Testimony from readers about what has made a difference in their lives.
In a column last Friday, I discussed “privilege,” which often means money: “She comes from privilege,” people say. What they usually mean is: There was money, and the good things it can buy.
I wrote,
. . . money is very important. Better to have it than not to have it.
But privilege comes in many forms. Those with smarts, talent, and ambition tend to get money (certainly in free and open societies). So, those are “privileges,” you could say: smarts, talent, ambition, or a certain spark.
Are those qualities earned?
Having two parents is a privilege, we could say. Loving parents, at that. A loving home. Health — physical and mental. Friends. Looks! Would you count good looks as a privilege? They can be an advantage in life, let’s not kid ourselves.
At any rate, I don’t mean to downplay the importance of money. But we could spend a while calling the roll of privileges.
I then invited readers to give me their own thoughts about privilege — in their own lives or the lives of people they’ve known. I’m going to publish some responses. They tell us something of the complexity and richness of life.
Could I ask a favor? I’m going to publish the letters essentially as they were written, with only very light editing, if any. You won’t mind if they aren’t perfectly polished, will you? I know you won’t. It’s the thoughts that count (to adapt an old line). And I am so grateful to have received these thoughts, and to disseminate them.
Is there anything better than biography and autobiography? Than the personal? Not in my book.
A reader writes,
I was born, raised, worked, and hope to die in Fond du Lac, WI. Working class town, in the best sense. Parents were well educated and upper middle class people, but with 7 children, well, money didn’t go very far. Mom and Dad listened to opera and read so-called high class magazines like the New Yorker. Was I “privileged”? You bet! Thanks for this topic.
Says a reader,
Sir,
My father, a WWII veteran, used to say, “If you’ve got your health you’ve got everything.” Growing up, I thought he said this because of the war. Later, however, I learned it was because his younger sister had died of leukemia at 21. He was two years older.
Most people who are healthy, in my experience, rarely pause to appreciate this — what? “Miracle”? “Privilege” is better.
Another:
Good morning, Jay,
I am reading your column over coffee and recuperating from several difficult days of long-distance caregiving and care coordination for my 89-year-old mother. Yesterday while trying to balance work, the move of some of her belongings to assisted living (via FaceTime!), and her transition from a rehab facility to assisted living . . . let’s just say at the end of the day I did not feel privileged. I felt short changed.
But (you could probably sense that coming!) my life is incredibly privileged.
My Mom and Daddy loved each other and gave my sister and me an incredible life. We did not come from money, but my parents went to tech school and raised two daughters with 5 graduate degrees between us and a host of happy memories of being cherished by our parents and their rich social network in church and the community.
That same social network has facilitated my long-distance caregiving of my mom. She has neighbors, friends, colleagues from her volunteer positions who check in, take her to appointments, text me if they have concerns.
I was immersed in books as a kid, and even when there wasn’t much money, there were always books everywhere.
My mom recognized summer learning loss long before it was a commonly known term and made math and reading packets for my sister and me every summer.
So yes, I am quite privileged and incredibly thankful.
Thank you for this prompting and I look forward to chatting with my mom today.
So wonderful.
How about this?
Hi Jay,
I really appreciate your writing about how privilege isn’t just a matter of money. One type of privilege or good fortune that, thankfully, most people don’t have to be aware of is what I call fertility privilege. If you can conceive, no one requires you to prove that you are a person of good character and can provide a good home for a child; you don’t have to go through background checks, a home study, and trainings to be approved to be a parent. It certainly isn’t wrong to require all of those things for prospective foster or adoptive parents, but not having to check all those boxes is an invisible privilege.
So interesting — so very interesting.
Another letter:
I suppose I had many privileges growing up: my parents always looked for the best school system for their children and found a house they could afford within that district (Dad was in sales for Dow Chemical, so we moved every couple of years as he was moving up the ladder — again striving for better). They encouraged us to try anything we wanted to, and always tried to support our efforts (though they were not too wild about me playing hockey after seeing a picture of Bobby Hull without his bridgework).
