I have been concerned about social justice issues for a long while. Over the years, I found myself volunteering with various social service agencies in the areas of homelessness, domestic violence, and poverty. But, after a few months or years, my schedule and priorities would shift and I would move on to the next thing or take a short break from involvement. It wasn't until the last few months that I realized several things, the most important is: the fact that I can "take a break" from advocacy work, in both thought and action, is a direct product of privilege. The people I worked with living in poverty or suffering from violence did not have the luxury to "take a break." The same is true for people of color facing overt and institutional racism every day. Two books I read in class this term changed the way I view the world and my place in it. The first is
White Privilege by Paula S. Rothenberg and
Uprooting Racism by Paul Kivel. For the first time, I began to understand the unearned opportunities provided to me through white privilege and economic privilege.
In a forum I attended recently, the speaker said that sexual exploitation of children is a crime of gender, race, and class. I do not have privilege in the first category, but I certainly have privilege in the latter two as a white middle class American. Across the world, child prostitution and exploitation primarily affects children of color (or children of a minority ethnic group) and poor children who are easily exploited and have few options. Yet, few people in our community are fully aware of the issue. Or, if they are, they see it as something that is happening halfway around the globe, and are blind to the same issue in their own neighborhood. Human trafficking and exploitation are in every city.
Historically, guilt has been a cloying deterrent to my true and effective involvement in advocacy work. I read an amazing quote recently that summed it up for me:
"Guilt is where most white people get stuck. Guilt is the ultimate obstacle in the personal journey to being a white ally. Guilt allows white people to maintain the status quo. Guilt creates paralysis. Guilt transfers the responsibility to people of color. Guilt continues the aspect of racism wherein white people put people of color in a situation of taking care of us. By saying, 'I feel so guilty, so bad,' it puts the other person in a position of comforting. The other person is then silenced, must reposition or restate their truth. Or worse -- maintain their truth and risk being viewed as mean, insensitive and angry." (http://www.tolerance.org/activity/white-anti-racism-living-legacy). We are bound to feel guilty when inequities are revealed! But the work lies in the alchemy of transforming guilt into action.
Now that I understand the pervasive nature of the heinous crime of sexual exploitation, I can no longer ignore my part in it. If I don't act, my silence is implied consent. Now that I see its ubiquity, how can I not stay involved?
