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I wish I was White, Female and Privileged for One Day

By Kathy Henry
First of all, before I write this essay, I would like to state that I love being a black woman.  I love the beautiful brownness of my skin, my hair, which is a crown that has anointed me Queen of my universe, my full lips, slanted eyes, and the strength of my ancestors, who have dealt with much adversity during their journeys here to America and whose blood flows proudly in my veins.  But I have to admit, I wonder what it would be like to be a white female, just for a day, to see what it would be like to be considered Aphrodite rising from the sea, because at times it is hard being a black women in a society that is sexist and racist and has placed women who look like me on the fringe of every ladder in American society, from economics to beauty and beyond.White Privilege is a critical race theory I came across in college during an African American history class.  I had to read an article entitled, White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack by Peggy McIntosh and it opened my mind to some concepts I had never thought about before.  According to the article, white privilege can be defined as unearned advantages enjoyed by white people beyond those commonly experienced by people of color in the same social, political, and economic spaces (nation, community, workplace, income, etc.) because they are white.

White privilege is a topic some whites do not want to talk about because in admitting they are privileged, because of their skin color, they would be  admitting that racism still exists and is not a figment of black folks’ imaginations. But I digress.  It must be nice living in a world where almost every image of your kind is thought to be good and pure. I would like some of that privilege just for one day.

Just for once it would be nice to go to a job interview and not have to worry about the texture of my hair and wonder if the person I am interviewing with has a problem with afros, two-strand twists, or any other “black ethnic” hairstyles I might be wearing that day.  If I were a white woman, I could toss my silky, long hair around with no problems.

Just for once, it would be nice not to be labeled an angry, bitter, black female who is filled with hatred just because I happen to have an opinion different from the common consensus.  If I was a white woman, I could be uncompromisingly argumentative and be told that I am merely feisty.  Black men would swim through a river of snot for me and tell me that black women are just too combative to be considered “wifey” material and that is why 40% of African American females remain unmarried.  As a white woman, I would be able to date freely and not be told by my peers to lower my expectations of finding a man on my level or else die a lonely and miserable spinster with five kids with five different fathers.

Just for once, it would be nice to see someone who looks like me, on a regular basis, on the covers of high fashion magazines or  playing the role of the leading lady in movies and television shows. As a black woman, I am constantly scolded by the media and some of my people for being too dark, too nappy, and too fat and told that women who look like me will never be placed on that anointed pedestal as the standard of beauty and loveliness for American society.  If I were a white woman, this problem would be null and void because I would be considered the crème de la crème.

But alas, I am a black woman and that is nothing to shirk at.  The strength and tenacity of black women who can make something, literally, out of nothing is something to be admired rather than scorned, and I am proud to be one.  I actually feel sorry for white women sitting upon that fabled pedestal because it is a lonely tour of duty filled with unrealistic and shallow expectations and most fall swiftly and hard from that same pedestal.  Better to be me with all my flaws, real and imagined, than to be a paragon of impossible beauty and virtue. But I can keep it real; sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a white woman. In my world, black women are called everything but a child of God, and for once it would be nice to be the anointed one.

 

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2 Responses to I wish I was White, Female and Privileged for One Day

  1. adlr Reply

    November 19, 2014 at 10:09 pm

    Wow…great essay. I came home after work and googled “white women pedestal”, after watching a white woman cry at work today because someone snapped at her and refused to do what she asked. I and another lady had to spend 20 minutes calming her down. All the while I was thinking no one would give two shits if it were me crying. And btw if I cried every time someone snapped at me or refused to do what I asked I’d die from dehydration!

    The day before that I was c’ed on an email chain involving a different white woman. In this email the white woman felt comfortable writing, “I am so over you and this place” to the person she was communicating with. We’ve all been there I’m sure, but how many of us can get away with actually publishing it in an email.

    The events of the past week left me wondering why it is these white women so freely share those feelings with any and everyone who will listen. I’m thinking it’s this pedestal. I wouldn’t know anything about that obviously being a black woman. Being snapped at, annoyed and ignored comes with the territory. I suppose now I’m better equipped to deal with negativity, aggression and disapproval than they are but still it’s interesting to watch. And after reading this excellent essay I too am wondering what it might be like to be white, female and privileged for one day.

  2. Mrs. Claus Reply

    December 20, 2014 at 8:00 pm

    The above reply was most certainly written by a white person poing as a black woman. The above reply is too articulate and intelligent for any Negro to have had a hand in writing. Furthermore, this said person indicates “she” has a job and is gainfully employed. NO WAY did an actual Negro write this. Some tree hugging “educated” white liberal with misplaced white guilt penned this.

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