Interestingly, the school system my brother and I grew up in had a very affluent makeup with high expectations of the students, while my sister’s school district in a different state offered 2 paths: one of least resistance and the other high expectations. She chose the former (easier) and has struggled all of her life, always with an excuse of why she was having troubles.
Maybe moving around gave my brother and me the privilege (advantage) of adapting quickly to new environments. Maybe my sister was the unexpected victim of my parents’ deteriorating marriage when she was in those formative years. Who knows? The larger point is people can either make excuses for their lot in life, or make efforts to improve it. Unfortunately, today those that make excuses are encouraged to do so because it’s always someone else’s fault why you can’t have whatever it is you want.
Writes a reader,
There is no question that I was immensely privileged, not in the monetary sense (my father was a mid-level telephone company employee, my mother a housewife until my youngest brother started college), but because I was raised in a loving two parent household by parents who had lost their fathers before they ever met each other, thus cutting short their own educational opportunities, and who, as a result, understood the value of providing a loving, disciplined, and (in our case) Christian household which valued moral behavior, work, self-discipline, self-reliance and education.
My father, who had lost his own father at age 11 after a long illness, was raised by his maternal grandfather. From the two of them I learned the importance of family and of self-sacrifice. (As an aside, my great-grandfather later took in his oldest granddaughter’s family, including her ne’er do well husband and four children, and largely raised those great-grandchildren as well.) My maternal grandmother lived with my parents from the time they were married until she died some 25 years later. From that arrangement I learned something of the blessings of multi-generational families and also the value of compromise in human interactions.
I was equally privileged to have an education that taught me how to learn as well as teaching the contents of the subject matter in question and, for the most part, teachers who encouraged me to stretch my mind and achieve more than I thought possible. The school district, located in one of the inner ring counties adjacent to Philadelphia, transitioned from primarily rural to suburban in the 12 years I attended it. Unlike many today, it (like my parents) valued academic achievement as much or more than athletic achievement and those who succeeded academically were recognized in the same way star athletes seem to be recognized at high schools today.
I was further privileged to receive a sound theological grounding in the Christian faith, with a focus on the faith that seems almost quaint today in an era when Christianity seems to be passé and orthodox (small “o” intended) Christianity seems to have been superseded by a kind of God and Country faith or a liberal brand that seems to have adopted the prevailing zeitgeist as its standard in lieu of the historic teachings of scripture and tradition. This grounding has helped me on many occasions to (if I may steal from Kipling) keep my head when all about are losing theirs.
Finally, I have been privileged over a lifetime to have numerous opportunities to share the blessings I have enjoyed with others. Whether with my own four children, two stepchildren, or five grandchildren, I have sought and continue to seek to inculcate in them the values that have so richly blessed me. In addition, I have had opportunities too numerous to mention to serve others through church, non-profit and other organizations, including a small K-8 school in one of the worst neighborhoods of Philadelphia where we provide a quality, Christian education to approximately 100 students who would otherwise be condemned to an utterly failing public school system.
None of this privilege was the result of something unique about my race, my sex, my parents’ financial condition or the community in which I lived. These opportunities are freely available to many, if not most, people, should they be willing to take advantage of them when offered.
I listen to the discussions of privilege that characterize it as something racial, or ethnic, or gender based, or economic, and would suggest to you that the focus is incorrect. The real privilege is to be loved and to be able to love in return. If you have that, you are greatly privileged and if you lack that, nothing you have will ever replace it.
I’d like to repeat what the letter-writer has said: “The real privilege is to be loved and to be able to love in return.” Marvelous.
Another:
I prefer the term “advantage.” Some people have advantages that others don’t have. Some have disadvantages.
Another:
If there is privilege in America, it is the privilege of children — children of any background — who get to see their father get up and work hard every day, who get to see their father come home and treat their mother with respect and who know that their father loves them unconditionally.
Writes a reader,
Jay, my father, who was born in 1923, was raised among the coal mines of West Virginia during the Depression. Serving in the Pacific in World War II, he worked hard after the war at a local factory, and then took advantage of the G.I. Bill to go to college. After graduating, he took a huge risk by purchasing a failing business in our town of Kingsport, Tennessee, and, while I was a young boy, worked it into a financial success.
