I prayed, and God told me to be kind and share my story. This is my attempt to do so.
As an elementary school student, I went to a school with a good percentage of Hispanic kids. At recess, some of the Hispanic girls would point at me (and my sister had this too), and they would laugh and speak in Spanish, so I couldn't understand. Kids are mean sometimes. And I always had low self-worth, so it just established my fear that people don't like me.
In high school, there was a Mexican boy who refused to call me by my name. He referred to me as "white girl" or "whitie." Lots of times I would just say, "I'm darker than you." I said this because he was rather pale, and I tan easily, so my skin actually was darker than his. He was annoying. There was also a Korean boy that called all girls fat, except for me; he told me that I looked 50 years old. He was in my Biology class and would flip the textbook open to the picture of a penis. Every day. When it actually time to learn about the reproductive systems, we were also given packets. So, he would flip the packet and the textbook open, so there would be multiple pictures of penises on my desk. I wasn't super fond of that. He also was in my chemistry class the next year. One day, he grabbed my desk while I was sitting in it and flipped it over, so I was tossed to the ground. I just was lying on the ground with my desk next to me on its side and the teacher just stared at me. I got up and flipped my desk back over, sat back in my desk, folded my arms, and put my head down. And no one did a thing. Everyone just watched.
In college, I danced in the lu'au every year. And there were always the comments that the Polynesian dancers were looking too white. It was a lu'au to help fund multicultural students, and I helped get tickets sold by dancing, and most of my Polynesian friends loved that I was participating. One year, I had one friend while in the group, a Hawaiian girl. She confided in me that she was sometimes rejected from other Polynesian groups because she looked too white. We were both ignored a lot that year because we were too "white and skinny."
At work, I have been confronted by lots of kids who tell me that they hate all white people. They tell me that I'm racist because I remind them of the rules and expect them to improve unhealthy behaviors. They tell me they want to fight me because I'm white.
I've been hearing the word privilege again a lot lately, usually with the word white in front. I ran into the word 'privilege' while I was listening to talks from church leaders. Joy D. Jones mentioned the Prophet Joseph Smith telling the women of the church, "If you live up to your privilege, the angels cannot be restrain'd." And it made me think a lot about what is happening today and what happened during that time.
The history of the church is wrought with persecution. People were tarred and feathered, shot in their own homes, and dragged out into the cold. The people were beaten and killed in front of their own spouses, siblings, parents, and even children. Their buildings were burned, and they were told to leave. Yet, Joseph Smith told the women to live up to their privilege. It might have seemed hard to think about privilege when the people of Christ's church were being oppressed. The law was technically set forth for the freedom of religion, and yet the leaders of the country disowned them and even ordered them out and/or killed. So what privilege did they have? What was Joseph Smith even talking about?
Women have the natural capacity of charity, according to the Relief Society notes. They had strength in numbers and had the privilege to come to the aid of each other. They aided each other by bringing each other food, caring for one another's children while work had to be done, and helping with the work. They helped mend clothing and build homes. They even shared their homes when needed. They had the ability to teach their children how to love instead of hate. They taught their children what silent strength was. And I am a descendant of these women.
I come from a long line of strong women and men. I have been taught and shown how to help others and to discern others' needs. I have watched grandmothers take care of the sick and needy when they were also sick and needy. I saw my grandmothers save and earn to give themselves and the people around them more than what they had before. I've read the stories of grandmothers who were rejected by family and yet believed in love and caring for others. I watched my mother be inclusive to everyone and my dad also be inclusive. I can't say they're all perfect, but they have put in effort to make the world a better place.
I saw a sign the other day in a protest that said, "Silence is violence." And I have to say I wholeheartedly disagree. My ancestors have been a demonstration of silent strength. There is a time to speak up, and sometimes the action is being taken by those who haven't said a word at all. Those who do instead of just say are some of the greatest unsung heroes.
So, let's all use our privilege. Everyone has some type of privilege. I've had the privilege of growing up in a home where learning was highly valued. I had the privilege of growing up in a home where unkind things were not supposed to be said. I got in trouble a lot for that. I grew up in a home where we were taught how to work hard and be diligent. I'm not perfect, but I've made great changes in my life. And I can do better. I am willing to change, and I hope that I am kind.
"The Lord loves effort, and effort brings rewards." -- Joy D Jones
