Privilege and Obligation

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be privileged. My roommate and I brainstormed a couple of definitions—privilege as opportunity, privilege as an advantage, etc.

My definition of the term is a narrow one. In the past I’ve characterized privilege as an advantage that one doesn’t work for...an inherited advantage? Or a benefit that one encounters by chance? In honesty, I’ve always associated the term to wealth: “X is from a privileged background.” Meaning X was born into a wealthy family—something they had no control of—and now they have some sort of advantage because of that status. They are privileged.

This (perhaps shallow) use of the term makes it difficult for me to understand the supposed obligation that we have as privileged university students. I found a NY Times article, written in 1917 by the president of Oberlin College, titled “Higher Education as a Privileged Interest: The Obligation of the Privileged as Applied to the Moral Life of our Colleges and University.” In the last line Dr. King states: “Higher education, just because it is higher education and is thereby a highly privileged interest, owes to the community a great moral service.” This ‘privilege → obligation’ sentiment has surfaced at various points throughout my Stanford career.

I don’t see the connection between privilege and obligation. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great if privileged people help less privileged people. However, I don’t see it as a moral obligation. At first I thought that my inability to see the connection stemmed from my narrow definition of privilege. I couldn’t get past step 1...accepting that a higher education is a privilege. But now that I’ve broadened my scope of the term’s implications, I still fail to see the connection.

If you’re someone who has an advantage or a benefit...for whatever reason—inherited or earned, why should you feel obliged to give/help/support others? Privilege is such a nuanced concept. I guess I’m still not completely understanding its meaning??? I might be privileged to be at a prestigious university, but isn’t my male peer more privileged for being a Stanford student who also lives in a male-dominant world? Is he therefore more obliged to help?

Privilege is a nuanced term because of its subjectivity. It’s not logical to bestow obligation. I might agree that all of us, as human beings, have a moral obligation to help each other. But it's illogical to make a distinction or to say that because we’re in a position of privilege we have an obligation to do something.

That being said, for those participating in service learning, they shouldn’t feel that they HAVE to give back because of their privileged background. They should want to give back, despite their background.

dance dance

I want to do a typical ‘recap of my day’ post. Yesterday was just too amazing of a day to forget.

Yesterday we went to Mzoli’s Meat, a butchery in the township of Gugulethu. The place is a meat-lovers paradise! Step number 1, choose your raw meat: beef, chicken, sausage, etc. Step 2, pay and take the plate over to have it cooked. Step 3, wait for about an hour, pick it up, and enjoy! Four of us shared some sausage, beef and pork. But what made it truly perfect was the beer. Meat and beer on a beautiful Saturday, what more could you ask for?

It’s hard to describe the location. Hopefully I can post some pictures soon. But imagine a club—the DJ, the music, the girls with fancy dresses, the dance moves, the alcohol. Next, imagine a cookout—the meat, the laughter, the sunshine, the relaxation. Now combine the two. That’s Mzoli’s.

My favorite part was the dancing. It was great to interact and dance with locals and other foreigners. It didn’t matter how ridiculous you danced, what race you were or what language you spoke. In those couple of hours, no one cared. Everyone (from 60 year old grannies to 10 year old kids) danced to the beats of the house/electronic/hip-hop music. Ooo, and thanks to Nathi I learned some dance moves to take back to the states. Hopefully he’ll be using the bachata moves that I showed him ☺.

For dinner Viria, Alex and I made “fried noodles.” I overcooked the noodles so it ended up being smooshed noodles instead….shmoodles. They were tasty, despite their smooshy texture. Afterward Ken played the guitar while the rest of us sang backstreet boys, Britney spears and outkast songs. Twas great.

Later that night we went to The Waiting Room, on Long Street. The club played amazingly good hip hop—Biggie, Common, Mos Def, J Dilla, Jay-Z. It was a chill place with foreigners and locals. Ended up having a good conversation with a UCT student. The topics? –the makings of a successful leader, the perceptions of foreigners, the history of hip hop in South Africa, and the fun of leaving humility behind.

Good day.

Good Intentions?

South Africans are weary of foreigners. And foreigners, like myself, are EVERYWHERE. We’re in every township—willing to help, ready to engage. But the logical question is ‘why?’. Did I come to Cape Town with some opulent philanthropic objective? I’ve tried to be genuine with myself from the very beginning. I’m here to learn. I’m here to grow. But the only trace of altruism, I think, stems from a desire to someday use my South African-acquired knowledge to help people. But not even that is a guarantee.

I suppose I’m just as weary of myself—my actions and motives—as South Africans. I’m hopeful that through my service-learning, through what seems to be a selfish journey, I’ll help people along the way. But there are two problems with that logic. 1) there’s no assurance of that and more importantly 2) shouldn’t it be the other way around? Or shouldn’t my ONLY goal be to help?

The truth is that I don’t want to be naïve or pretentious. But I’m realizing that I’m letting this fear control me. I need to find that balance, a balance suggested by a quote in one of our readings: “Never be so heavenly minded that you’re no earthly good.” It’s a matter of being passionate and resolute about my good intentions as well as measured and realistic.

So all BS aside, what are my true intentions? I want to help—in the short and long term. I want to immerse myself in the Nyanga community and be of some assistance. Is this desire paternalistic? I don’t think so. It’s all in the approach. Service-learning involves two consensual agents. Nyanga has kindly opened its doors to me. Now it is my turn to become a knowledgeable and conscientious volunteer. Ideally, I’ll be able to contribute skills, perspectives and knowledge that I’ve acquired from previous experiences. In other words, I want to provide more than physical labor. I think I have more to offer. I know I have more to offer.

I want to learn. I want to learn about Nyanga, about my identity, about my interactions with others, about NGO’s, about South Africa…..I want to learn everything. And I want these experiences and knowledge to guide my academic, emotional and personal path. I want to put this knowledge to use—to make something out of this study abroad program.

Now I need to figure out what Nyanga and Shawco want. Hopefully there’s an overlap. If not, we’ll negotiate.

On Race

I had my first class this morning, Race and Labor in South Africa: A Historical Perspective. This class focused on introducing us to the basics of race, labor, politics and power dynamics.

Something that the professor said really struck me; as American students in South Africa, we’re “representing whiteness.” It’s strange, I was deeply upset by the comment. When she said that I though, but I’m not white, I’m not here to represent whiteness.

What does “whiteness” mean? Obviously it’s not just about color. There’s something about my position, my circumstance, that places me in a position of privilege. Is whiteness privilege? Whiteness, I think, encapsulates a historical, political and social context. I just never considered myself part of that context.

To go from being a working-class minority to a person of privilege is a difficult concept to grapple with. Does my identity change based on my location? Somehow I’ve become the majority. Somehow I’m being associated, though loosely, with the oppressor. I haven’t fully grasped why, but there’s a deep unsettling feeling about all of this. My identity has always been an issue. Here, in a country that still suffers from apartheid, my identity issues are magnified.

This is all so frustrating. These categories are socially engineered. We’re the creators, we’re the ones in control. I’m the one in control. And so the only thing I can say to myself is that I’m not here to represent whiteness, minorities, women, or whatever. I’m here to learn, grow and hopefully help. As an individual, I bring forth a series of experiences and perspectives. These, without a doubt, have been shaped by my race. But now, as a representation of nothing else but Adriana, I have full control of what this means and what I’ll become.