People talk a lot about the power of positive thinking, and it does indeed have its benefits. I, however, often think I have gotten more mileage out of the power of negative thinking. 474 more words
I had intended to reblog this last weekend but was interrupted by a power outage and then (yay fibro brain!) kept forgetting to go back to it. Thank the gods, my daughter and her boyfriend got through the march safely, and I'm proud of her for going. Jo neglected to mention (I think?), but my daughter is of mixed race, and this is one reason why my own privilege is often invisible to me. While she was growing up, I lived in one of the most racially divided cities in the US (Philadelphia), and was married to a black man, her father. So I became used to being "othered" right along with them--treated more or less as though I too were black (at least when in their company). Even beyond that, my adoptive father was black, and I only found out I was adopted at the age of 18 (he was light-skinned, but even so, yes, I know it should have been obvious; I was a kid, what can I say?) So growing up, I didn't think of myself as "white," per se, despite the white face I saw in the mirror. But the fact that my privilege has remained largely invisible to me for most of my life doesn't mean it isn't there, or that it doesn't need to be examined. When I found out that I was adopted I also learned that I most likely have English and Scandinavian heritage through my birth parents. Am I proud of that? Hell, yeah. And I don't think being proud of it is wrong. However, any kind of cultural pride on the part of white people like myself needs to be handled with extreme sensitivity, recognizing that yes, we DO bear responsibility for the deeds of our ancestors, just as we bear their genes.