Opus 2022-231: One Small Step for Privilege

As I walked this morning I was reminiscing on my “white privilege.”  

My parents were  both products of the Great Depression, but lets go back a little further than that.  My dad had polio as a kid.  Because of the generosity of non-government charities he was given the latest treatments and surgery.  He came out able to walk but had a severe limp all his life.  If he had been through this today he would have had social workers and counselors who would have messed him up and turned him into a victim.  Since he lived in a different time he buckled down and went back to work.  He would definitely qualify as handicapped.  

He also qualified as a role model.  We never had much money but we were not deprived.  My white privilege included patches on the knees of my non-Levi denims.  They were ironed on to cover the holes, not as a fashion statement.  I remember the Christmas my brother and I got one toy between us.  I assume my parents had a little talk with my older brother because it seemed to automatically become mine.  It was used but who cared.  One of the big menu items at our house was bread and gravy.  I thought it was because we liked it.  In reality it was because it was cheap.

Just a small window but a record of the blessings and opportunities that are available to anyone who wants them.

homo unius libri