opening conversation about the careless misuse of heterosexual cisgender privilege and the pain and confusion left in its wake. I am struck by the number of LGBT friends who have had to confront this issue time and time again, not only from expected adversaries, but tragically also from people they've trusted as friends and allies. I was disappointed to note how many of the examples cited came from within "progressive" circles.

Examples ranged from proudly displaying minority friends as though they were prizes won, to inappropriate behind-the-scenes boundary crossing by virtue of some apparent perceived superiority, to sabotaging jobs and/or relationships in an effort to avoid discomfort. Some were probably unintentional breaches while others were downright malicious. All were hurtful.

Of course, it's always possible when sharing personal stories that some will be less than accurate, but the number of accounts from varied sources and the core quality uniting them leads me to believe there are dark and long-standing problems here that need a light shined on them.

It's never fun to stare down our own ill-advised behavior, and it is tempting to point to someone else who is far "worse" than we are. I'm certainly not arguing against calling others to account, but sometimes we progressives want to believe that exemplary work in other areas buys us a pass. It doesn't. We can't just be vigilant of others. We have to engage in meaningful ongoing self-evaluation.

This kind of assessment is easier said than done, because we have so many ingrained defenses and established paradigms. It's a challenge to view our actions through the lens of someone whose life experiences are markedly different from ours. It's a bit like trying to proofread your own writing. Even when looking directly at what you wrote, you may instead read what you meant to write.

But approaching old topics from new angles can be illuminating. The person-on-the-street video interview, "When did you decide to be straight?" that went viral a few months ago is an example of simply and effectively shifting the perspective of a conversation in a way that allows for re-examination of our assumptions. I was encouraged by the way the young people below from the Gay/Straight Alliance of Sequoyah High School built on that same theme.

It occurs to me that my LGBT friends have been self-evaluating all their lives. Society pretty much gives them no choice but to analyze and over-analyze themselves. But those of us who identify strongly as straight have gotten away with putting our heads in the sand--sometimes even to the point of treating others badly in order to maintain a facade or avoid risking our societal status. It's past time for straight folks to step up our self-awareness. Identifying areas of privilege in our lives is a useful starting point because it points to places we might be tempted to rationalize our prejudice or phobias, however subtle or egregious.

There is no shame in admitting to fear or misunderstanding. We all have blind spots. None of us is perfect. But when we deny feelings or experiences and instead devote our energies to covering up things we don't want others to notice or, worse yet, take advantage of individuals who do not share our privilege rather than advocating for those who may not have a voice, we not only look bad, we do a great deal of damage.

A therapist friend of mine recently suggested that she believes talking about these very real issues relative to sexuality is "the next wave of confronting our cultural immaturity around all things sexual." She may be right. It seems to me that meaningful adult conversation on these topics is long overdue, but it's not easy to initiate conversations about things which make virtually everyone in the room uncomfortable for one reason or another.

Most things that need to be confronted are uncomfortable, and privilege of all kinds is squarely in that category. Further complicating matters is the fact that multiple layers of privilege often co-exist, with a cumulative effect. For example: "middle-class straight white male" would include at least four layers of privilege, each with corresponding implications. When the power of that privilege is abused, and you mix in "cultural immaturity around all things sexual," the result is a toxic cocktail.

I don't see a quick fix on the horizon, but I believe some honest self-evaluation within the straight community would be a good starting point. Establishing relatively safe spaces for open conversation in which privilege is willingly set aside in favor of better understanding between people would be another worthwhile step. Deep listening and empathy may be a tall order in the current climate, but surely it would better facilitate healing than pulling rank and treating others as inherently inferior, however discrete we may think we are being about it.

If anything I've said above resonates with you, I'd love to hear from you. How do you think we might encourage better self-awareness and facilitate open respectful conversation and understanding?