When I think of privilege, I realize the advantages I have that my family did not have. Having my own room gives me a sense of privilege. My mother grew up in a room with five other people and only one bed. I also have the luxury of being able to get to school while feeling safe. My grandmother had to walk through farms to get to school. And she and her classmates were always in danger of being killed. My grandmother lived in Kingston during the height of the conflicts between the two major political parties. Due to the threat of one of the parties shooting up the school, the school was eventually closed. While there is a risk of school shootings in America, I feel safe in my school, which I recognize is a huge privilege. Also, many people do not have the opportunity to attend college. I’m the first woman in my family to attend college. And by furthering my education, I’m going to gain access to all sorts of new opportunities. I think the most important privilege I take for granted is the ability to choose to work. My family prefers that I concentrate on my studies, so finding work was not a high priority. I know I’m fortunate to have my family support me while I’m in school. Many of my friends are forced to work in order to make ends meet. When I see my family providing for me, it motivates me to work harder in school so that when I graduate and get a good job, I can start providing for them too.

I’m not sure if this fits as oppression, but it does relate to a lack of privilege, as my family did not own a car. We had to beg other family members for rides after my father left, and we relied heavily on public transportation. Which is unreliable, especially in the winter. My mother had to support us on her own, so we couldn’t afford most things, and as a child, I couldn’t understand why we couldn’t afford most things. Most importantly, I noticed that I was treated differently after my father left. I’d become a statistic all of a sudden. That was the worst nightmare I’d ever had. There were a lot of kids my age who didn’t have a father. But it seemed to me to be a stereotype that was becoming all too real. Something that isn’t discussed is the shaming of black people who don’t behave in a certain way. Growing up, I was frequently ridiculed because I apparently “spoke white.” That has never made sense to me. However, it has had an effect on my relationship with my black identity. It is rarely discussed, but black people frequently oppress one another. On some issues, we disagree. such as skin color, music preference, or hobbies. We try to figure out who isn’t black enough and bully them for being different. The oppression article made me consider how the oppressed can be the oppressors. Like men being oppressed for sharing their emotions, while it may not be the same, I believe they are related because they are both shocking and not widely discussed.