One day we found ourselves moving to one of the more prestigious streets in town. I considered myself very privileged. In grade school I was on the patrol boys, who assisted students with crossing streets and so on. Each year, we were rewarded with a trip in May to Washington DC. It was on our dime and cost around $50 at the time. Some of the patrol boys obviously couldn’t afford it, but I was surprised and pleased to see that they were boarding the Capital bound bus with the rest of us . I learned many years later from the retired elementary school principal that my father had anonymously paid every underprivileged boy’s trip.
So, yes, I was privileged to be solidly in the middle class and live on a nice street. But I was far more privileged to have a father who never forgot where he came from and never overlooked those boys in whom he glimpsed his younger self.
My body tingled, on reading that.
A reader writes,
Greetings, Jay.
You asked, so I write.
I am president of a Catholic high school founded in the early 20th century that serves [the core of a major city].
A mother with two sons recently shared that she was an attorney in her home country, but cleans homes here so that her sons will not face the dangers that killed her brother at age 21.
I think of that when I think of “privilege.” In her home country, this mother probably would be considered a person of privilege. Here, she is a mom who makes real sacrifices.
Sacrifice transforms privilege, I think. It is a matter of what we of our own accord do with what life gives us that is not of our own accord.
From another reader:
Hi, Jay!
I was just thinking about this topic. What came to mind was a friend of mine who once boasted about how “I’ve worked for everything I’ve got.” He’s an accomplished man, a successful ER doc, a rental property owner, a business owner. He seems to treat making money as a pastime, which is all well and good.
But his statement was in the context of putting some other people down. “If I can work hard and become successful, why can’t these other people?”
I don’t remember how I responded (this was quite a while ago), but it sparked a lot of thinking on my part. What I wanted to say to him, in retrospect, was something like, “Yeah, but think of all the head starts you had! You were born intelligent and talented (he’s good at a lot of stuff). Your parents were well off, and stayed together. They loved you — and they valued achievement and hard work, and instilled that in you. If you had been born in the same circumstances as these other people, are you so confident you still would have achieved what you have?”
That’s certainly a form of privilege.
The other thought I had — yesterday, when I was thinking about this stuff — is kind of, so what? That is, I don’t think we should devalue somebody’s achievements because they had those head starts, because of that “privilege.” It’s true, my friend did work very hard and in that sense very much “deserves” his success. Good for him.
I think that’s where we get into trouble, when we start thinking people’s achievements shouldn’t count because of their so-called privilege. But we should also acknowledge that those who don’t have those head starts may need some extra help. Not by lowering standards but by trying to help those who need a boost getting started, or getting out of a tough life situation.
I don’t really like the term “giving back,” as in “to the community.” But I like the idea that people who have become successful — whether “privileged” or not — bear some moral responsibility to help others, whether it’s back in their old neighborhood or an area that they just know needs some help. For that matter, I feel God calls everyone (not just the successful) to help others however they can.
It’s a tricky subject, “privilege.” It’s certainly gotten very buzzworthy, and has a lot of negative connotations in certain circles. But it’s certainly a topic that I don’t think we can or should dismiss too readily.
Perhaps focusing on gratitude is the key?
Magnificent.
Another letter:
I came from privilege and did quite well as did my older brother. We both got accounting degrees and became CPAs.
Two of my sisters were nurses and the other worked at the Post Office. One other brother did okay doing home remodeling.
The last brother did home remodeling and was a cook but he died relatively young maybe related to issues of abuse.
Were we helped by having good parents and grandparents? Yes. But we still had to work and make good decisions.
We have several friends whose kids are a mess.
I also know kids with the opposite story whose parents either could not or would not help their kids and the kids did well.
To me the bottom line is no matter your situation it ultimately is up to you to succeed.
I can help you succeed if you want but I can’t make you a success.
I have been involved in our Boys and Girls Club over ten years and that’s what we do. Give those kids a place and that support to succeed.
To me that is our responsibility. Help kids succeed by understanding and providing what they need but not ignoring or facilitating bad decisions.
