A daily commute and a perspective on Privilege

This week I've been working on-site at a venue I've never visited - inside the Queenslands' Magistrate Court. Being in this new setting reminded me of a woman, a stranger, I met on the train last year and her use of the word privilege.

At the time, I was commuting to work on my regular train, lost in my writing and had forgotten how to spell the word, “connotations.” This older woman, around 65+, had just sat down next to me and was reading a French magazine.

Bilingual - I thought to myself. Likely an excellent speller.

She sat with a sort of, intention, and presence about her... confident, colourful, almost "beaming". I was curious about her and felt she wasn't the average commuter.

“Excuse me, do you know how to spell connotations?”

The woman put down her magazine and slid her glasses off, looked across at me and spelt, “C-o-n-n-o-t-a-t-i-o-n-s”.

“Thanks... ” My train has some interesting people as it runs all the way to the Airport, so I often find myself asking, as I did this woman, "...where are you heading today?"

The woman introduced herself and told me that today she was volunteering at the Queensland Magistrates Court. We started to chat, and she then described in brief, her years working as a nurse, then an adult educator, and doctor.

She tried to retire, she told me, and that after 8 failed attempts, she recognised that something was missing.

I couldn't help but ask, "... what were you missing?"

She told me, it was the most important element of her work that she missed - to help and be there for people at times in their lives when they most needed it.

The woman told me that she came to realise that she needed something "purpose-full".

She told me that by volunteering at the Court in an administration role, she was able to be present for people that were in very awful times of their lives … abuse, crime, and all the reasons that had brought them to court that day.

She told me that some people that came into the building had experienced much suffering, and that for some, it is the most difficult days of their lives. She felt for her to offer her support, however minor, to be there for them, was her opportunity to give something back. She told me it was fulfilling and incredibly satisfying.

The woman went on to describe that to provide even a brief moment of support at times in life and society when things are very, very difficult gave her a "special feeling" of being a part of something bigger and having a bigger impact.

How wonderful is this woman, I thought to myself?

I commended her, and told her what a fantastic way to give and thing to do this was, and as the train pulled up to our station and she strolled off ahead of me, she said -

“No, it is my privilege... It is my absolute privilege to be able to offer support.”

How humble was she! I hadn’t heard this word for some time and thought to myself, what a fantastic and unique way to perceive, privilege.

Your thoughts?