It’s not about white privilege – it’s about what you do with your power.

2017 was a tough year. Many things happened, yet the biggest change was that I stopped reading regular news websites. Unless an article was sent to me directly or something someone said caught my attention, I wouldn’t spend much of my energy obsessing about it. 

I used to wake up at night and lie awake in bed for hours. I was so incredibly sad about the world and the things that were happening. Often I’d feel paralyzed, which prevented me from doing much creative work. 

There’s a reason I didn’t publish much in 2018.

Yet. I had made a decision. 

And introduced a significant change to how I approach information. 

I decided that I’d only invest my energy in what I could impact. 

I realized that if I dedicated all my energy to things I had the power to change instead of watching things I couldn’t directly impact, then that could lead to at least some sort of a dent in the universe, even if it was a tiny one. 

And I started feeling better. 

Now in 2020 with #BlackLivesMatter and the discussions around it, every time I’ve opened Instagram these past couple days, many of my friends and people I feel close to were posting pictures of them and their families. 

And it was the first time I realized they aren’t actually white. Just like me, they are immigrants. 

Or – even if they aren’t because they have a U.S., British, German, or Austrian passport now – their parents were, = so their skin color also impacted their lives and how some people treat them.

In a way, I’m still confused about how I didn’t realize sooner that many of the friends I admire aren’t white. Yet it also doesn’t surprise me that I’ve hardly ever paid attention to their skin or hair color. It just never meant much to me. 

And by sharing this here I know that I’m walking on thin ice. So let me explain. 

When corona hit, I started jotting down notes to produce a podcast, but I’ve also found myself writing a lot about memories I’d want to explore in a book. With #BlackLivesMatter, I was reminded of a lot that I went through as an immigrant child who, despite being white, was treated differently because of my accent, my mistakes when speaking German, my foreign name, etc. 

I moved to Austria when I was 14. I started going to a gymnasium, but because I had such a hard time speaking German and English, I was then downgraded and had to go back to elementary school. In that class, we were maybe five white kids. Skin color didn’t matter to us. We all had a story. We all had our baggage. We were all equal. 

We were also all equally “bad.” And from the perspective of our teachers, we had only a very small chance of succeeding in life by societal standards.

“How can I teach you history when you don’t even understand German?!” 

“You probably won’t manage to keep up with kids in high school; you might want to look for something less demanding.” 

The worst part about our lives back then? 

We were surrounded by people who told us what we can’t do instead of helping us see what we could do. We didn’t have people paying attention to our special talents. And we didn’t have people teaching us to widen our horizons and be hungry and determined to get there and take the time to explain to us how we could manage. 

Our own teachers. 

When it comes to #BlackLivesMatter, the situation in the U.S., the UK, France, and the Netherlands (as far as I’m aware of) compared to continental Europe is a very different one. I didn’t grow up with where people traded people of color as slaves. And, as far as I’m aware, no one in the countries I consider home – which is Austria and the Czech Republic*** – got compensation for their loss when slave trade was forbidden and they had to free their imprisoned servants. That’s just disgusting. And must be systematically changed.

But even systemic racism starts with personal racism that goes beyond skin color. 

Where I grew up, migrants had left their homes because of war or because they were trying to escape the lack of opportunities and vital spirit of the post-communist world. 

The people I met (and my father) were all looking for a better future for themselves and their children. 

The father of my best friend when I was 15, for example, escaped Iran. Somehow he managed to bring his family to Austria, too. We never talked about it, really. Ghazal, my friend, had her story. I had mine. And we were happy talking about boys and fashion. Her family treated me like family. They treated me like an equal, and I treated them like one, too. 

In the past, I’ve met people who denied access to events, opportunities, or people to me and people close to me or even access to strangers I’ll never know because they weren’t native speakers, because they had a dark skin color, because of many reasons… 

Some years ago, I applied for a role as a PR manager at an agency, and the recruiter who rejected me forgot to remove the conversation with her client from the email she sent rejecting my application. He emailed her that he wasn’t interested because German wasn’t my mother tongue. I had graduated with distinction in German. But he didn’t care. I wasn’t a suitable candidate. Just like that. 

But then again, I’ve met people who have given me chances, who have believed in me, and who have looked out for me. And I am sure people of color, even if I just speak for my friends, can say the same. 

There have been people who complimented me on things I said or did that gave me the courage to say more. Be louder. 

There have been people who’ve given me access to events I’d never have been able to afford or even know how to enter such circles.

There have been people who offered to pay me more money than I’d asked for. 

Where we get in life is often a summary of the favors and invitations we receive from others. Nothing more. Nothing less. 

Privilege can be passed on. 

However, I really dislike the word privilege because that’s a status that cannot be changed. It’s a status you are born into or that you acquire through hard work as I have in my lifetime. Privilege is also something that separates us. 

If I say what I’m saying with this email, I’ll always be considered privileged in light of the current perspectives. Yet...there was a time. 

So what I believe matters is personal power and what one (you) decides to do with it. Power – most of all sharing it – could bring us together and lift us up if we choose to speak about privilege as a divider rather than a unifier. 

You might not be able to change the whole system. But every single one of us has power that we can share with others. Regardless of their color or where they are from.

It’s natural to seek out friendships with people similar to us. Whether it’s education, body shape, or a similar path in life that makes us feel connected to them. I remember, as long as I had a Czech accent, whenever I’d enter a group people would say to me: “Oh, yes. My grandmother was from Bohemia, too!” That was the similarity people felt safe with and that seemed to be the qualifier to welcome me into that circle. 

Of course, it’s easier to enter a circle as a human being who’s coming alone. 

Because as a single human being I wasn’t scary. My story could be broken down, contextualized, and people could find a similarity with me in some way. 

I mean, there’s a reason why it’s easier to meet and mingle with locals when traveling alone compared to when traveling as part of a group. 

In no way do I say it’s fair. 

But what I do say is that you can change the life of one person, two, maybe ten people. 

Simply by sharing encouraging words.

By bringing them to a party with you and introducing them to people who might elevate them professionally or personally.  

The past few weeks have made me, and I guess many others, feel helpless. 

And so I felt it was time for me to think about what I had decided on in 2017. 

Instead of losing my mind over all the things I cannot influence (besides signing petitions and voting for the people who reflect my values), I can focus on the things I can influence. 

And that’s powerful. And goes beyond privilege, too.

*** I do want to acknowledge here that as of now the Czech Republic is the third-worst European country when it comes to human trafficking and slavery: https://www.radio.cz/en/section/marketplace/czech-republic-ranked-as-europes-third-worst-slavery-haven