20160119.0639

A couple of years ago, I noted in this webspace that my wife was standing for a baby shower (see it here). Now, with the Mrs. sleeping in the bed we share and Ms. 8, whose expected arrival was being celebrated, sleeping in her own bed, I find myself reflecting on some of the comments I made then. I have come to the conclusion that I was having some of my forms of privilege checked at being effectively excluded from the event. (I know I was formally invited. I know also that I would not have been truly welcome, that my presence would have imposed upon the others there gathered. And so my absence from the proceedings was appropriate, as it will doubtlessly be from similar circumstances later. I am okay with this.) I know it was only some, of course; the mere fact of being (indirectly) the beneficiary of a baby shower (and not having to buy as many diapers and other baby paraphernalia was a benefit to me) marks me as enjoying some privilege of social positioning. But the assumption that I belong in a given place was decidedly not at work.

As I think on it now, I have to wonder how many other times I have acted on that assumption when I ought not to have done so. Several come to mind quickly; I am intrusive, I know, and I am aware of some occasions when I have inserted myself into affairs as I ought not to have done. But I have to wonder how many others (and I know there are others) happened that I do not recall, either because the events have faded from the parts of my memory I commonly search or because I recall the event but was surrounded by people too polite or too concerned with my self-esteem to tell me that I had erred. The idea that I have made so many mistakes and not been aware of making them is not a comfortably one, and while I can see the counterpoint that I cannot alter events as they occurred, I can also note that I might like to avoid such errors later on--which obliges me to know how they happened. But I am also not about to backhandedly assert privilege by insisting that others tell me how and when I made my mistakes; that would also be counterproductive.

What, then, to do? Perhaps the best answer is to be silent and observe from outside, but I am also told that doing so is an exercise of privilege; the ability to leave--at least, to leave without consequence--is not something all share. And I know from experience that I will not be allowed to do such things as much as I might otherwise prefer...unless I can be sufficiently convincing that work continues. That, at least, allows me some way around things; it is hard to argue against my persistence in trying to support my family, particularly for those who benefit from that work...