On the Limitations of Privilege as Pedagogy

Before I start, I want to make clear that I’ve written this blog from the perspective of a white practitioner doing anti-racism work, hoping to offer some helpful reflections on the use of privilege in the classroom to fellow white practitioners or white learners seeking to deepen their anti-racism work. Anybody can read this, of course, but I want to be clear about the intent behind my writing. I also acknowledge my limitations as a white person doing this work and the fact that my intersecting identities-- being fat, queer, latinx, and invisibly disabled-- are still shaped by my presence in the world as a white, cis, and college-educated woman.

Clearing misconceptions

I’ve been encountering a lot of folks that share the misconception that the acknowledgement of privilege, or individual biases for that matter, is the ultimate outcome of anti-racism and Inclusion, Diversity, Equity & Accessibility (IDEAs) work. On the contrary, it’s the very beginning of building your skills in perspective-taking, empathy, and transforming power-over to power-with and power-to.

Privilege is the experience that lives in the absence of oppression, so when we focus on all of our advantages, we are left woefully unequipped to answer the question “how do we actually combat oppression and center issues regarding anti-Blackness through owning privilege?” I’m left wondering if owning privilege is even a necessary step to seeing the behavior change needed in white people to dismantle oppression. I understand that it’s important to give folks a framework for beginning to notice how systemic racism exists in the institutions and cultures of which they are a part. I am simply questioning whether or not privilege is the best framework to do that.

On pushing the limits of comfort

Most of the learners I encounter get very uncomfortable when the topic of privilege is brought up. I often observe that grappling with whiteness or privilege in all its forms (heterosexual, gender, cisgender, able-bodied, etc.) can often be cut short because of the fear that comes up when learners are confronted with the need to own one’s complicity (or ancestors’ complicity) in white supremacy or any other type of hegemonic group.

It’s a super fraught subject that brings up feelings of pain and anger for people who have felt the trauma of being a part of an oppressed group, and it almost always brings up feelings of guilt and shame for those who have a lot of privilege, or who are complicit in white supremacy, cisheteropatriarchy, able-bodied supremacy, etc.

Where do we begin?

My job is to create psychologically safe spaces to explore these growth edges, but my job is certainly not to make you comfortable. I constantly remind my clients of this, because to a huge extent, they have hired me to hold them accountable, and to push them past their comfort zones. Usually the first response I see, particularly with white learners, ranges from “Wait, I’m not a part of white supremacy because I have privilege!” to “Is someone experiencing disadvantages in society because I have privileges or advantages that I did not earn?”

Acknowledging the ways in which you are privileged or are benefitting from your whiteness is just the beginning, not the end. It’s an opening, an opportunity to renegotiate your relationship to whiteness, to center how you unconsciously or consciously participate in anti-Blackness, to analyze the ways in which you can relinquish your power to dismantle oppression, and to heal the parts of you that come from generations of unearned advantages.

While it’s important to validate and affirm feelings of guilt and shame that can come with acknowledging white privilege in order to move into the more productive part of changing behaviors/attitudes/beliefs, I see that what often gets lost in these conversations is the experiences of people who are Black, Indigenous, and people who suffer under racialized systems oppression.

As Arielle Iniko Newton (2017) points out, privilege doesn’t center “systemic failure,” but instead “suggests that changing [individual behaviors] is a sufficient way to dismantle oppression,” which is not sustainable long-term. She goes on to say that depending on this concept of privilege, what becomes problematic is centering whiteness as “a necessary factor in our liberation" (par. 7).

Privilege eclipses the importance of oppression as a "method for reckoning with ourselves and those who are non-Black" (Newton, 2017, par. 13). Understanding Newton's point of view illuminates how privilege positions white action as a contingency for Black Liberation. As she concludes, it's not white privilege that is responsible for systemic racism, it's white supremacy (par. 15).

It’s no wonder that, in conversations about privilege, people who identify as Black, Indigenous, and people who experience racialization, often ask “Where does that leave me? I just have to wait until white people realize the power and privileges they need to relinquish for my liberation?” It also leaves white folks asking, “So I have all these privileges, now what?”

There is no action without reckoning

Similar to the limitations of the concept of white fragility, the pedagogy of white privilege seems to breed its own inaction, suspended by the belief that if we simply do some reckoning, we’ll create real change. I think we have to focus on behavior, the effects of which are earned. The benefits of whiteness and any other sort of privilege are unearned-- you simply are born with them.

