I know it’s been a few days since I’ve posted, and to be honest it’s because I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions and just generally feeling like a jerk-wad.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m still excited about my new home, and all the changes in store for me, and I still have a lot of hope for myself and my situation–but I’ve been sort of wallowing in the bad feelings I get when I think about how blind I’ve been.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve never really taken an honest look at my “station” in life, or considered with any depth that I come from a place of privilege–that everything I write and assume comes from the fact that I’ve been privileged. I find it even more embarrassing to admit that in college (at my small, private, liberal arts school) I’d often look at others around me as being more privileged than I was, thus considering myself as someone with “less.” Granted, I indeed was surrounded by some people who may have come from higher-class families, but how could I have been so blind to all that I had available to me? How could I have not seen and felt lucky and grateful for the privileges I took for granted?
I worked hard in school. I worked hard in all the jobs I’ve had. I’ve worked hard in my relationships. But I never stopped to think, to really consider and understand, that there are so many others who didn’t have the opportunity to go to school. Who don’t have jobs. Who don’t have family or friends to rely on for support. For help. I’ve not wanted to see that. But now I am. Blinders are off, folks. There’s no turning back.
The problem is, I feel so stunned and upset with myself that I’m unsure how to move forward. I worry that when I write, those privileged assumptions will still be in place. I worry that the next thing I write will come out wrong.
So, give me some time. Don’t lose faith in me yet. I’m hoping to come out on the other side of this as better human being.