White Privilege

White Privilege is the ideological assumption and belief based in political practices

placing white people and communities in positions of privilege financially, politically,

socially and educationally. So, a person can see how white privilege in politics was first

used, and that Blacks had basically no rights.

American scholar Peggy MacIntosh explains that white privilege is an ‘unearned

advantage’. It is an accident of birth where some people have access to benefits and

resources that others don’t. What makes it worse is that those who benefit are least

likely to notice, preferring to assume that any success they have is entirely down to their

own efforts and talents. To claim otherwise, the defence goes, would just be "anti-white

racism". Democracy has always been a political system that has straddled the uneasy

relationship between freedom and equality. But what we see when contemporary

Australian political discourse tries to reject the existence of white privilege, is the one-

sided prizing of liberty for some over equality for all.

The truth that is emerging, and of which racial relations in the workplace are a

barometer, is one where our political spectrum no longer ranges from left to right, but

from democracy to tyranny.

We seem to be faced with some of the most pressing and urgent “wicked”

problems that humanity has ever faced, such as homelessness, inequality, workforce

changes, biodiversity loss, water degradation, and climate change (McKegg, 2013).

Along with these global issues, the concerns and voices of Indigenous and minority

communities are growing louder about the failure of democratic ideals, such as

participation, equity, and social justice (McKegg, 2013).

The concept of privilege is complicated. There are all kinds of privileges, and they intersect.

Often, it is unexamined and invisible to those of us that have it (Kirkhart, 2015)

All white people in Western colonized countries have white privilege.

Not all are racist, but all benefit from the privilege of whiteness in a system that assumes

whiteness is normal. Mostly, whiteness isn’t really talked about. White people in Western

nations don’t even think of themselves as white; they are just people. Everyone else is an

“other”: a Māori man, or a Black woman, or an Asian child. Whiteness is connected to economic

power and class—and is probably least understood by those it privileges (Milne, 2009).

A dominant socio-cultural, educational, and economic system set up to privilege white

settler colonisers (Huygens, 2011) to shift and address deep-rooted, intergenerational

injustices that continue to be inflicted on First Nations people in our country and other wealthy,

colonised nations. In some of the wealthiest nations in the world, such as Canada, New

Zealand, Australia, and the United States, Indigenous people are some of the poorest citizens

(Cornell, 2006). Cornell (2006, p. 1) argues that “the wealth of these countries has been built

substantially on resources taken from these peoples, whose poverty—in the grand scheme of

things—is a recent creation.”

It is only by inhabiting the deconstruction of white privilege—in a truly holistic way—that

we stand a chance of navigating the tricky ground ahead of us (Smith, 2005), of revealing,

acknowledging, and dismantling the hidden, unseen, and colossal power that is held firmly in

place by those with white privilege.

Becoming a useful ally for Indigenous sovereignty and social justice is not a “self-

appointed identity” or a badge we acquire, and it’s not something we should take on out of self-

interest or ego. It is a role that those committed to a collective struggle for social justice take on,

for life ( Swiftwolfe & Shaw, n.d.). The work involved is a journey full of complexity and

uncertainty. It can be exhilarating and also deeply challenging because our dominant knowledge

systems and structures are powerful and resistant to allowing the necessary time and space for

equitable co-existence of other knowledges (Wehipeihana & McKegg, 2018).

The journey of becoming an ally for First Nations social justice, requires that we shift our

gaze from helping others, determining needs for others, designing for others, to changing

ourselves (Huygens, 2011; McKegg, 2013; Smith, 2012). Only when we understand our

histories, and our collusion as perpetrators of colonisation, and the privilege this affords us, can

we then move on to the journey of becoming useful allies.

So, as well as supporting the struggles of Indigenous peoples, we must first engage in

separate and specific work amongst ourselves (Margaret, 2013, p. 6). The reality is that

most of us who identify as white settlers don’t know our own histories, let alone those of

Indigenous people, nor our place in them. Margaret (2018, p. 3) argues that “we don’t know

ourselves, our white ways, and we don’t know the ways of [the] land.

We are poorly equipped to act well in the relationships that allow us to be [on the lands we

occupy].” It’s hard to hear the real history; it’s not like the one we’ve been telling ourselves to

elevate and justify our positions of privilege. We didn’t discover the lands we occupy; the people

who were on the lands our ancestors settled didn’t benefit from our occupation. We benefited,

and continue to do so, at the expense of Indigenous people’s cultures, language, economies,

and spiritualities.

White fragility functions to "keep people of color from challenging racism in order to

avoid white wrath. In turn, not challenging white people on racism upholds the racial order and

whites’ position within that order."

White fragility refers to feelings of discomfort a white person experiences when they

witness discussions around racial inequality and injustice. For example, people of color

may find it difficult to speak to white people about white privilege and superiority. The white

person may become defensive, and the person of color may feel obligated to comfort the white

person because we live in a white-dominated environment.

