I Am Not The Majority

I am white.

That's my label.

I have no options

other than white

for paperwork,

for job applications

for anything.

There's no scholarship.

No special financial aid.

But there's "privilege."

The privilege of being called racist,

even though I'm not.

The privilege of being seen

as oppressive.

Privilege of being

"upperclass."

Hah,

I wish I was upperclass.

White is not my culture.

My roots stretch

to Scotland

and England

and Denmark

and Ireland

and many others.

My ancestors

came to this land

to seek a better life

than the oppressed one they had.

I am a mix of many cultures.

I even contain

hints of those

not of my color.

Colors that I respect.

But because of the color

that came out on top

in the soup of my beginning

by chance,

I am white.

My background doesn't matter.

My choices don't matter.

My abilities, my loves, my convictions

my needs for self-defense...

They don't matter.

As soon as I stand up

to show I'm hurt

and shoved down

and burned up

and done with privilege

my privilege is thrown in my face.

"You've always been accepted."

"You're white and pretty and perfect."

"You are the majority, you don't know what it's like."

No.

I know what it's like.

I am one.

I am a single, unique culture.

I know the Irish jigs

I know the Pioneer games

I know the depths of the city

I know the scent of horses and cattle.

I am the product

of millions of people,

thousands of cities,

hundreds of cultures,

and two parents,

all rolled into one.

My one

does not outnumber

seven billion.

I am my own culture

just as you are yours.

I am not the majority.