As a white woman who grew up going to private schools, I have always tried to be very cognizant of how obnoxious it is when people like me act entitled. I mean, acting entitled is jacked no matter what, but coming from a white folk, it’s even worse, sort of by definition. I remember going into a bar with my boyfriend circa 1992, and some frat-boy looking type (who probably could have passed for my fraternal twin), came up to my boyfriend – the only person of color in the joint – and asked him to fetch him a chair. I was outraged. Boyfriend took in stride as he said it was par for the course. Okay, maybe that particular incident was wasn’t entitled, it was just racist, but there is a fine line.
Because my kids are also of the white persuasion, we are trying to raise them not to be douchebags, and to teach them that they are not owed anything just because they live a comfortable life. If I cook dinner, I am not also cleaning the pots. You do not deserve a seat on the subway more than anyone else. There is no reason I should be getting you your orange juice when you have legs and arms (some might call getting your kid a drink “maternal” or “taking care of your children’s basic needs” but eff that noise).
While I know I am lucky that because I’m white, cabs always stop for me and that no one follows me around a store thinking I am about to shop-lift, I am still surprised – or more accurately, disturbed – when I see blatant entitlement in action. Incidentally, there is no better example of white entitlement than @PassengerShame (#Passengershaming). You’re welcome.
Anyway, my family was recently out to dinner with two other families. Our kids ranged from 8-11 years-old. The kids were talking amongst themselves; we adults were talking (and drinking) amongst ourselves and all was copacetic. Until a toddler — little white dude – approached our table. He talked about wanting to show his buttock to our kids and was very demanding of their attention. He raced in circles around our table. Our kids – god bless – tried to handle the situation on their own but they eventually – at about the time the toddler pulled up a chair and actually joined our table – asked us for help.
We looked around to identify his parents. No one in the vicinity appeared to be paying any attention to this tot, so we asked him who he was with. He pointed at a couple deep in talk. We looked over at them. They ignored us. As in, their child was at a chair at our table, and they were on a date. Finally, one friend went over and asked the parents if the toddler at our table was theirs. They said yes. And made no move to do anything or, say, apologize for bothering us. They may have even gone back to their conversation….until my friend asked them directly to take their child back to their table. This involved eye-rolling on their part, and is a perfect example of whom I’m striving never to be (that’d be the parents – the kid was too young for my judgment…mostly).
You may be wondering why a blog titled “white entitlement’ is now about everyone but me. Right. So, last Thursday, after losing 3-5 lbs of sweat at my daughter’s 5th grade publishing party (there is no AC in her school; a room mean for 10 people was packed with the 65 kids in the grade and at least one of their parents….You get the picture) and then striving to lose another 3-5 lbs at the gym, I made what I hoped would be a quick stop at the supermarket to purchase 4 items. There were two cashiers open. One was occupied by a man buying at least 6 dozen eggs which he seemed to want to bag personally, and the other had a woman laying a few sad looking vegetables on the conveyor belt. There were two men (Latino) standing a few steps back from the line, but I barely registered them as I rammed/sprinted my way to the cashier (there was an old lady approaching, after all). I stink-eyed the egg guy for taking an inordinate amount of time collecting his belongings (because that was important to do) and got in line behind the vegetable woman.
After I plunked my goods onto the belt, one of the aforementioned men pushed his fleet of water bottles (on the ground in front of him) toward my cashier, thereby tipping me off that he and his friend had actually been in line. As in, I totally disregarded them because I was in a hurry/in a full-body sweat and the egg-man was taking his-sweet ass time. Would I have done so if they were two white dudes? I have no idea. Maybe. Maybe not though. As soon as I realized what I’d done, I apologized and offered to let them go (see, am not a complete asswipe, just sometimes), but as one of them was saying, “No, don’t worry about it,” the other said, “No problem, ladies first.”
As someone who says “you’re welcome” to jaggoffs who don’t bother to say “thank you” when I go out of my way to hold a door for them, it was a good lesson. Not just in how someone like me who truly tries not to be *that guy* ends up being that guy, but in the graciousness of others.
That was going to be the end of this blog but then I discussed this post/topic when I was out to dinner with some friends (all people of color) later that night. This is how that conversation went:
Me: “You guys, I did something entitled and I feel awful about it (I may have even blushed). I’m going to blog about it.”
Them: “That’s good that you’re owning it/being honest about it. What happened?”
Me: Relayed the above.
One of them: And then….Is there more?
Another one of them: You mean you accidentally cut someone in line? And then asked if they wanted to go in front of you?
The third one: That’s not entitlement.
All three together (okay, not really, but kind of): Do you understand what entitlement is?
Apparently I could use a refresher, which may be what some white people’s problem is in the first place (i.e. not knowing wtf). Believe me, I’m not making excuses for the behavior of my people, and I was relieved to hear that I wasn’t *that guy” in the supermarket. But my girlfriends then proceeded to list actual examples of entitlement: White people putting their feet up on desks at work in a way people of color never would or could get away with; an older white person asking a bunch of white people if they were in line for first class (before getting in line behind them) but not asking my (black) friend who was, in fact, also in line for first class; a white woman asking the few white people in an almost empty bar if she could switch the channel to Fox from CNN but not asking my Latina friend and her black husband who were also there…they went on.
I know we all know this stuff happens. And maybe we really need to look no further than boorish, uncontrolled Donald Trump on his third wife with kids by three different women vs. gracious, measured Barack Obama happily married for decades to elucidate the point. Because we all know – even the entitled among us – that the country would not have elected a black version of DT. Ever.
But it shouldn’t have to be so extreme to matter. Our conversation that night was, to me, a good reminder that even someone who thinks of herself as pretty damn aware (that’d be me) can be kind of clueless. So. I say, in this day of being “woke,” there needs to be more dialogue, it needs to be better dialogue, and maybe just talking about this kind of thing with one other will in its own small way make our white brethren a better, less entitled group. Then we can not just *be* woke, but stay so.
underthefalseimpression 