Privilege and Luck

During 9th Grade Diversity Day last year, we played a game that taught us about privilege: we all stood in a circle and Lauren (our facilitator from CoAction) read a sentence from a sheet of paper. If that sentence applied someone, he/she stepped into the circle. As a reminder for those of you who may have forgotten, the "privileges" weren't just about White Privilege (which was the subject of that movie we watched called Shades of Youth). The sentences included things like:

"Step into the circle if you can walk into a building without having to think about how you'll maneuver the stairs."

"Step into the circle if you have to work a part-time job to help your family pay the rent."

"Step into the circle if you can afford a new pair of shoes when you need them."

"Step into the circle if you know where you're going to sleep every night."

Playing that game again this year as a facilitator for this year's 9th grade class and then reading Night made me think about all how lucky I am. When I run Rockridge for the HRAs, I don't have to worry about being shot and trampled if I'm not as fast as my classmates. I may think that the period before lunch is hard to endure, but I'm strong enough to drag myself to the cafeteria without collapsing from undernourishment. I worry about fitting my clothes into my suitcase as opposed to praying that my one shirt will survive the winter.

Luck and privilege are such subjective concepts. What makes a person "lucky"? What about "privileged"? For example, I had a French test today, and I realized that I hadn't studied the right material about culture in Francophone countries in Africa. You could say that it was unlucky that I didn't remember all the facts I needed to, but then again, aren't I lucky to be privileged enough to be taking the test in the first place? After all, I do go to school in a mansion. As an example that's much more relevant/on the same scale as the Holocaust, on page 70 of night, the veteran inmates are scoffing at Eliezar's perception of Buna. They inform that he's "lucky to have been brought [to Buna] so late. Today, this is paradise compared to what the camp was two years ago. Back then, Buna was a veritable hell. No water, no blankets, less soup and bread. At night, we slept almost naked and the temperature was thirty below. We were collecting corpses by the hundreds every day. Work was very hard. Today, this is a little paradise" (70). Eliezar's perception of hellish conditions is tame compared to that of the veterans', and I can't begin to imagine living like Elizar did... if you can call it living, that is. Diversity Day, both this year and last year, combined with reading this memoir, doing community service, reading global news, etc. have really made me realize that luck is really a matter of perspective based on experience.