a CITIZEN JOURNALIST experiences his first real taste of “white privilege” — and likes it!
Earlier this morning I picked up a bunch of cans of Progresso soup at Safeway. Not really unusual for me — I’m a big soup for lunch guy — but here’s the kicker: when I went to check out, the clerk — a white lady in her early fifties, if I had to guess — double bagged the potentially unruly cans, and without my even asking that she please do so.
I can’t say for certain, but my guess is the Hispanics around these parts? Get a single skimpy plastic bag to tote their menudo cans back home in. If they’re lucky. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the clerk just tossed the individual tins into the cart and gave it a gentle kick toward the door.
Do I feel guilty, enjoying such specialized treatment? A little, sure. But shit. I’m white. What the hell can I do, fight it…?