However, the new ways we become more effective allies by relinquishing our power and our privilege are earned. The ways we successfully intervene in and reckon with our biases are earned. Working to undo generations worth of oppression and stop the silent acceptance of privilege takes real, concerted action and effort over time.

As George Lipsitz says in his book The Possessive Investment in Whiteness : How White People Profit from Identity Politics (2018) “individual action [must] be coordinated with a collective social movement and carefully thought-out strategies and tactics produced by a democratic process that changes individuals and society at the same time” (xv).

It’s so much more powerful to engage in this critical reflection about the strategies and movements we can bolster with our allyship, instead of simply “sitting” with the reality of our privilege.

While owning privilege is one means to an end, I do think the process of this reckoning is important to giving up power and centering the liberation of people who experience racialized oppression. I think of bell hooks in Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom, where she says:

“There are times when personal experience keeps us from reaching the mountain top and so we let it go because the weight of it is too heavy. And sometimes the mountain top is difficult to reach with all our resources, factual and confessional, so we are just there, collectively grasping, feeling the limitations of knowledge, longing together, yearning for a way to reach that highest point. Even this yearning is a way to know.”

That’s how I see the pedagogy of privilege-- this moment where we are “feeling the limitations of knowledge” in this “collective grasping” for how we can possibly reach outside of our experience to understand and actively support people experiencing racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, etc. Focusing on the behaviors required building empathy, vulnerability, and perspective-taking is a softer place to land for action. Sure, we can acknowledge the myriad of ways we might benefit from institutionalized oppression, but what actually compels people to act to change that?

As Nicholls (2011) points out, acknowledging one’s position as an oppressor “does not necessarily lead to solidarity with the oppressed,” but instead, “one is in solidarity when [they] stop regarding the oppressed as an abstract category” and see them as whole people who have had to fight against systems built for their destruction over the course of hundreds of years (p.15).

The work truly begins when we can finally begin to understand an experience or pain that is not our own. Learning about our privileges keeps us thinking about ourselves and does not chart a path forward for how to correct the unjust accrual of racial, socio-political, and economic advantages.

Nichols (2011) continues to argue that our ability to empathize depends on our ability to “experience dependency and extreme vulnerability in oneself and others” (p. 30). Dependency and vulnerability are often considered “weaknesses” in American culture (and most patriarchal societies). Before we can fully practice empathy, we need to begin the important work of decoding the subconscious ways we have inherited and ingested those problematic cultural messages that grew out of exploitation, colonization, and capitalism. These cultural assumptions have long promoted the false belief that leaning on each other for support and speaking our truths diminishes our power.

From power-over to power-with

Later in Teaching to Transgress (1994), hooks expressed misgivings about the capacity of people with privilege to “fully confront these oppressive systems” (130-1). This is why it’s so important that conversations about privilege do not eclipse the real conversation beneath-- reckoning with and articulating the impact of interlocking systems of oppression. We have constant examples in this country’s leadership that exemplify white people who are grievously ill-equipped to do this work without causing harm. When I see it working, the one secret ingredient is vulnerability. The vulnerability to say you’re wrong. The vulnerability to say “Here is the power I’m willing to share.”

The shift from power-over to power-with can happen with the realization that power is an infinite source that must be redistributed to correct the centuries-old perpetuation of systemic racism. When we are vulnerable through this process, or hold the space for the vulnerabilities of others, our capacity for empathy is enhanced. It also creates rich soil for power-sharing and collaborative action which feed our abilities to create more equitable structures and cultures that uphold all lived experiences as true, valid, and worthy of social advantages.

I know that sometimes we, as white practitioners or white learners, may feel overwhelmed by the truth of how our whiteness, and the systems created with the image of whiteness in mind, have propelled us and our ancestors. There is a vulnerability to be cultivated in this space of pain and guilt when acknowledging our unearned advantages. This vulnerability and humility can enhance our capacity to honor other peoples’ truths as just as valid as our own. Knowing our limitations is the starting point for doing this work with intention.

A word about unearned privilege

As I noted at the beginning of this blog, I am very aware of my limitations as a white practitioner doing anti-racism and IDEAs work. As hooks (1994) argues, there is always a risk that my very presence in the space might “perpetuate existing structures,” a risk I am critically aware of and cautious about (130-1). I know I have unearned privileges in the IDEAs space-- whether it’s the network I have access to because of my graduate education, the educational support I received growing up, or simply the privilege of moving about in the world as a white woman.

