Discourses of identity politics and minority rights are often peppered with the words ‘privilege’ and ‘oppression.’ So what does privilege really mean?
Privilege is defined as a set of unearned advantages, enjoyed by those who do not suffer from a particular oppression, simply by virtue of belonging to a specific social or biological group. Privileges are often the hardest to see by those who carry them due to these privileges being normalised by society. The fact that not everybody has these privileges is often forgotten, or ignored.
Also Read: Deconstructing Privilege: Equality, Equity & Justice
Oppression, on the other hand, is much easier noticed than privilege, at least by the oppressed. This is because the oppressed are constantly cast out of mainstream discourse – institutionalised systems are not created for them, and they do not serve them. The oppressed are constantly reminded of their alterity, while the privileged occupy the mainstream.
Privilege, therefore, is just the experience of NOT facing the brunt of oppressive power systems, like patriarchy or cis-heteronormativity or casteism or ableism. These systems create conditions that systematically over-empower certain groups. Peggy McIntosh made this concept popular in her essay, White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack, where she listed examples of the things that she took for granted due to her white skin. She states, “As a white person, I realized I had been taught about racism as something which puts others at a disadvantage, but had been taught not to see one of its corollary aspects, white privilege, which puts me at an advantage.”
As an upper class, upper caste, fair-skinned woman, I was born with several kinds of privileges. Much of this privilege that we carry is so fundamental to our identities that we rarely examine them or think about the power structures that operate in order to make it possible for us to hold this privilege. Identity politics, like feminism or anti-caste movements, seek to make privilege visible. They try to highlight the advantages that the privileged carry, stark against their absence in the oppressed. In this article, I examine the privileges I was born with, and some that I wasn’t.
Among the privileges I hold are
Caste privilege: I had no idea what my caste was until my second year of university. I had never been affected by it, and hence, I was oblivious to it. This is the clearest way privilege works – by rendering itself invisible. Being unaware of my caste privilege was the clearest symptom of my caste privilege. I will never have my admission and progress in university doubted or dismissed because of affirmative action policies. My achievements will be lauded as a result of my “hard work”; my caste privilege never being taken into account, while any achievements by lower-caste peers will be ignored in favour of scoffing at their reservation category. My family’s upper-caste privilege has allowed me easy access to education. With even my grandmother holding an MA degree, I never had to doubt the fact that I would receive the best education possible. I have never gone to school and made to feel like I don’t belong, been asked to clean toilets because of my last name, or been stigmatized to the point of suicide.
Class privilege: My caste privilege certainly lends itself to my class privilege, as the two intersect widely – 93% of Dalits live below the poverty line. I have the luxury of never going hungry and being able to take education for granted. I have the luxury of not immediately getting a job after graduation – I can take as much time as I need to “figure it out” and “follow my heart” (all implicitly class-tinted truisms). I can walk into malls or restaurants with watchmen not treating me with suspicion and disrespect, a mobility of access not granted to the lower class.
Religious privilege: While I personally identify as an atheist, I have an outwardly Hindu sounding name, which cloaks me in the privilege of hegemonic Hinduism. Being viewed as a [upper-caste] Hindu means I will never be treated like a cultural outsider on the basis of my name or religious practices or my eating habits. I do not have to prove my patriotism repeatedly for fear of false terrorist charges being slapped on me. I will never be discriminated against in the search of houses or jobs, that are frequently denied to Muslims on the basis of their religion.
Cisgender privilege: I am a cis-woman. This means that the body that I was born with and the gender identity I identify with are aligned. I have never had to face the difficult process of coming out as a transperson. I do not have to face constant transphobic questions on what my genitals look like, or how I will have children, or the mechanics of my sex life. I have the privilege of walking down a road and not having people cross the road in order not to run into me. Cis-privilege means that I am not painfully reminded of society’s exclusion of me every time I fill a document asking to check boxes marked M or F. For the most part, I can rely on police protection instead of being systematically harassed, raped and imprisoned by them because of my gender identity.
Heterosexuality privilege: As a heterosexual woman, I am protected by India’s laws. My right to love and engage in sexual activity is not deemed illegal. I can watch television and see my understanding of romantic love reflected in the many films I watch. I do not have a sp-comments">
