Class After Class

The end of the semester or, if you rather, the beginning of summer quickly approaches for some and arrived days ago for others. As I enjoyed the rare but welcome beautiful weather on my campus today, droves of college students packaged their dorm rooms into U-Haul’s, vans, and trailers. I noticed how obvious class can become once class is over. The socioeconomic status of university students was either proudly on display or nervously concealed. Two young men stuffed their 1993 Ford Contour to the brim with their worldly possessions while, 20 feet up the block, a $70,000 Ford F-150 Special Edition towing a $6,000 car trailer was carefully loaded.

This observation seems superficial, sure, but I can’t help but wonder how ones college experience may be influenced by family wealth or lack thereof. Surely, the college you can afford to attend (and be admitted to) involves money, but what are the more subtle outcomes? Does the possession-based popularity from high school slip into the first years of college? Do the ‘cool’ kids wear name brands in college? Does it still matter what you wear? Does the dorm room with the biggest flat screen or the surround sound still attract the most people? Do some students struggle to afford books while others beg for a new Xbox 360 game?

These small indications, as I’ve said before, tend to culminate into a lifetime shaped by class or status. We know that the most important indicator of the socioeconomic status one maintains over a lifetime is the level of status into which one was born. So it seems the student riding home in that Cadillac can look forward to owning her own one day.

Identities and Privileges: Examining My Advantages

When I look at my resume, I see achievements and successes resulting from my own hard work, perseverance, and desire to succeed. This is what I want to find. While those characteristics are important, I cannot help but wonder how my identity factored in to my opportunities to acquire and develop skills, which cultivated further opportunity. This is somewhat more difficult and certainly less desirable to uncover.

Each person is composed of multiple identities and thus belongs to multiple groups. These groups, dominant or subordinate, can contribute in either a positive or negative way to the life of each individual claiming membership.

For example, a Black male identifying as heterosexual is a member of a subordinate group in U.S. race culture through identifying himself as a person of color. However, he is a member of the dominant group (and thus gains those privileges) in terms of sexuality (by being heterosexual) and gender (by being male). While he may face the structural disadvantages of being a person of color, he stands to gain privileges afforded only to males and heterosexuals. The list goes on.

Lets pretend this man is from a wealthy family. He also stands to gain the advantages that follow wealth. If he was lower class, he would be disadvantaged because of it. Moreover, his membership in two substantial subordinate groups  (being a person of color and being lower class) exacerbate the disadvantages he may face and irritate a host of new stereotypes on which he may be judged.

My point is that each of us claim more than one identity. The culmination of these identities play a key role in life outcomes. Contemplating identities has forced me to examine my own.

Identities I claim:

  • White
  • Male
  • Heterosexual
  • Able-bodied
  • Middle-class
  • Non-religious
  • Fit/Healthy
  • Educated
  • Young
  • College student

The identities above in bold I believe contribute positively to my life because, in my culture, that group holds power.

The three in red are the most influential.

Those not bold place me in a subordinate group.

I have management experience in the restaurant industry. I started as a line cook, was promoted to server, and later became a manager. I was hired through a family connection at the restaurant. Would I have made it out of the kitchen (and received a substantial pay increase) if I was Black? Maybe. Would I have been promoted if I was a woman? Would a man, although less qualified, have been promoted over me? If I was wheelchair-bound, would I have become a server?  These are examples of critical crossroads in my life where my membership in dominant cultural groups may have provided me with somewhat unearned opportunity.

How will my experience as a manager benefit me in the future? It has the potential to create further benefits or what I’ll call stacking opportunities. Perhaps this experience, which I may never have had the opportunity to earn, is a deciding factor in a hiring decision later. Perhaps a career is opened up to me through this experience in combination with my other skills, experience, and membership in dominant groups. How might those experiences lend themselves to my success? How do my unearned advantages snowball into achievement?

While listing these identities, I could not help but notice their permanence. Arguably, the most important identities in our culture are race, class, and gender. All three are nearly permanent. All three place me in the dominant group. When I find myself in the subordinate group by being young, a college student, and non-religious, how permanent are these factors? Two of three will change quite quickly. The other is by choice, unlike race, class, or gender.

What sort of unearned advantages have I already accumulated? How will these work to my benefit in the future? If one or more of my identities were different, how would my resume be different?