Pondering Privilege

Several years ago, I was in a play, "The King and I." Being the Caucasian I am, you'd think I was likely the lead, Anna. However, I was not. I was one of the wives. Our King also was Caucasian. Our community is 88.5% white according to demographic data. During that show, the King shaved his head to fit the part. We wives etc. made our hair dark if it wasn't already a dark brown/black--I dyed mine black. I never intend to do that again; not a flattering look on me at all. We also used make up to cover up the dark circles and pull our eyes forward so they didn't look so sunken and well, let's be honest, Caucasian. We did not do any kind of elaborate make up that involved stereotypes--think Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Although, I do cringe a little at the thought of trying to flatten my features and fit into a more Asian presentation; honestly, probably not the best show to choose in a town like mine. Theater is all about illusion. Illusion of costume, make up, and paint. However, our make up choices also walk a fine line of what some might refer to as white privilege--choosing a show that has so many roles for Asian actors and then filling those roles with white people. We did have one actual Thai actress. One.

I love this movie, but this part is cringe-worthy.

Another experience I mull over when I think about my white privilege involves a performance at a cultural fair. My belly dance troupe was invited to perform. We followed a speaker from India. Our troupe often support each other with ululation and saying things like "Yallah!" The speaker was quite offended. I'm not entirely sure if he thought we were saying "Allah!" or what, but he told our leader that we should not say that as it is taking the Lord's name in vain, except we weren't. I had always believed yallah to be a celebratory phrase. It was something to cheer the other dancers and maybe make him or her move faster in their dance. This Indian fellow though was adamant that we were being rude and insensitive, which would be totally out of place at a cultural fair where the goal is to build connections and appreciation for other cultures. I didn't want to offend audience members, so I did a little digging. I couldn't find anything to support the idea that "yallah!" would be offensive, so I let it go.

Maybe we were articulating too many l's. 

Similar in subject to that, I sometimes think about an article I read that ranted about white belly dancers; I had to keep my knee-jerk potentially white privilege reaction in check. The author stated she despised white belly dancers who were stealing gigs in the Middle East and who were doing nothing more than wearing too much kohl eyeliner and performing in "brown face." I grappled a lot with trying to see things from her point of view. Belly dance comes in a wide variety of styles now. There are fusion, tribal, Egyptian cabaret, Turkish, American cabaret, and a host of others. As one of the oldest--if not the oldest--form of dance in the world, it's gone through countless incarnations and spread all over the globe. While some dancers remain covered in full-length caftans, others like me wear bedlah sets. Ultimately, I had to conclude that while the person clearly had strong feelings about the subject, I couldn't accept what I do as privilege and appropriation. I'm sure she'll never want to see us perform at the restaurant here, but art forms of all kinds evolve and change over time. As we move toward a more global society and a less tribal species, saying one race cannot engage in an art form smacks of divisive thinking. An online acquaintance who happens to be an anthropologist pointed out that the key is to be respectful in the presentation. I agree; I would no sooner apply darker make up thereby mocking the situation like the black face performers of old than I would show the bottom of my feet while dancing at the restaurant because that offends the Greek population who frequent the location. I think keeping the style and technique respectful is important. I'm not going to apologize for being a white belly dancer, though. I love it. I am eternally grateful for having the chance to learn this dance for all of the wonderful details it has brought into my life. Instead of "sorry," I say "thank you" to those first belly dancers who brought the "abdominal gyrations" to the World's Fair. I am thankful that belly dance was shared with the world.

This is a belly dancer.

So is this.

Them, too.

A year ago, I sat at a table with my husband and his two brothers. We were talking politics and the backlash against President Obama came up. One brother posed the question along the lines of how it's obvious that the blow back and opposition is driven by racism. I commented that I didn't "know" that to be true. When I say I "know" something, I've considered it deeply. I had not, at that point, truly considered the idea of racism against our president. While I knew there was definitely a contingent of racism, I felt that chalking it up to racism only was a little too simplistic. Maybe I just wanted to believe better about our country's leaders. I still think it's a complicated issue that goes beyond racism, but I can say that racism is most definitely a factor. Some might say my initial reluctance to agree immediately is my white privilege talking.  Maybe.

I don't think that's quite how it works.

But it's truly mind-boggling that we haven't grown beyond it yet. This is a nation founded on being a melting pot. It's also a nation built on eradicating indigenous people in order to take over. It's a tangled web to unwind; it's not likely to be spun into silk any time soon either. It's one I wish more people considered rather than dismissing outright. For my part, I will continue to consider my reactions to race related issues to determine how much my privilege is in play. May others find their way to do the same.