As a Jew, I personally don’t identify as “white.” Despite that, I am aware that 1) pretty much everybody I encounter will understandably -- and not necessarily incorrectly -- label me as such; and 2) I still benefit from the vast majority of the privileges associated with whiteness. Given all that is going on* recently, I feel conflicted about where I fit in with the struggle for equality. I’ve always better understood myself and the situations around me through the exploration of writing, so I am turning to these words to help me learn, and hopefully to share something about myself and my communities in a way that will resonate with others.
Questioning where I fit in
I read many articles about “white allies,” and comments about “checking [my] privilege.” It makes me question whether I am acting as an ally, simply because I have some privilege. Or, am I acting in my own community's self interest, as we are among the most targeted victims of hate crimes. If I am an ally for this push toward justice and equality for all, to whom do I reach out when I feel the need for allies in my experience as a Jew, who is marginalized in many ways, and still hated and blamed by the very same people against whom I am fighting, as an ally?
I am driver, passenger and pedestrian at the intersection. Can I simultaneously be an ally, while asking for help from allies?
Checking my privilege
Privilege comes in many forms, both in terms of historic ability to amass and retain wealth, implicit and explicit biases, networking connections, and so many more. There is also, I believe, another level of privilege; that of knowing you belong and that something (whatever it is) is for you.
How I have white privilege
I’m a cisgender male of Eastern European descent, who is heterosexual, and physically able. When people look at me, they can see/quickly determine most of that, and make “positive” assumptions (or don’t make “negative” ones) based on the image they see. I do not often seem to be feared by people I encounter, I am not often followed or treated as though I’m suspicious. My name is recognizable and fairly easy to pronounce. Typically, when I speak politely I’m given the benefit of the doubt when there are mix-ups and misunderstandings with a bill, reservation, customer service issue, traffic violation, etc. (I understand that being polite is important, but I also know that my politeness follows assumptions made about me that are validated by my politeness. I’ve witnessed politeness not be enough when other assumptions have been made.) And, this all applies to the four generations of my family who have lived in America since escaping the pogroms of Europe in the early 20th century.
How I do not have White Privilege
The lack of privilege I experience is primarily internal, because I do have the benefit of looking like I’m “entitled to privilege.” It comes from knowing that I don’t belong with those in power who advance oppression. My people make up less than 1% of the world’s population, and there is only one place on Earth -- a country approximately the size of Delaware -- in which my race is a majority. And, it’s a country that is often targeted as being an oppressor.
Throughout history, White people have tried to kill my people. Skipping past biblical times, there are the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, the pogroms of Russia and eastern Europe, and the Holocaust. Today, there is the KKK, Neo Nazis, the Alt-Right, and the Breitbart editorial staff.
Less dramatically, but still traumatically, there is a diminishing of value of me and my people. We are told that “this is a Christian country,” even though the First Amendment ensures it is not. Events of importance are scheduled on our holy days, such as the March for Racial Justice, or college finals. I have lost two jobs due to my Judaism; one because I wouldn’t tolerate working with somebody who was making public anti-semitic remarks, and another when I wouldn’t work on Rosh Hashanah at a restaurant that closes for Christmas and Easter.
Putting privilege together
Regardless of where I fall on a scale of privilege, and the extent to which it is influenced by my Jewishness and my Whiteness is, ultimately, irrelevant. What matters -- at least to me -- is that I do recognize where I’ve had it easy, and where I’ve had it not so easy. I try to leverage my access to privilege in ways that are benefited by my people’s experience as victims of hatred. I try to keep my privilege in check, while also respecting my own personal accomplishments and success.
I try to instill in my son the belief and understanding that come with this. Empathy. Compassion. Persistence. A sense of justice. Knowledge that justice isn’t for just us. Responsibility. Courage.
Where I go from here
To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. It took me far longer than expected to work through this piece. As I’m writing this conclusion, I realize I haven't actually answered any questions, but I do understand myself better. I hope that this has given you some insight into me and understanding of Jews as partners in plight, more than allies. I further hope that the insight is applicable to you and others you know. Mostly, I hope it inspires questions, dialogue, and collaborative movement. We’re living through a difficult time… so much access and chatter, but not enough action and understanding.
Don’t be quick to assume you know somebody’s experience by looking at them. Don’t be harsh on yourself because you have privilege. Don’t be easy on yourself because you don’t. We all must do the work to understand ourselves and our needs, and then to work with one another to share the effort toward a common goal.
As a friend of mine often posts… “the beloved community.” Let’s all march toward that community, and live there, together.
