When I ask friends about campus issues, I immediately am told that people have grown tired of the incessant debate concerning segregation and the government shutdown, and I tend to agree with them. So let’s discuss “privilege” as it relates to the Capstone.
Privileges are special rights, advantages or distinctions granted to individuals of power. Yet, I’ve discovered that Americans, and certainly Alabamians on the UA campus, do not seem to believe they exist. When the topic is broached and those with privilege are identified, an angry denial generally follows in the generic form: “My grandparents came here and built their success from nothing! I’m not granted any special favors.”
Unfortunately, that belief defies reality. For those looking to deny their status, this undeniably means you did not perform any pulling of the metaphorical bootstraps on your own. In fact, you internalized your relatives’ narrative and automatically subsume their work as your own. To end this denial, ask yourself how you ended up on this campus and where you are in relation to other students or those not here at all.
As UA students, we will soon join the 33 percent of Americans who have bachelor’s degrees. Why does this matter? Simply put, diplomas represent more than intellectual efforts; they distinguish a growing professional class with an exclusive set of benefits. Our expected earning potential is higher than those without post-high school degrees. The majority of Americans do not attend college. This is not necessarily negative; however, it becomes so when we only see the world from our fishbowl.
Many of us consider our scholarships, or our parent’s willingness to pay tuition or accrue student loans as examples of our determination to succeed. On the contrary, that constitutes half of the story. I’ll forego detailing why students attending college with their parents’ dollars are privileged as it is self-evident. On the other hand, students on scholarships (as I was myself) need reality checks. Contrary to popular opinion, intelligence is not an innate substance. It is the result of continuous effort in applying our studies and skills.
Although you tested well and received the full red-carpet of scholarships, consider your journey. Your parents likely had college degrees, could tutor you, pay for testing prep and send you to the best schools possible. You had advantages you never thought to question. Now, think about how these small advantages work in larger social settings. How many non-honors students live in suite-style dorms? How many can pay for the privilege of these accommodations? How many students in these dorms have identical backgrounds where each parent had college degrees?
If we take the time to question our surroundings and how we arrived here, it is clear that we have been afforded certain opportunities. Our campus is divided along lines of wealth and social status. To deny privilege is silly, but we can recognize it. We also can all unequivocally argue that many individuals are lazy. In spite of this, we should deconstruct our own privileges before issuing judgment. Did your schools have counselors who read over your college applications? Did your parents know about the different lending and college saving programs? Could they assist you with the application and funding process?
Never assume the student without scholarships did not work as hard as you, or the student whose parents could not afford to send them here are lazy and undisciplined. Instead, question the route you took to college and ask if that road had tolls everyone could pay.
John Speer is a graduate student in secondary education. His column runs weekly on Wednesdays.
