On Being Kickass: Or, Why I Decided To Embrace What I Deserve

I am a straight, white, upper-middle class American woman. I reek of privilege. But it is a privilege that I was relatively unaware of growing up.  I come from a small Midwestern town where everyone is white and of generally the same socio-economical status.  Sure, I remember when my family was lower middle class and middle middle class, the days when we didn't buy it if it wasn't on clearance and only if we really needed it, but I was never really conscious of any of difference between me and my classmates, even if they were from a slightly higher or slightly lower economic situation.  Perhaps I was just naive or completely out of touch with reality.  I was, most definitely, an arrogant ass who knew she was smarter than everyone.  That part definitely didn't win me many friends.

I was exposed to more diversity in college, but I still didn't really grasp my privilege.  I struggled in the beginning, feeling like an impostor.  I distinctly remember calling home and telling my parents I was the dumb kid in the honors dorm.  But that only lasted a semester or so, and then I started receiving attention from my professors, who encouraged me to further my studies and go into academia.  I was still pretty arrogant, still thought I was something special -- and that was because of me, not because of some luck of the draw.

I was humbled a bit in seminary.  Part of that whole studying to be more like Jesus thing.  I started to understand that I am privileged but still didn't really get it.  I was still the smart one, still special.  

Then I moved to Berkeley, to PSR.  I have written in the past about the challenges I had when I first moved here, and not just the struggles I have had no longer being the best of the best.  It was such a culture shock -- like Dorothy, I was definitely aware that I wasn't in Ohio anymore.  This straight white girl was rather out of place, that's for sure.  I was quickly educated not only on queer culture but also on privilege and particularly the white privilege which is innately mine as a result of my birth and through no actions of my own.  This concept of white privilege is something with which I have really struggled over the past year, year and a half.  I have been made very much aware of what this privilege really entails, and on top of the "normal" white privilege, I am also gifted and privileged with parents who truly support my academic endeavors, not only emotionally but also financially.  The financial support has decreased over the years, sure, but I have definitely been able to focus more exclusively on my studies and not have to worry so much about funding my education.  As a "professional student" that is a huge privilege!

This struggling all came to a head in December.  In a previous post, I spoke of this amazing opportunity with which I had been presented but how it would impact a different opportunity that I was hoping to have.  At that point, I wasn't able to announce what was going on, but many of you now know what happened:  Out of nowhere, I was approached and asked if I would be interested in teaching the introductory Greek sequence next school year (2014-2015).  Obviously, it was a huge honor to be considered and when they decided they wanted to move forward with me as the instructor, I was ecstatic.  The only problem was that I had already applied for a teaching fellowship to teach Psalms and Spirituality in Fall 2014.  After talking it over with my parents and my mentors, I decided to accept the position teaching Greek and just assumed my application for the Psalms course was essentially tossed out.  Imagine my surprise, then, when a few weeks later I received an email stating that I had been awarded the teaching fellowship for the Psalms course. 

I was thrilled, over the moon, feeling beyond validated for all my hard work.  And then I was brought back to earth when it was suggested that it was not fair for me to accept both positions, that more students should be given these opportunities.  I was once again smacked upside the head with my white privilege.  Would I have received these offers if I was a minority?  Would I have been as equally qualified for them if I was a minority? (by which I mean, would I have had the same access to education, etc. that I have had as a white person?)  I ultimately decided to accept both positions.  It was probably the hardest decision of my life.  So many tears, so many conversations, so many pro and con lists.  I considered not only what was best for me but also what was best for the GTU.  I talked to my mentor, who was my sponsor for my application (and who would likely have to teach the course if I did not).  I talked to my mentor from seminary, who told me I should never feel guilty about achievements with which the GTU recognizes me.  I talked to my parents, especially my dad, who is a manager and has a business mind.  My dad was adamant that I wasn't given these teaching positions but rather that I earned these positions, and he likened it to when one of his employees receives a raise.  He doesn't hand out raises because that is what he is supposed to do but because the employee deserves it.  Thus, my dad argued that I wasn't robbing another student of an opportunity to which they were entitled but rather that I earned these positions through all my hard work.  Those from the PSR community with whom I talked over my options and what I should do were likewise very supportive.  I was told by more than one PSR student, "You are blessed to be a blessing." "God is giving you a double blessing so you can bless others."  A (female) student asked if the fact that I was offered both positions would have even been an issue if I was male instead of female.  And I have been told in the past (by a straight white man with more privilege than me) that I have been essentially coddled because I am a woman and therefore a minority in scholarship -- in other words, that I have been given unfair advantages because of my gender, beyond my white privilege.

So in the end, I decided to embrace what I deserve, to acknowledge that I am kickass.  Perhaps I have been unduly blessed, but that does not mean that I need to reject it but rather that I should share it.  Yes, I reek of privilege, and yes, I need to be aware of it and try to disseminate it, but I also shouldn't let that privilege get in the way of me embracing what I have earned.  Yes, I have had help along the way, but I have also worked hard and I am qualified for these teaching positions.  Yes, I reek of privilege, but I am not resting on its laurels.  I did nothing to deserve my privilege, but I also did nothing to receive it.  And if I thought my decision to accept the teaching fellowship was denying someone else who was equally qualified from receiving a fellowship, then I probably would have made a different decision.  Being a strong, white (straight) female in academia isn't easy.  It automatically makes me a bitch, an arrogant ass who should be put in her place. 

I am kickass. I deserve to be treated with respect.  I deserve to be taken seriously.  I deserve to receive the same love, kindness and compassion I show others.  I am kickass, not because of my white privilege, but because I am a smart, thoughtful, hard-working, loving person in spite of it.