Nelson: Where was my white privilege?
Can someone point out to me anywhere in this humdrum account where I enjoyed “white privilege”? Is there anything I did that couldn't be duplicated or bettered by anyone of any color — not 80 years ago, but since the 1970s?
Written By:
Ross Nelson |
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Given America's collapse into a maelstrom of endless charges of racism, perhaps an anecdotal defense against such is called for. Let me offer a thumbnail autobiographical sketch. It's an unremarkable, even boring story, so I ask the reader's patience. There's a point to it.
Most of my years growing up were without running water. In my early childhood years in rural Glyndon, Minn., we had an old-fashioned hand pump as a water supply. Fortunately it was situated right in the kitchen. That old farmhouse's wiring was thoroughly decrepit and the place burned down about a year after we moved out. No one was living in it at the time.