Privilege.
- Megan Hawk
- Oct 3
- 5 min read
I began to understand the concept of privilege when I was 9 years old.
Small town, rural Ohio in the 1990's.
This was a rough time for me personally due to my parents’ divorce and the resulting financial fallout. School wasn’t something I particularly looked forward to, but there were a few people I didn’t mind seeing. Nicole, a friend I’d come to cherish for a lifetime, Tony, a boy my sister babysat, and Anthony, a boy I sat next to in class.
When I met him in elementary school, my young self noticed immediately that Anthony was different from me; it was apparent in the color of his skin, a physical characteristic about which I held no preconceived notions. Anthony was the only Black student in my class. He was quiet and friendly, and I was socially awkward. I sat next to him often; he felt safe.
One day, a five-year-old girl from our neighborhood went missing. She had gone outside to play and never returned. Hundreds of people helped in the search for her, including Anthony and his family, who lived in the same apartment complex. The child, Devan Duniver, was sadly later found dead in the woods.
Anthony found himself interrogated by the police while his mother was unable to hear what was being said.
12 year old Anthony was found guilty of murder.
He was convicted.
Anthony and his lawyers maintained his innocence, saying that police coerced his confession using intimidating interrogation techniques on the twelve year old Anthony while his mother could not hear (Martinez-Raymundo & Pereira, 2024).
Anthony was locked away.
A dead child, and a second young life lost to a system that refuses to look at itself in the mirror.
If my 12 year old self could see this for what it was, then certainly adults should be able to recognize such injustice, too, right? The people in my community also saw this as a reckoning of generational racism and decided to deconstruct this dangerous mindset, right?
Anthony's conviction was overturned in 2020.
2020.
It was a failure that should have been a reckoning.
But it wasn’t.
“It didn’t impact me”
I learned how quickly most people in White, rural America forget about this type of injustice, or never acknowledge it in the first place. They make excuses. It must have been random that a Black child was chosen out of all possible suspects despite a lack of evidence, right?
12 year old me could not be convinced; adult you shouldn't be.
Learn about Anthony’s story here.
When I was around nine years old, my sister, around 17, started dating a boy whose mother was White and father was Black.
Now this is the part the older generation doesn’t want you to know: How they talked.
Scathing words from parents through the mouths of their children, "I bet he's a drug dealer"
I had no idea what that meant.
There was so much that they didn’t see:
Him being the only person to buy me medicine when I was sick or to take my physical symptoms seriously.
Him insisting on getting me a new bike for Christmas when my family was in the height of poverty.
Him being the only person to talk to me about being bullied.
He was 17-20 years old during this time, and was more attentive to my heightening needs than my parents. What drove such negative assumptions about someone I clung to as a parent figure?
I recently spoke to someone who believed that DEI is the hiring of unqualified minorities. I was taken aback; I shared that Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibits discriminatory practices in hiring. I explained that what most college and university DEI offices do is entirely different:
University DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) offices work to foster a welcoming and inclusive campus environment for all students, faculty, and staff by implementing policies and programs that promote diversity, fairness, and a sense of belonging, often including initiatives like mentorship programs, educational events, policy changes for accessibility and hiring, and support services for underrepresented groups. Their goal is to identify and remove barriers to success, ensure equitable opportunities, and address discrimination.
My place of employment has a DEI office of one individual. It serves to minimize legal costs by aiming to manage conflict without the need to involve legal counsel. It aims, and succeeds, at helping students feel seen and heard when they otherwise might have felt alone. Our immigrant students use our DEI office; we specifically have a program in Haiti and attract many multilingual students from there. Our neurodivergent students use this office; our sexual and gender minority students. Thankfully, my place of employment takes making everyone feel safe and included seriously.
I encourage you to consider privilege in the context of your life.
Privilege is not having to worry about legislation being drafted that targets you or restricts your rights.
Privilege is thinking slavery 'wasn't that bad' or that life for Black folks was suddenly equal to that of White folks immediately post-segregation.
Privilege is not having to worry about being identified as a suspect of a murder for the crime of existing while Black in Tuscarawas County, Ohio.
Privilege is having the audacity to diminish the suffering of a different group of people because you or your ancestors haven't personally experienced the same.
It’s beyond time to learn and to do better. Not just in words, but in true understanding and action.
Feeling uncomfortable and moving past that discomfort is key to learning and growing.
Racial and social inequalities exist, and pretending they don’t won’t make the complex issues of today go away.
White, straight podcasters don't speak for the Black community, the LGBTQ+ community, the autistic community; they simply create arguments against them.
For accuracy, go to the source.
If you want to understand an issue, in good faith, learn from those effected.
Inform yourself with the words of the individuals or group impacted by an issue.
If you truly want to understand the impacts of slavery and the nuances of this issue, why listen to a White podcaster over reading Maya Angelou? Which do you think is going to give you a more accurate depiction? Which one gives you the depiction that comforts you?
If you truly want to understand the media-generated phobia of trans folks, why not talk to someone who is trans? Have you ever? How have we become so comfortable judging something so unfamiliar so harshly?
If you want to understand the autistic community better, why not ask people who are autistic? Autistic parents exist. They're usually the parents of autistic kids. I love talking about the neurodivergent experiences of my family, myself included.
Diversity is normal.
Diversity exists, like it or not. We can either support our diverse friends or we can not.
I grew up watching television programming that celebrated diversity and inclusion, and honestly I was pretty invested in the idea. I wanted to fight pollution with the kids from Captain Planet. I wanted to befriend kids from around the world and learn about their cultures.
It shouldn't feel like an insult to acknowledge that we have not struggled the same as others. Acknowledge the discomfort of it, and let the discomfort drive forward positive change.
One thing I learned early on was that despite the barriers I endured in childhood, I still held certain privileges that others did not have. Privilege is not always binary or concrete. See the Social Inequalities Race video for examples of what I mean:
Until next time,
Megan
References
Martinez-Raymundo, D. & Pereira, I. 2024. Years after Anthony Harris' conviction was overturned, murder of little girl remains unsolved. ABC News. https://abcnews.go.com/2020/years-anthony-harris-conviction-overturned-murder-girl-remains/story?id=84376442




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