Power, Privilege, and We.
First: this is not a response to the response to the response. This is about us. And about me. I guess I’m just confused. About us. We. Community. Who we are, what we stand for, what we’re made of, and where we come from. That last one is important. Maybe since I haven’t attended any of these Power & Privilege evens, I am uneducated about how we could, should, think, speak, act, portray, as a collective- how to train your tongue to walk on eggshells as not to offend “the other.” Maybe I have a misconstrued idea about the perceived concept of this “us” at WWC. There are some things most of us can all agree about. Sustainability. Service. Consent. There are some “collective” attributes, yet many of them are stereotypes - things we find ourselves embracing or pushing away from, depending on who we are. Tree Huggers. Tree smokers, or natural healers with crystals and tea. Liberals, protesters- willing to be arrested for convictions we believe. Why is this? Because as much of a collective as we may be, we are all here for, came for, and are working toward different goals. Dorland aside, there is no Warren Wilson “mold.”
More importantly, who are you to say that I am privileged? And where is all this power coming from- the tips of my fingers? Am I privileged because I have perceived wealth, or am white- oh wait…let me just roll up my sleeve here and check my wallet… Hmm that guy looks poor- but how would I know, we all get our crap from the free store. Maybe they aren’t so bad. Maybe I’m here on aid handed to me by “The Privileged.” And maybe I’m glad they’re flashing their money around- long as I cross that graduation stage, I care less whether it came from Obama or your mama. And here’s one more- maybe I like to look nice or like to look dirty. Or maybe back at my home, “Thug Life” is what every little girl and boy want to look like- because that’s the main representation they’ve been shown of powerful, privileged, AMERICA. Maybe I wear...