My Personal White Privilege and How I Use It All the Time!

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By E. L. Alexander

I had a fight with my partner the other day. I drove off for some time to myself, crying and needing some time. I noticed a state patrol officer (Washington) driving in front of me on the freeway—he was slowing, and I suspected he was going to follow me. Not sure why. I slowed as he did, so he pulled over and subsequently followed me and his lights went off.

Mind you, I was unhappy, because of the fight with my partner. When the “Stater” asked me for my insurance, I found that, in my tearful state, I could not locate it in the fulsome amount of absolute nothingness of paper in that glove compartment. I looked at the Stater and told him I did not have my reading glasses, had just had a fight with my partner and could not see which of the papers was my insurance.

The Stater looked at me, crying with my hands in the air and absolutely unable to find the paper, and said— “it’s ok, just make sure you get it ready for the car next time.” I knew, at that at exact moment—I had just gotten out of a ticket. I also knew, that I was white, I looked “real” and I talked white. What do I mean by that? I used common, understood white people tropes of confusion and frustration that felt “real” to that cop. I was a confused, albeit lesbian, “wife” who was exasperated by her spouse on a “mad” drive without the proper documents. To this white cop I imagine he thought— “anyone could have done that.”

So, he understood, in his heart, that I was probably ok in his book—so my privilege won the moment. I was a white woman who had a white woman moment. I wonder I had been black, equally as frustrated and angry, what he might have done without my proper paperwork? I can see him getting angrier—me getting frustrated and falling apart—to which he would see personal aggression and take more aggressive action—even arresting me. Because the car paperwork also was not in my name—only in my partner’s name. He might have even suspected I had stolen the car—since the address on my driver’s license and the address for the car paperwork was in our current one.

Yesterday I went to Seattle for a medical appointment. I stopped by the QFC grocery store in Rainer Valley to pick up some veggies, as I was headed to my friend’s house to make her dinner. Tonight, the city was clogged when I entered, because the interstate had been shut down. Why do you ask? People were protesting for Black Lives Matter, re-George Floyd’s choking death by a Minneapolis Police officer recently. As well yesterday, we finally found out, the 4 cops involved are all going to be charged—one of them with second degree murder, and the other three, with accessory charges.

When I stopped in QFC, however far from the actual protest I was, I discovered several things really stark. When this QFC had been installed in a very poor and black neighborhood, I was thrilled—I loved the new investment in the community in which I had lived for many years. I was one of the few white people to live in my public housing area when my kid was young.

However, this store, which had been wonderful when I lived there, was now very dingy. The floors have never been cared for and the bathroom was very dingy and horrid. Now this is the time for Covid-19. I have been living in Olympia, and the stores are very careful to clean and have sanitizing materials at the entrance. This store had nothing. Seattle is more at risk and still in phase one of the Covid-19 response in Washington State. It occurred to me that this is one of the reasons POC are more highly affected by the virus. No one seems to care as much for them in the core areas of POC communities. But they are certainly happy to take advantage and make the same profit in that dingy store.

As I checked out—I said to the cashier, “When was the last time this place was remodeled?” She said she had no idea it had ever been. I looked at her, and said, sarcastically, “I wonder why that is, don’t you?” and she looked at me knowingly and nodded. This woman was white, by the way. But she understood. QFC stores are usually in always in great immaculate shape. This one wasn’t—and it is racism that is involved in this problem. As I exited, I saw there were THREE cops stationed at the entry/exit point. I understand this was also the night of massive protests in Seattle regarding the racism involving the George Floyd murder, and there was also the shutdown of I-5 because of the protesters. However, 3 cops at a grocery store? I felt intimidated, watched and frightened. I also took a picture of them, but I was afraid they would react negatively. So I didn’t. I wasn’t watched, however as I left—but some were. And they were not white.

When I lived in this neighborhood-I frequently used public services such as the welfare office and I also lived in public housing. I was always able to get to the top of the hierarchy in the government bureaucracies. Once I went to discuss my food stamps—asked to speak to the person in charge—and was welcomed to his office after he found out I was in the same law school of which he graduated. I got a parking ticket and was also let off with a small fine after the court officer also saw I had been to the same law school.

These places of privilege, like law school or other higher education are not as available to people of color, but even if I had been black in this situation, I would not have been given the grace and access or forgiven my faults as well. I use my privilege every day to get away with all kinds of bullshit. But I do NOT use it against People of Color knowingly, and I also stand up for people of color when I see my privilege can be used for their betterment. Let’s work against white privilege in a way that actually makes everyone have the same goddamned privilege white people get so easily in this country.

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