#generational privilege

[screenshot-thoughts]

“generational privilege”

[indizombie]

Smiley also highlighted “generational privilege” – the idea that social, cultural, and political privileges are passed from one generation to another, ensuring people from upper-caste backgrounds have better education and employment. Generational privilege, according to Smiley, also plays a role in determining who among transgender persons would have to resort to begging and sex work to make a living and who would be able to access better options, for example, being in the upper echelons of a Non-Governmental Organization (NGO). “I have never seen a Brahmin trans person resorting to begging,” she recounted. Dalit transgender persons are often recruited only at the bottom ranking positions in NGOs, Smiley pointed out, while upper-caste individuals control how these spaces function. According to her, when Dalit transgender persons are recruited into these organizations, they are exploited and made to work as “peer volunteers”, which means that they play no strong role in their organization and receive very little pay.

Sayantan Datta, ‘Does an Indian transgender person’s caste change their experience of being trans?’, LGBTQ Nation

[escritorian]

I had a brief argument with my brother-in-law not long ago.  I was mopping, and my niece wanted to help. It's something she likes to do, helping people with "adult" tasks, mopping in particular.  The mop is adjustable, so I say okay, and we start taking turns. She only just noticed the size adjustment mechanism, and after a brief conversation about what a good size is, she starts playing with different adjustments.  On the latest one, she reaches too far, distributes too much weight on the mop, and falls.

It's a short fall. She adjusts herself quickly, lands safely on her butt and gets up feeling very self-conscious. That's a thing with her. Slipping, tripping, falling and the like make her terribly self conscious, and she's very uncomfortable with people directing too much attention to the same little tumbles we all have while growing up.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," she answers.

"Are you okay?" Her dad asks right after.

"I said yeah already!" She barks in response, self-consciousness over her spill starting to kick in.

"I still have a right to ask!" He shouts back. He doesn't shout very loudly, his voice not properly at a shout, perhaps, but he's above conversation volume, and his tone is clearly upset. He voice was not like this when asking if she was okay.

"Is that okay with you you?! Is that a problem!? Can I ask?!" I try to send him a signal to lay off. If he catches it, he doesn't acknowledge it.

"Huh?!" He continues. His tone is verging on patronizing.

"Yes!" She shoots back, and tries to go back to mopping. At this point, her mother has heard the tone of the commotion but not the content and starts walking into the kitchen. It's becoming uncomfortably crowded.

"What's going on?" She asks.   My niece thinks the question is directed at her. The scrutiny is too much, and she runs out of the room making a sound somewhere between frustration and upset.  My brother-in-law tries to follow, but she gets to her room and slams the door shut. He walks back to the kitchen.

"Hey," I say. "It's not just about your right to ask a question. It's about how it makes her feel, too." I say, addressing the first part, meaning to get to the second part, what came after he asked that, next. I don't get a chance."

"I know that, [...]!" He shouts back. As before, his shouts aren't terribly loud, but they're louder than his normal voice and clearly upset. More upset than he was before.

"But I have a right to ask, okay?! I have a right to ask!” He walks away as he talks, and the last parts are said from almost two rooms away. I'm not convinced he actually did know. More importantly, though, I was struck by how it became about his right to ask and not about his daughter's well-being. It was about his “right” to ask and communicate on terms he was comfortable with and get responses he felt entitled to. Not only that, It was also about his "right' to communicate what he was entitled to regardless about how it made her feel.

In short it seemed about privilege. Also, about not having to admit where in the defense of his privilege he fucked up.

Now I know parents don't always have to ask only what their kids find comfortable, and I know they must sometimes push back against what their child wants and believes is fair. These instances involve, or should involve the child's welfare and/or development. It seems to me, though, that often, as was the case here, it becomes about the adult, who's greatest despair is in regards to how they feel about what the child experienced or how they responded, and not the child herself. In many ways, this reminds me of catcallers complaining about their right to greet women and much of the narrative of gamergate.

I don't know if adult privilege is a thing that has been coined, examined, or whatever, but I am more convinced than ever it is real. In fact, when I think about how " adults" have been despairing over the millennials and how feckless and blinded by their gadgets they are because we have little loyalty to political parties or employers and find technology to be a gateway to everything and remember how babyboomers inveighed against how immoral and spoiled generation Y was and how in both cases the scrutiny came without either generation that was in charge of the narrative stopping to think about WHY the generation that came after them might have been acting as a generation as they were acting instead of condemning it as bad because it made them uncomfortable, I think generational privilege up to a certain point must certainly be a thing.

[theyhaveacavetroll]

Just got done with a lovely office lunch, wherein I got to listen to my coworkers rant about how my generation (and they seem to have conveniently forgotten that it is my generation and I'm not actually their age) is entitled and spoiled and selfish.  Yes, let me tell you about how entitled I am.  I'm so entitled that I live with my mother.  Of course, I also pay for part of the property taxes and chip in for the household bills when necessary (and it's especially necessary right now).  I'm so spoiled that I horde money like a fucking dragon because I grew up with absolutely nothing and have a crippling fear of moving out or spending anything over ten dollars at a time because I know how fucking bad it can really go.  I'm so selfish that I went to a private college, which I financed myself and my mother has never paid a single dime for any of my tuition or book costs.  I'm so reckless and entitled that I lived at home during college too to save money instead of gaining my freedom via distance.  I am now paying the loans back, and the total cost per month is a little over a fourth of my income after taxes are taken out. Oh yes, I'm the entitled one.  I've worked my ass off since I was in high school, worked all through college, and managed to land a good job despite the crap economy that guess what?  I didn't help to create.  I'm not part of the generation that fucked over the entire country and ruined the environment while they were at it.  I'm not one of the ones who drove up living costs, insisted that we all get a bachelor's degree to work at fucking McDonald's, and has spent the past several decades starting pointless wars and generally doing everything they could to ensure that my generation can't do what they expect of us.

I am seriously shaking with rage right now.  I can't even express how tired I am of hearing this from people who grew up in one of the best economic climates in U.S. history and then slammed the door shut for the ones they're so intent on slandering.  And the worst part is that I have to look these people in the eyes and smile if I want to keep my job.  I am very glad that when I go home tonight, I can play Mass Effect until my eyes bleed, because I really, really need some stress relief right now.