Crashing into the Wall of White Male Privilege

WARNING: I have been a liberal political activist for my entire adult life. I am a left-wing, pinko, commie, government-affirming, tree-hugging bleeding heart. I am the exact kind of person conservatives like Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter want you to keep your children away from. Frankly, I am damn proud that in the unlikely case we ever meet, they both would despise me.

And still, I recently ran full-steam, head-first into a wall. I was blind to my entitled, ego-filled attitude. The collision has left me with a concussion. I am quite shocked and dazed, but grateful for my ongoing recovery. Writing this article has been my personal equivalent of the National Football League’s concussion protocol. In this process I have learned a great deal about myself and the realities of white male privilege.  

Now that I am seventy years old and semi-retired, I have time to pursue one of my great dreams: to have some of my work published. This is a truly daunting task and can be more than a little overwhelming. The writing remains exciting. Finding publishers is exhausting at worst and annoying at best. This part of the process consumes much more time than actually creating.

Fortunately there are resources, including several magazines and websites which provide lists of publishers seeking particular kinds of work. I came away from my initial survey of these resources with a sense that diversity had come to publishing. There seemed to be a flood of contests and calls for manuscripts from every underrepresented population: younger women, older women, LGBTQ writers, African-Americans, Native Americans, refugees, and immigrants were all given their opportunities.

It seemed that the only group that was left out was mine: The Old White Guys (OWGs). I was not very happy about it. It seemed that others were being given opportunities denied to me. The sentiment that the OWGs had held a privileged status for eons and that it’s now time to even the playing field was of little comfort and at times even felt offensive. Nothing in my life has been particularly easy. Everything I came into was a result of hard work. Implying I had it easy in the writing and publishing realm felt like an insult. This is one of the reasons many white males are so resistant to dealing with accusations of privilege. The sense of having worked very hard in life and simultaneously seeing the advantages accorded to us because of our race and gender can be difficult to integrate. It is not just fragility. Rather it reflects fury at the implication that our success was gifted to us. And when one is furious, the ego is activated and the ability to discern with an open heart shuts down.

My conscience said that equality—rather equity— was what my liberal self had always worked towards and hoped for my entire life. This experiment in literature was a concrete working-out of civil rights and social justice in a very specific and concrete corner of society. Great. Except I felt left out. Others seemed to be taking my place at the exact moment I wanted to claim it. Making room for others was costing me.   

My liberal sensitivities were still alive, but I was on a slippery slope. Darth Vader was beckoning me. I did not entirely plunge into the dark side, but I began to think there might be some truth to the ‘alt-right’ harangue that minorities had taken over and were taking all the good opportunities. I believed my dream was at risk because others were granted special status. My major error was allowing my mind and ego to go to the place of either/or: either them or me.  

As I surveyed the various calls for writing, I found one prize for a single mother living with a child under ten. The prize was an internship over the summer on Martha’s Vineyard. Great prize, but that one was out. I have five grandchildren who I love deeply, but I’d rather stick a screwdriver in my eye than live with any of them. I spent many years raising children. Been there. Done that. It was wonderful. Not looking for a repeat. And obviously I don’t fit the category.

There was also a prize for a translation of Zen poetry by Asian writers. Learning a new language is another of those screwdriver things. If this kept up, I was going to not only need more screwdrivers, but also more eyes.  

By far, the greatest number of requests were for works of poetry. But alas, I am not a poet. I am unable to put words together artfully enough to write poetry.

The next largest group of requests was for writers of various forms of fiction. Since I write essays, this was closer but not quite a bull’s eye.

Hmmmmmm. I wonder what happens if you stick a screwdriver in the eye of a bull. Some good fiction writer, accustomed to vivid detail, could write a great short story about that.

One group I did fit into was writers who have never published a book. The way it was looking, that might always be my group: The-Old White-Guys-Who-Have-Never-Published-A-Book-Group (OWGWHNPABG).

Maybe OWGs should get together and establish our own damn contest. Perhaps the conservative billionaire Koch brothers would fund it since they bankroll so many absurd rightwing causes. Theme: “Why liberals all suck.” Or perhaps, “Why all liberals should stick a screwdriver in their eye.”  The judges could be Fox News commentator and presidential confidante Sean Hannity and the ‘alt-rt’ spokesman, double-shirted Steve Bannon.

No matter how many snarky, sarcastic jokes I told myself to lighten my mood, the problem seemed insurmountable.

THE CHALLENGE

Then I got really lucky. While at a local poetry reading with my son and grandchild I began whining about all of this, insisting there should be contests and opportunities for the OWGs. After listening for several minutes my grandchild (who is twenty-one and identifies as transgender) retorted, “Grampa, anytime you speak like this I want to strangle you. This is all white-male-privilege crap.”

My son rolled his eyes adding, “Best check your facts, Dad. You sound like a limousine liberal.” We discussed this for twenty minutes or so, but I was clearly outgunned so I retreated with the intent of proving them wrong later.