From another reader:
Dear Jay,
I am a white, middle aged woman who grew up on a farm in IL. I have 2 parents and I graduated from high school and college. My parents saved money, and I worked jobs and took out a loan (which I paid back) to pay for that education.
My husband (and don’t even get him started on this subject) is the product of Scottish parents, who scrimped and saved to come to America legally many years ago. He also worked and saved for his college education.
We have raised 2 sons, put them through college, and they are now “launched” and we are empty nesters living in a lovely small town north of Chicago. As you can imagine, Jay, my blood boils when I hear about my privilege. My husband and I have saved for all that we have done, do, and will do.
So yah, privileged.
Finally, during the height of covid frenzy, the hubs and I agreed we would wait our turn to get vaxed. (Another subject for another time.) All the while, people around me who didn’t meet the qualifications for “head of the line” needs to get vaxed early, were doing so. They were lying and crossing state borders to jump the lines. I was urged to use my privilege and get a jab earlier than allowed, by the same folks who would normally rant and rave about white privilege.
So that’s how I feel when I hear someone use the “P” word.
A reader writes,
Jay,
Appreciated the article on Privilege.
I am “privileged” in numerous ways, or one might say blessed.
Yet one I’m not is height, being 5’4″.
I have noticed that leadership positions tend to go to those taller than average.
When people talk vaguely of being discriminated against, or being unfairly passed over, I think about my being vertically challenged.
On the other hand I can be comfortable in the back seat or on a flight compared with those “tallies.”
Maybe every privilege comes with a downside. I think focusing on what we can be grateful for rather than how we are mistreated is key to being happy.
Interesting.
Writes a reader,
On privilege, I do have a few thoughts, the first of which is: privilege is not a permanent state of grace and I’m not sure why it is treated as such.
Being born to money doesn’t guarantee that you will be wise with that money. Aside from any moral accounting for what you might do with that money, many born to unearned wealth leave life broke and without having made a ripple in the world they live in.
Beauty? An absolute head start, but not one that is maintained. Time, bad habits, genetics, accident, what have you robs most of that special beauty that youth gifted them. And for some, beauty becomes so much of a crutch in their younger years that they don’t know what to do when it has gone — for them, that early beauty was as much a curse as it was a blessing.
Most points of privilege are similar: they aren’t absolute, they aren’t forever, and they aren’t guarantors of anything resembling a good life (much less, a Good Life, if you take my meaning).
By any standards, my parents weren’t the best, but was there a privilege in some of that bad parenting? I learned strength and self-sufficiency from them; I learned to keep going when times are difficult. Isn’t that some form of privilege?
I have come to believe that the two biggest privileges that I was born to (it certainly wasn’t going to be money or looks) were a decent mind and a curious nature. But I also remember watching my grandmother taken slowly by dementia as she aged. Those things I value most could still be stolen from me in the end.
Did they give me some sort of head start? I suppose they did, but they did not give me some permanent advantage in life and it isn’t a zero sum game where what was given to me was taken from some other poor, unfortunate bastard.
Nature is uneven with her gifts and curses and we have to learn to do our best with what she hands out. People who complain so much about privilege seem to have a difficult time learning that lesson.
So very interesting.
A final letter:
I am 52 years old and serve as a Correctional Educator. I consider myself privileged because I was raised by two parents. In essence, the family (over time, through my one grandfather) inherited money which allowed my parents to save more than others which allowed me and my sister to never really know hunger, the threat of homelessness and many of the other conditions that some people deal with from the day they are born. If I made a mistake, and I have, there was enough pull through my family to have me learn a lesson without serious consequences. Therefore, growing up, I had my moments, but was able to learn from those moments without any true setback to my future course.
So the money, connections, and the ability to be raised by two parents have given me an advantage others did not, or do not have. I recognize this. At this stage in my life, I try to stay humble and grateful for all the moments I had grace on my side and try my hardest not to judge others. I still sometimes fail when it comes to judging, but the phrase, “but for the Grace of God, there go I,” is one that I can relate to and try to remember on a daily basis.
Again, thank you for the thoughtful articles.
And thank you, my friends, for your thoughtful letters. Enriching. Am grateful. And will see you later.
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