This reflection was originally posted on July 31, 2015.
Privilege is uttering a string of expletives because one of the two automatic hand dryers in the IKEA restroom is broken, rendering you unable to dry your hands using separate dryers at the same time.
Privilege is also being terrified for the little Black girl (she’s probably no older than six) standing outside my new apartment building’s gated parking lot yelling “I’m gonna rob you” to me over and over at the top of her lungs, but being able to walk inside with my stuff anyway.
If you condemn those who have privilege for abusing it, for example, by killing a lion named after a racist guy, you should also be sensitive to those who do not, for example, people who overwhelmingly tend to wind up dead in jail cells (how many are we at this week?) or in any other manner.