My family has a well-cultivated, sharply-honed tradition of debate, discussion and provocation. It is one of the ways we love each other and play together and is one of the most beautiful things in my life. Three or four of us around a table and things can get very intense. However, in this instance I felt more than challenged. I felt stung. As with the publishing world, I was being displaced in my family. This OWG wasn’t going to be reduced in his own family, at least not without a fight. So I went home after the reading and immediately began preparing my defense. The intensity of that reaction should have alerted me, but it took a while.

THE RESEARCH

I remain enough of a liberal to believe that facts still matter, so I began researching the calls for manuscripts in exacting detail with the intention of sending both my son and grandchild the information that would prove my case. By the end of the week, I’d email facts, figures, numbers, charts and graphs.

What I discovered very quickly is that the situation was far worse than I had imagined. It was not worse because there was MORE exclusion. What I discovered was that I was flat-out WRONG. The facts did not fit my initial bias. What I discovered was that there was far LESS exclusion for OWGs than I thought.

Authors are informed of publishers’ interests through several magazines like Poets & Writers and Writer’s Digest. Both provide extensive lists of opportunities to submit work. In addition, there are websites like Submishmash Weekly and The Masters Review, which are helpful resources. I subscribe to Poets & Writers, so I concentrated on this source. Having the old-fashioned hard copies made the work easier (any OWG knows this). I focused on what were then their last four issues: November/December 2017 through May/June 2018.

The most relevant material for authors in search of publishers is in two sections. The first is in “Deadlines,” which is a listing of contests sponsored by publishers and community groups. The second is in “Classifieds,” which are publisher calls for manuscripts of books, articles, stories and poetry.

During the eight-month date-range I studied, there were approximately 520 notices, many of which included calls for more than one genre of writing, so the total number was 738 (many publishers marketed in multiple editions, so this is the number of notices, not publishers). By far the largest number of calls were for poetry (307). Fiction was next (220). Non-fiction—including creative non-fiction, my genre (143). There were 61 requests for book-length manuscripts (which could be in any genre). Finally, there were seven calls focused on translations. 

Of 738 announcements, I was eligible for the 143 in the non-fiction category (19% of the total announcements). In other words, the biggest source of exclusion was my self-selection out of poetry and fiction, not through being ignored or pushed aside by rising groups, but by excluding myself. It had nothing to do with others being favored.

Next came the tricky part. How many of the notices for 143 non-fiction calls were OWGs excluded from? What I found were exclusions based on geography, age, gender, race and theme. The largest category, much to my surprise, were exclusions based on location. For example, submissions needed to be from “a resident of Maryland” or “Westchester County.” I had to admit that if the folks of Westchester County are funding a prize they have the right to focus on writers from or about that area.

There were very few based on age. Two were for writers under thirty and one was focused on “Baby Boomers.” Three. Before I added this up, I would have sworn there were 30 based on age. Twelve notices (8%) were focused on LGBTQ community. There were about 15 ads focused on women writers. Much to my shock, there were only four calls based on race: three for African-Americans and one for Latina writers. Perhaps the flood of diversity is more like very slow drip. There were two for immigrants and/or refugees. Translations were the focus of seven ads. There were 27 ads with issues limited by themes including health, healing, medicine, the environment, peace and the human spirit.  In addition, as I reflect on this, the vast majority of writers—even if they are African American, female, LGBTQ, or refugees—would only fit into one or two of these categories. Everyone is limited in one way or another.

Back to the 143 calls for non-fiction manuscripts: I am excluded by 23%. On first impression I would have sworn to anyone within earshot that it was well over 50%. I would have sworn that there were 20 for refugees alone. I was utterly and totally convinced of it until I actually counted them all. And if someone had tried to tell me differently, I would not have believed them, any more than I believed my son and grandchild.

There are two personal considerations that arise. First, like most of life, writing (and especially getting published) is more difficult than I expected. I thought others were in my way. What I now see is that publishing is difficult for everyone, not just OWGs. The only thing in my way is how hard I want to work at all of this. No one is pushing me, or us, into the background.

Second, I unknowingly (or half-knowingly), translated difficulty into threat and began to blame. The ethnic- and gender-based ads totally jumped off the page into my mind. As I observed the extent of my exaggeration, it was as though each one jumped off the page several times. Clearly, I need to be very observant of my reactions in all of this.

Briefly stated, white male privilege is, in part, based on seeing personal and societal problems as being outside of oneself and taking a stance of being the victim. The problem is caused by the ‘others’ and we are the victims of their special treatment. Most importantly, we must preserve our communities before they outnumber us.

