On band-aids and new jobs

I think about privilege a lot, but it seems to be in small doses, as I notice something. Privilege, of course, is made up of the things you get in society solely by dint of your skin color, your sex, your gender, your sexuality, your financial situation. John Scalzi wrote a post comparing it to a video game settings, it’s been described as a backpack, there are checklists in case you think it doesn’t pertain to you.

But I mostly notice it in the small things. The bandaid that is exactly the same color as my skin, so no one notices that I’ve hurt myself and asks questions that could be awkward, in different circumstances.

The persistent feeling that if I just got off my ass and redid my resume, renewed my subscription to those job search websites, that I could find a job making half again what I currently do. That thought, that optimism, the feeling that I’m the only one holding me back, that’s privilege. Just because I don’t hit all of them doesn’t mean I don’t benefit from the ones I do.

This is privilege, and it’s insidious.

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