Allies must embrace a journey of reconciliation within themselves. They have to find a way

to reconcile their collective cultural cognitive dissonance—between what they've told

themselves and believed wholeheartedly was “the story” of settlement, and what they now know

has been the impact of their settlement on First Nations people. They have to begin with

knowing and accepting themselves, their histories, their privilege and power. They can begin

unravelling the intersections between privilege, power, colonisation, and racism.

This work involves the privileged being responsive in practice and form to the

aspirations, perspectives, and views of First Nations people. This means bringing about

changes to our policies, procedures, structures, and systems, as well as resource flows. It

raises questions for us about how decisions are made throughout political processes. For

example, how are the needs and resources for Indigenous political activism determined? How

might we recruit and retain Indigenous people within the AG in ways that shift and disrupt the

power and dominant forces that maintain our current practice?

Choosing to embark on this journey will be unsettling, and it is likely that feelings of shame,

discomfort, and uncertainty will be part of the experience. Working the spaces in between First

Nations and non-Indigenous people requires joint commitment to creating conditions wheredisagreements, emotional flux, and emergence are to be expected and normal (Cram & Phillips,

2012). Arriving at this recognition takes intellectual, emotional and cultural work over time, which

will be challenging ( Huygens, 2011). Yet, as Hotere-Barnes (2015) says, to ignore these

difficulties perpetuates and preserves racist systems. If we work to shift our thinking and

understandings of ourselves and our relationships with Indigenous people, our subsequent

actions and interactions are less likely to reinforce negative and unproductive patterns and

outcomes (Bishop, 2017). Learning to remain quiet, listen well, pay respectful attention, share

power, and sustain relationships over the long term will also unlock powerful learning

opportunities and fill your whole self, heart, head, soul, and spirit.

“White Tears" is phrase to describe what happens when certain types of White people

either complain about a nonexistent racial injustice or are upset by a non-White person's

success at the expense of a White person. It encompasses (and makes fun of) the performative

struggle to acknowledge the existence of White privilege, and the reality that it ain't always

gonna go unchecked. It is a potent and critical tool in the fight against mutual engagement.

DiAngelo concludes that they work “to reinstate white equilibrium as they repel the challenge,

return our racial comfort, and maintain dominance within the racial hierarchy.” And you know

why it works so well? Because “the social costs for a black person in awakening the sleeping

dragon of white fragility often prove so high that many black people don’t risk pointing out

discrimination when they see it.” (Yup—it’s exhausting.)

A catalyst for a sustainable future that is also more just, more equitable, more kind, more

holistic can be found if we are prepared to shift our gaze and practice (Hudson, Roberts,

Smith, Tiakiwai, & Hemi, 2012). Jen Margaret (2013, pp. 7–8) so aptly says that “[j]ust and

peaceful relationships are critical to the health of communities, and knowledge of how to work

as allies has the potential to contribute to positive relationships throughout society.” We need a

lifetime commitment to ongoing decolonisation work in our personal and professional lives in the

hope that we can make a contribution to supporting Indigenous people’s claims to sovereignty

over their lives, including what kind of political activism takes place in all matters that directly or

indirectly affect or concern them. We remain hopeful that there will come a time when

Indigenous practices, languages, ways of being and knowing, rights, perspectives, and thinking

are affirmed and realized.

Man, of Wisdom

I knew this man

He lived in the sand

And when I talked to him

He shared this wisdom

Don’t hurt anybody

If you can avoid it

Don’t steal or take

Even if you enjoy it

Your life is precious

Build it on peace

And learn your lessons

From your mistakes

Take this wisdom

And share it

Know you’re always loved

And care about it

But walk closely in the Light

And you will always be Alright

He walked with me

In the desert

And told of a life lived hard

Stolen and beaten

It was his karma he said

I asked what karma

Leaves you beaten and Tries to mould you

To a mob of greedy violent Soldiers

From lands far away

Torn deadly array

He softened and turned Face forgiving and sombre

He looked to me

Head held high

And asked me

What I thought of the sky

Cloudy and grey

As it was

Ready to thunder and rain

I said it made me sad

To know that peace

Was considered bad

When we could all know

The wisdom of sharing Laughter land and be glad

He smiled and walked on ahead

I stumbled and fell

On the desert rocks and bled

He walked as if on air

As I saw his Ancestors there

Holding him high

Shining bright light and wise

I remember what he told me

Rise at sunrise

And surrender

Yourself to the Moon

As it dips below the horizon

To the Sun as she rises

And you’ll know soon

That your life

Is of service

Of giving love in return

For every slight laid upon you

Through this you'll learn

He smiled to me

As he left

Moving up and over the mountains

I laughed as I cried

For he’d given me such sweetness

Old desert man

Never leave us

We need your wisdom and words

For they are a lost people

And sometimes we feel

That they will never learn....