on white privilege

I've been reading a lot online lately about white privilege. It all came back to me today when we spent an hour digging and pushing the car out of the mud. The white people around stayed in their muddy clothes and didn't wash their hands. They wanted to go into town and have a drink, covered in mud. This is something you can only do if you are white, I think, without getting looks. In any part of the world.

Our African colleagues, on the other hand, weren't digging through the mud in the first place, and they certainly washed their hands.

I think of this often when I walk barefoot along the concrete walkway between the two office rooms. In Africa, people only walk barefoot if they can't afford shoes, or if they want to keep them from getting dirty. Me? I do it because I'm too lazy to put my gumboots back on, and because I love being barefoot.

And because I have privilege based on my passport and the color of my skin.

I'm trying to be more aware of it, and more respectful. I wear shoes most of the time. I wash my hands when they look dirty. I dress in professional clothes, not safari jackets and zip-off hiking trousers.

I don't have time to do this topic justice right now, because a visitor needs my computer. But it made me think.