Ahhh. Gold ole white privilege. I never really got to enjoy mine.
I still remember when I was born. The doctor checked the silver spoon that was in my mouth and then gave my mother my official white privilege certificate.
On the same day, in the same hospital, two black kids were born. Both boys. One was named John. One was named Anthony. Just as the doctor game my mother my white privilege certificate, he gave the mothers of John and Anthony race cards for each of the two boys.
John’s mother was so happy that her son got a race card. She actually put it in a piece of clear plastic and hung it around John’s neck like a pendant.
Anthony’s mother was outraged that her son got a race card. She immediately took some scissors from her purse and cut the race card into small pieces and tossed it in the trash. When she saw the doctor looking on in surprise she told him that everyone in her family had always gotten by on hard work, honesty, and integrity. None of them had ever resorted to using a race card, and her new son would not be using one either.
Flash forward to the present…
Anthony never did apply for a new race card. He did just like his mother said her family had always done and got by on hard work, honesty, and integrity. He’s always smiling and happy. He’s a licensed plumber with a huge house, a huge brand new personal truck, and a wonderful wife and kids.
John still has his race card hanging like a pendant from his neck. It’s essentially a part of him just like the always present scowl on his face. He flashes the race card every chance that he gets. He doesn’t have a job. He’s living in government housing and is on welfare.
As for me, I tried using my white privilege certificate several times when I first got old enough to work. I figured the white privilege certificate would immediately get me hired to a cushy management position, but it didn’t work out that way. Sometimes I didn’t even get hired. When i did get hired I always had to start at the bottom of the ladder, like floor mopper, and then work my way up. Since the white privilege certificate wasn’t really any help I tossed it away years ago.
I did keep the silver spoon that was in my mouth when I was born figuring I’d have it to fall back on if times got tough, but I was wrong. All of my good paying jobs began disappearing around 2008 so I’m just stuck with this part-time, low paying gig of fictionally spirit-guiding lunatics at DU, and the half-black guy that’s living in the big white house took my silver spoon. He pawned it and kept part of the money for himself and gave part of the money to John. John used the money to get him a nice, new gold chain to use for his race card pendant.