This was perfectly portrayed by then-candidate, now President Donald Trump in his announcement at the beginning of his campaign:

When Mexico sends its people, they are not sending their best. They are not sending you. They are not sending you. They are sending people that have lots of problems and they are bringing those problems to us. They are bringing drugs. They are bringing crime. They are rapists. And some I assume are good people.–Washington Post 7/8/15

Not only is the current administration divisive but the political climate inspires us to conclude erroneously that it is other people’s fault and we become the (implied) hapless victims of a conspiracy to defraud us of our “rightful principal” place in the culture. It is especially important to note the phrase, “They are sending…” DJT implies that Americans are at the mercy of the plans of others (whoever they may be) and we are the targets. Systemic problems of capitalism, which serves the billionaire class so well and keeps the working class enslaved, is only a part of the problem. There is no looking into the mirror—we are both complicit in its advantages and victims of its excesses. Is America supposed to be “made great again” primarily by marching to the drumbeat of blame and victim-hood?

CONFRONTING PRIVILEGE

There are two major reasons to confront privilege. First it creates an imbalanced society where some people are more advantaged than others. Second, it corrupts the heart and soul of white people. We need to face this for our own sake.

The imbalance: If the country does not care for all of its citizens, the citizens will not care for the country. Disaffection spreads like an invasive species of plant life, eventually weakening the ecosystem. The country that scapegoats one group this year will find another group next year. For every group targeted there is another group being groomed as the next sacrifice. Standing for equality for everyone is the best defense against a government gone off the rails into the abyss of darkness, discrimination and hate. The greatness of American Democracy is that everyone is supposed to benefit, not the chosen few. What makes America great is its commitment to protecting minorities.

Heart and soul destruction: White male privilege weakens white people. While at one level there are some very clear cultural, economic and social advantages to our position, it is also a trap. It is a fool’s refuge. It is a self-defeating, self-sabotaging venture which will ultimately lead to the ruination of our country. Self-segregated communities insulate kids against diversity, creating a legacy of children that can’t compete “outside of the box”. It sets us up to cooperate with and support forces that keep large portions of our population out of the mainstream. We end up supporting politicians who do not have our best interests in mind. The more we hoard the privilege, the more it corrupts us.

I do not know what it is like to face discrimination and bias every day. More than likely I would not cope with it very well. But I do know what it is like to live in a community which has collectively sold its soul for thirty pieces of silver. The reason to confront inequality is to prevent further corruption of our collective souls.

There are many ways in which white male privilege corrupts the soul.

One example is obviously me. I suffered from confirmation bias. A good dose of loving confrontation, research, thinking, and the self-reflection it generated rescued me from the slippery slope. Had I continued in that direction, many of my lifelong values would have been compromised. Facing the white-male-privileged attitude in my initial reactions to the publishers’ calls for manuscripts opened my eyes and heart and soul, which were in the process of closing.

Another example involves a man with whom I am only slightly familiar. He recently posted a vile message on Facebook saying a particular ethnic group should be erased from the Earth. Understandably many people responded in opposition. Hate speech needs to be confronted. But it is also important to see how his stance reflects his hardened heart and burdened his soul with tons of hate. I do not know him well enough to know how literally he meant his posting, but it seems clear to me his heart is weighted down.

The third example sees these processes from a collective perspective. My personal experience and our shared experience mutually reflect each other. I almost sacrificed many of my individual values and we as a country are now sacrificing our communal values. After all these years of progress, our government is going to build a nonsensical wall. Children of immigrants continue to be imprisoned. There are efforts underway designed to restrict voting rights. We accept a president who does not know the difference between truth and a lie. This president threatens to assassinate a world leader. He has tried to ferment a coup in a Central American country.

There are many instances of this, but I will briefly focus on immigration and the ‘no tolerance’ policy which has led to the ongoing separation of immigrant children from their parents.

Our government recklessly enacted a program of taking children from their parents without the slightest regard for the trauma this would cause. In addition, there was no plan to eventually reunite the children with their families. Our government has imprisoned children who have broken no laws. Our values of legal due process and fairness have been abrogated. This is reminiscent of slave owners selling the children and sending them away. It also fits with a long history of our government mistreating the children of native people. The present policy resurrects a barbaric aspect of our history. This does not make America great again. We are diving into the darkest, most vile aspects of our collective psyche.

What is next? Whose due process will be suspended next? The same administration who created this immigration debacle consider the press the enemy of the people. Will the reporters be rounded up? The Vice President has advocated electroshock as a treatment for homosexuality. Is the LGBTQ community next? Five years ago I would not have imagined our country imprisoning children. Now I do not trust we won’t do worse. Our collective souls are debilitated.

The macro problem of white male privilege invaded the micro of my life as I sought publication for my work. Privilege is not some distant social process that exists in the hinterlands of ethereal sociology and my history of progressive activism did not make me immune to seeking my share of it. The more we cling to privilege the more likely we are to eventually experience both individual pain and collective destruction. But facing it brings the opportunity for personal and collective liberation from the myths which limit and corrupt us.