Blog #5: Being White

*This blog post was a somewhat difficult one to write, but one that I think is incredibly important nonetheless. I of course can only speak to my own experiences, and in no way claim to reflect the opinions or experiences of any group as a whole. Additionally, I want to send a huge thanks to Lizzy (catch her next to me in the picture below) for answering my questions and having an open and honest conversation with me about her personal experience as a biracial woman. I’m grateful for you!

As a white person growing up in Midwest America, I’ve had the privilege to never have to have conversations about my race. With white being the default, I could breeze by and never talk about it if I really wanted. In fact, for a long time, my own race wasn’t something I would say I was even consciously aware of— I never had to think about the ways in which my white skin affects my life. Never have I felt like I was in danger, nor that anyone surrounding me has held negative opinions about me purely based on the color of my skin. Unsurprisingly, being a member of the privileged majority makes things pretty easy.

Although I have made a conscious effort over the years to recognize my own privilege as a white person, the power this carries has never been more evident to me than during my time here in India. Immediately upon my arrival, I began to become more consciously aware of my race. With my fair skin, blonde hair, and light eyes, I stick out like a sore thumb here; the constant stares from people surrounding me ensure I don’t forget this. Here, I’m a minority.

After talking with Lizzy, I found a couple of similarities in our experiences as minorities (my experience lasting for a couple of weeks, hers for her entire life). The conscious, constant awareness of my race that is a new phenomenon for me is something Lizzy has experienced her entire life. Sticking out in a crowd full of people who look different from me is a weird experience for me to wrap my mind around. Lizzy told me that she’s used to sticking out. Because of my minority status here, I have shared these experiences for the first time.

Looking at these experiences, one might say that being here has helped to show me what life is like for minorities in the United States. Yet, after considering the circumstances, I would argue that this is actually far from the truth. Although I do stick out here, my status as a minority hasn’t negatively affected my privilege. In fact, if nothing else, it’s exacerbated it. Whereas in the United States I believed I was privileged because I was a part of the majority, here I am privileged because of my status as a minority. In reality, my privilege stems not from the prevalence of people who look like me, but instead solely from the way I look. White privilege is white privilege no matter how many white people are around.

On one of my first days in Bangalore, someone told me that I will never get to experience what India is really like, because I will always be experiencing it as a white person. No matter how long I spend here, I will always be treated differently. I have been told dozens of times that my fair skin automatically makes me more attractive to people here. I can see this in the captivated stares and smiles as I walk by. Apparently, because I am white, many people are nicer to me. I get noticeably better service in restaurants. If my white privilege were considered subtle in the United States, it’s essentially shouting from the rooftops in India, and everything I experience here is filtered through this lens of privilege.

To be quite honest, grappling with this has been tough for me. Perhaps not tough, but just weird. Even when I desperately don’t want it to be the case, my experiences here are filtered through my white privilege. I can feel the power I hold here, and this makes me uncomfortable. (Not that I think this is comparative at all to the disadvantages others face because of their race). On the one hand, I wish I didn’t have this power or privilege at all. On the other, I figure that since I have it, I just as well use it to bring visibility to others who don’t. Finding the right balance between denying my privilege and taking advantage of it is not an easy task, and I know I have made mistakes. As I navigate issues such as appreciation vs. appropriation, I will continue to make mistakes.

In the end, I don’t have the answers. All I have is my personal experience, and a glimpse into the personal experiences of those who are willing to share with me. For the time being, I will continue to explore the beautiful culture of this country with curiosity and a genuine desire to learn more about it. I will also be open to criticism. My white privilege is something I cannot choose to get rid of, but I can choose to listen to others and recognize, apologize for, and try to fix my mistakes. Spending this time being constantly aware of my race has sparked an even larger curiosity into the ways race affects the daily lives of everyone everywhere, and I want to keep learning and hearing from others in order to do better. Because of this, I sincerely hope that anyone reading this reaches out to me, for any reason at all. Did I say something that makes you uncomfortable? Please let me know. Do you want to hear more about the ways in which being white affects my daily life here? I’d be happy to tell you some stories. I believe that open and honest conversations about tough issues are the best way to move forward in a direction that is better suited for all people, so let’s talk.