In 2001 sociologist Allan Johnson published his book, Privilege, Power, and Difference. I disagree with parts of the book, but Johnson does correctly identify many subtle social benefits of being white. On average, white people pay less than blacks for cars and per square foot of home, are less likely to be convicted with similar evidence, and as our new case worker explained to me this week, whites are less likely to have children taken from their home by social workers. White children are more likely to have positive role models of their own race, and, Allan notes, less likely to be shadowed by store clerks while shopping.
In an effort to combat this racism, many Americans support affirmative action type programs that turn the tables and favor non-whites for government contracts, educational admission, and other opportunities. Similar efforts are made to correct gender inequality as well. As a white male, I've faced quite a bit of institutional reverse discrimination. At times I've felt society overcompensated too much. I looked over Johnson's extensive lists of subtle benifits and found few that served me, but time and time again I saw where my identification as "white" limited my access and equality.
As a teen I grew up in an ethnically diverse suburb of Los Angeles. I was always "the white guy" and often suffered the exclusion that is typical of minorities in an a larger group, but made worse by the false assumption that I represented "the man". In fact, in graduate school some of my colleagues jokingly called me "the man" because I was the token white male (there was actually two of us) in a cohort of several dozen graduate students, and yet I somehow embodied the power structure (according to standard protest models).
As I completed my studies it also became obvious that as a white male I would simply be overlooked for most positions teaching Native American history. At conferences I attended many pseudo-academics asserted that by virtue of Indian ancestry they had access to some essential knowledge that could not be accessed by a white guy. This common racial essentialization is at direct odds with the very premise of academic inquiry (the notion that we can actually learn something), but that does not stop the growing ranks of pseudo-academics from endorsing racially exclusionary tactics that openly disadvantaged me.
This brings me to Lily. When the caseworkers offered us Lily they said we were selected because we were a good match. I was confused. Does Lily like college football? Has she longed for an older sister? How are we a good match? Surely there are other would-be foster parents in the system who would love a newborn baby, and they were probably already certified. We, on the other hand, had not done anything but fingerprints and still needed a home inspection (which is not up to code--a fence around our pond will be installed later today) and 12 hours of "training". Why did we get Lily? The answer surprised me - because we're white.
Apparently, there are lots of Mexican-American foster families but not many white families, and we were the only white folks (working with this particular agency) who could take in an infant right now. If we were not available they would have placed her with a Mexican-American family (in fact, the emergency foster home she briefly stayed with only spoke Spanish), but since were were available we jumped to the top of the list. Of course, this works both ways. They have very few white children--most are Mexican American--and so most of the time we'll be at the bottom of the list. It just happened that the caseworker's efforts to match race benefited us this time; most of the time it will be a disadvantage.
So, Allan Johnson, I have now seen a privilege that whiteness brings; however, don't be so foolish to think it whiteness brings only positive affects. I can still point to more discriminatory experiences based on my racial designation. Indeed, I can remember store clerks following me and I know what its like to be the odd man out, and to suffer an employment blockade because of my skin color. Perhaps one day we will actually achieve a "post-racial" American, but I don't know when.
