“C’mon, don’t you think blacks have it harder [than whites]?” my friend implored me as we approached the tee box on the 8th hole on a spectacular Sunday afternoon on a golf course on the North Shore, one of Chicago’s wealthier suburbs. My answer is always the same, “Some.”
A few months earlier, another friend,
who is black, sent me an article written by a woman, decrying the existence of
“white privilege,” which reads in part,
"We constantly see it play out in our criminal justice system, where white men receive significantly less prison time when compared with their African-American or Latino counterparts for the same offense. We've seen it in the workplace where white men who have less qualifications than women or minority candidates get the job, the promotion, or the raise because of relationships and the "old boys network." We've seen it in exclusive neighborhoods and high-end department stores where African-Americans are profiled, followed, and presumed to be criminals despite any kind of evidence or wrongdoing."
.
Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a
Family and Culture in Crisis by J.D. Vance is an excellent and appropriate
answer to the notion of white privilege, although it is not written as one. Vance writes an authentic and heartfelt
memoir of his youth in Appalachia (then transplanted to Ohio). His account is neither self-indulgent, nor
overtly political. It is highly personal
and intimate, yet not bitter, angry or blaming.
Through his own family experience, he describes a segment of society
that has chronically been left behind.
One can’t help but draw parallels
between Vance’s experience growing up and that of so many blacks in the inner
cities in America. He was largely
abandoned by his biological father. His
mother battled drug addiction her entire life.
He lived in a home in which there was a revolving door of men in and out
of the home, so there was no constant father figure for him to rely on. Verbal and physical violence permeated his
childhood. He was reared largely by his
grandmother, who instilled values of education in him. His family situation was chaotic, “One of the
questions I loathed, and that adults always asked, was whether I had any
brothers or sisters. When you’re a kid,
you can’t wave your hand, say, “It’s complicated, and move on.” As he recounts the anecdotes of his childhood
experiences, we are horrified by them, amazed that Vance was able to make it
out (as with many lower class kids, using the military as a first rung). In his
story, poverty is embedded in his upbringing.
“Violence and chaos were an ever present part of the world that I grew
up in,” says Vance.
And, like many blacks in urban
America, the society which Vance was reared has been ravaged by the decline in
manufacturing employment that sustained these communities. As manufacturing employment in Ohio
succumbed to foreign competition and greater efficiencies, those jobs
evaporated, leaving despair and hopelessness behind in their wake. Now, drug overdoses in his former community
is the leading cause of death. Run-ins
with the law are not uncommon. (One of
the best tweets circulated recently read, “You know you come from White Trash
when you count more ankle monitors than Fitbits at your family picnic.”)
Hillbilly Elegy resonated with me
on a personal level. When my
African-American friend raised the issue of “white privilege” with me, I
bristled. As someone that grew up in
one of the blue collar, ethnic enclaves in Chicago, I felt I had more in common
with black kids that went to public schools on the South Side than with white
kids that grew up in Kenilworth and went to New Trier. My 2nd grade class picture shows
a classroom of 52 kids (some with special needs) and one grumpy old nun
wielding a ruler to keep order. Every street
corner in my neighborhood had a tavern and alcoholism and family discord
abounded. Poverty, while hidden, was
not uncommon, along with domestic abuse.
To get ahead in life in my
neighborhood, it was helpful to curry favor with either the local ward committeeman
or parish priest. One got you a good
job if you got out the vote. The other
saved your soul.
Hillbilly Elegy widens the lens
on relative social and economic disadvantage beyond race. The relative proportions may be different,
but there are plenty of whites that are similarly disadvantaged. Regardless of race, growing up in a single
parent , unstable, unsafe family is a tremendous obstacle to overcome. After reading Vance’s book and read the
anecdotes of his upbringing, you will come away with more empathy for those
that come from lower class America and their struggles-- regardless of race.
While some
blacks have struggled to seek solutions through groups like BLM, others, like
Charles Barkley and former Dallas police chief David Brown have advocated
taking greater personal responsibility and ownership. Barkley recently said, “Unfortunately, as I
tell my white friends, we as black people, we’re never going to be successful,
not because of you white people, but because of other black people. When you’re black, you have to deal with so much crap in your life from other
black people. “It’s a dirty, dark
secret; I’m glad it’s coming out. One of
the reasons we’re not going to be successful as a whole because of other black
people. And for some reason we are
brainwashed to thing, if you’re not a thug or an idiot, you’re not black enough. If you go to school, and make good grades,
speak intelligent and don’t break the law, you’re not a good black person. And it’s a dirty, dark secret.”
Vance asks
very similar questions about his own poor white culture in Hillbilly Elegy, “Are
we tough enough to look ourselves in the mirror and admit that our conduct harm
our children? Public policy can help but
there is no government that can fix these problems for us.”
Vance is
blunt, open, and honest about his life and the echoes of his youth that undoubtedly plague him
still, “Upward mobility is never clean-cut, and the world I left always finds a
way to reel me back in.”
Hillbilly
Elegy puts flesh and life on the bones of Charles Murray's important book, Coming Apart: The State of White America, 1960-2010 and raises questions about upward mobility and the American dream in a
segment of society that has been stuck for generations, and shows us that these
issues are not completely race based.
And he does so in a sincere voice and without an agenda.
Vance's book validates my answer as correct. Do blacks have it harder? Some. Are whites privileged? Some. Many clearly are not.
It will likely be my choice for nonfiction book of the year.
Vance's book validates my answer as correct. Do blacks have it harder? Some. Are whites privileged? Some. Many clearly are not.
It will likely be my choice for nonfiction book of the year.