On Privilege

The thing about privilege is that it’s like being a fish in a flowing river. Often, one must be removed from their life’s waters to understand them. As Ralph Waldo Emerson says, “The field cannot be seen from within the field. The astronomer must have his diameter of the Earth’s orbit as a base to fix the parallax of another star.”

In this way, it can often be helpful to take a step back from one’s life and observe it for what it is. This is to live an examined life. We can, after all, be too close to something to perceive it clearly. The fish cannot know the field the river runs through—let alone the mountains, sky, and stars—unless it is deliberately removed and shown them.

It is in the act of stepping back that we can begin to see how very privileged—lucky—we are. For one, there is a one-in-200-trillion chance that we are even here at all. We are also made of stardust. The chance that we actually exist is infinitesimally little. We are exceptionally small in the grand scheme of the universal ebb and flow. This greater perspective—an exercise in self-awareness—allows us to perceive our own lives from an elevated vantage.

After all, the fish may never truly appreciate the river until the angler removes it from its habitat. Imagine living one’s whole life thinking we know it all, only to be jolted from our comfort zone—shaken to the core. It is only then that we can begin to question all of our previously held beliefs, and perhaps start to appreciate and comprehend our privilege.