examining my own privilege

In any discussion of white privilege, I think it’s important to recognize that at some point, a lot of us have experienced some kind of privilege. It is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, because it’s often something we cannot control. And privilege doesn’t mean that we haven’t worked for what we got. When we say white people have privilege, we mean that the color of their skin doesn’t get in their way. It means white people start out at an advantage, even when disadvantaged. It doesn’t mean that white people have not experienced adversity, or don’t work hard for what they have. I don’t always recognize my privilege, and I’m not great at being objective about it. I’m often embarrassed by my privilege, or worry that people will think I didn’t earn what I’ve had. So I know how hard it can be to have conversations about privilege. My privilege doesn’t just come in the form of looking white. I grew up comfortably middle class. My grandpa was a surgeon. All of his children went into healthcare. They lived in the same town as us, so when I was growing up he was always around. I saw him practice, saw my mom work as a pharmacist, saw my aunt and uncle become physicians. I went to private school. We were definitely in the poorer group of people who went there, and I grew up thinking I was a lot poorer than I was, but we were comfortable. We took trips, went to camps, had a car when we turned 16, and knew we’d go to college. I worked as a babysitter and always raised my own money to take school trips, but I lived in a nice enough neighborhood that I could solicit. I was able to work in the daycare at school, never had to work in the service industry. I got a scholarship to college and picked a school that was inexpensive enough that I wouldn’t have debt. My grandma bought me a car after I graduated. I was awarded a Fulbright scholarship and able to travel abroad. I didn’t get into medical school right away but I found a job to pass the year. I was able to live at home through med school and my grandpa paid my tuition, so I barely have any debt. My family is well respected in our community. I’m a physician, putting me in a place of power and authority (sometimes) in the hospital hierarchy. I live in a nice house in a safe neighborhood. I have healthcare. I am relatively healthy. I have access to a gym. My husband is supportive of my career and is an equal partner in parenthood. Our daughter came into this world healthy and has remained so. My privilege to me feels like blessings more than anything else. And I suspect that’s how privilege feels to most. I have little control over this privilege, I didn’t ask for it. I recognize though, that each piece of this puzzle is built upon the privilege that comes before it. With privilege comes responsibility. I’m learning now that I need to use my privilege to be an ally for others who don’t have the same privilege. I don’t always do this well. This is where I’m learning the most. I have often said “I probably wouldn’t have gotten into medical school if my grandpa, aunt, and uncle hadn’t been alumni of the school. I had a wonderful application, a lot of heart, and I make a great doctor. I recognize that this may not have been enough. I may have never been accepted, no matter how hard I worked. Knowing the right people helped boost me. I see that, and am grateful for it, and am also shamed by it. It increases my imposter syndrome, I feel like I didn’t do enough, and don’t really belong. That makes it hard to have a conversation about privilege. When you feel shame because of it, and worry that you wouldn’t have been enough without it. Without being able to put those feelings aside, it’s hard to know what to do with my privilege. If I’m so overwhelmed by the feelings of shame, I can’t recognize that I need to use my privilege to help others. My favorite phrase to talk about privilege is “you can’t pull yourself up by your bootstraps if you don’t have boots or straps.” It helps me remember that hard work isn’t the only way to succeed. Many people work so hard and don’t get anywhere because of other circumstances and lack of privilege. I have to not only recognize my privilege, but recognize that others don’t have it. It’s particularly important in healthcare. When I’m giving recommendations, I have to know they are reasonable. How can I ask a patient to take a medicine every day if they don’t have access to a pharmacy, or don’t have a home to keep their medicine? How can I ask them to get on a sleep schedule if I don’t know where they sleep at night? Health disparities happen on a daily basis. Bias in medicine is real. Racism exists. Stating these facts is shameful, yet we can't overcome them and truly set up a system of care that works for everyone if we aren't willing to acknowledge these basic facts I have privilege. I choose to use mine to try to level the playing field for others. What will you do with yours?