This feels vulnerable to admit, and instead of letting it hinder my desire to be a part of real change in this field, I focus on getting better at learning, stepping back from projects that would be better-led facilitators who identify as Black, Indigenous, and people of color, etc. My focus lies in cultivating that humility to deeply and actively listen (not respond) when I’m being “called in” and to make space for other voices to be heard.

When clients or participants in my workshops call me in, I immediately have insight into their experience. It opens up a portal to deeper understanding, and deeper humility. To act in service of and in reverence of other truths that are not our own is key.

I use this example because I think it’s helpful to see how vulnerability and a sense of ownership are a behavioral building blocks for enhancing cultural humility, empathy and perspective-taking.

When privilege is the locus of anti-racist learning conversations, we risk perpetuating inaction, and worse, we continue to make white action the center of dismantling anti-Blackness, as Newton pointed out earlier. We must be aware of this risk. And this awareness requires humility, and the ability to acknowledge when we’re wrong.

Whether or not white folks can be effective in this work (a topic I’m sure could fill the space of an entirely separate blog), and whether or not the pedagogy of privilege is as constructive as perspective-taking and empathy, not equipping learners with the tools to critically deconstruct the cultural accounts produced by white supremacy is the best way to ensure white folks will continue to uphold racist ideas and institutions.

A roadmap

As you move forward in your journey, here are some muscles you can start (or continue to) flex:

• Cultural Humility: This requires a fundamental posture toward curiosity about different cultures. Knowing your culture is not the only one, and that other cultures and belief systems have just as much validity as your own is crucial to developing cultural humility.

• Together, not alone: We have to break free of the confines of American individualism and realize that this work is not solitary. It requires collaboration and connection with people who don’t think or look like you!

• Decenter Whiteness: Your emotions and experiences are not the only ones in the room. Embracing the spectrum of emotions that come with this work is important, and let’s remember not to put that emotional labor on others. It also requires knowing the importance of first addressing healing within yourself and your own racial group before embarking on interracial healing.

• Practice Inquiry-based (vs. advocacy) Dialogue: Acknowledging someone else’s truth is just as valid as your own is important. Having a conversation that seeks to understand, rather than one that seeks to respond is a great way to open up your listening to hear other peoples’ stories or vantage points.

• Intent vs. Impact: Cultivate humility and have ownership over the dissonance when it occurs so that you can reckon with the impact of your words, regardless of your good intent.

• Allyship with Consent: Always directly engage and ask the community you’re hoping to support a) if they want an ally and/or b) what type of allyship they would invite. If left unchecked, assumptions about whether or not your presence would be helpful can create more harm than good.

• Look at your close friend circle: Whether it’s your school community, your professional network, work colleagues, or even book club-- are there a multitude of voices speaking and being heard? If not, start to notice who you gravitate toward at your next social event, and try to engage with folks who are the exact opposite of you.

• Engage in Productive Conflict: One of the best ways we can learn to accommodate different perspectives is learning to use our conflict styles productively. The first step is to see conflict as a bridge, rather than a divide. Being able to find common ground, even when stakes (or emotions) are high, helps fine-tune our perspective-taking skills.

• Address Relational Dynamics AND Structural Oppression: As we’ve seen from popular criticism of the corporate unconscious bias training, acknowledging individual biases is not the essential skill required for correcting structural and organizational dynamics that contribute to racial (or ableist, heterosexist, transphobic) inequity in the workplace. As an example, you may have improved interracial dynamics amongst colleagues, but if recruiting practices or succession planning continues to fast-track white leaders, the culture will not be safe (not to mention retention will be slashed) for people who do not share the characteristics of the dominant culture.

References:

hooks, bell (1994). Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom. New York: Routledge.

Lipsitz, George (2018). The Possessive Investment in Whiteness : How White People Profit from Identity Politics, Temple University Press. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/gmu/detail.action?docID=5425334.

Newton, Arielle Iniko (2017). “Why ‘privilege’ is counter-productive social justice jargon.” Black Youth Project. Retrieved on 11/16/2021 from http://blackyouthproject.com/privilege-counter-productive-social-justice-jargon/

Nicholls, T. (2011). Pedagogy of the Privileged. The CLR James Journal, 17(1), 10–36. http://www.jstor.org/stable/26758832