Topic: "The Illusion of Privilege" by Christopher Harris
Anonymous A started this discussion 5 years ago#100,530
There was a time in my life when I never really realized what true suffrage was. There was a time when you could say I was the most privileged person on the entire planet. I'm not talking about white privilege since that would be a privilege that should only really be checked once like a permanent check mark on a permanent record. I'm not white, but I will not disclose my race or ethnicity as I do not feel these are important aspects of my character. I know those who may read this memoir maybe asking themselves why I felt privileged when non-white individuals still have it so rough in today's social environment. To them I encourage them to continue reading until the very end. The illusion of privilege I had was merely that... an illusion.
My childhood was a pleasant one. I grew up in a poor broken family consisting of a mother who worked her ass off after my father passed away from chronic heart failure, an older sister who always had my best interest at heart, and a far older brother who always on occasion teased my sister and me. We never had much, but the one thing we did have was a strong family bond. My mother always did her best to ensure that Christmas celebrations didn't carry the toll that every other day carried. My sister was still able to acquire makeup and beauty products. My brother was still able to pursue his hobbies. I was able to play with my toys. We had everything or so it seemed. It was hard as a child to realize how good I had it especially when there was still food on my plate. Having my mother working to keep that false sense of security lead me to believe that we were spoiled.
Our lives changed for the worse. It was like any normal day. My mother came home with a paper bag of groceries in her arms as she struggled to balance the weight while closing the door. She set the bag down on the kitchen counter and immediately turned on the news as she usually did when she returned home. This was an experience that I wish I had never walked in on, but through reflection I'm glad I did. There were news reports about a police officer who shot and killed a man. The man looked like us. My mother immediately started to weep. I asked as an innocent child would why she was crying and she would look down at me with a smile before she bent down to my eye level. She told me, "Son, the hard truth of the world is that you're going to struggle in life and unfortunately, there's nothing you can really do about that." She then proceeded to tell me that I should build my skills so that some day I could be financially stable enough to afford a quality life. That my struggles will be because of ignorance an because of people hating me for something I had no say in. That was the last day I'd ever see my mother.
The rioting began immediately after the footage was made public. I didn't know how our neighborhood was handling the news as my mother grabbed me by the hand and told my brother and sister to meet her in her bedroom. She told us to always keep our sibling bond strong for family is what made us who we are and to always protect one another. She started boarding up the windows should the riots come close. That night was an eerie night with almost little sleep and I remember resting my head on my brother's shoulders as we all curled up together to watch the local news on my mother's television. We would awake in the morning to find mother gone as she still needed to work in order to provide for us. My sister was glued to the 24 hour news networks covering the rioting. I would never forget her scream of horror as she called for us. There on the screen we saw the report of a woman of color who was assaulted by the police for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They thought she was rioting when in reality she was an innocent bystander. We knew that was the moment our lives changed. That we would were orphans and because we were orphans we knew we had to have respect for one another since our family bond is what was going to pull us through the difficult times that were to come.
While it will be easy for me to write about the upcoming struggles like our time being homeless, my sister almost being sexually assaulted, my brother almost losing custody of us, or myself almost being kidnapped. This story already deserves a happy ending. It is with great pleasure to write that we are all in a far better place now. My brother ended up with a profession that was tailored made for him due to his hobbies. My sister married a rich man who takes care of her as if she were a princess. As for me, I'm not living in the streets anymore but I do rent a small studio apartment in the city. I am a journalist for a major news publishing company. Yes, I used to believe that I was privileged, but now I see that my privilege was only an illusion.