Sweetening the chocolate-chip on my shoulder

Privilege is a hard word to discuss.  Reactions range from ignorance to passionate HULK RAGED soapboxes.  Some people can’t seem to stop talking about it and others seem to have a knee jerk, opposing response to the entire concept at all.  It’s loaded word and it seems people who do benefit from privilege take it on as an accusation.  I’d have to say for a long time I was one of them.

Since I anticipate I’ll be writing a lot more about these topics in the future, I guess I just wanted to deal with the elephant in the room and acknowledge that I am very, very privileged.   I also have had a lot of very real, scary, nasty life experiences.  Here’s the thing—while I am a woman and there are a number of what I’ve come to understand are termed “micro” and “macro” aggressions I feel I get subjected to for having a vagina, mostly I’m favored by our culture.  I’m white.  Apparently I don’t physically look Jewish enough to most people so I “pass” for a non-jew.  I’m living comfortably financially.  All of my serious relationships have been with men so facing a reality of not being allowed to marry the significant other in my life hasn’t been my burden.  True I feel that as a woman there is a lot of male privilege out there, but as a woman I also have advantages afforded to me by society over queer/women of color.  Thus even within my own gender, there is a stratification of privilege and thus I’m divided from my “sisters”.  It’s pretty depressing right?  So who would want to have to accept that it’s real?

I also have found, when discussing privilege, that the individuals who most strongly want to deny it do so, not because they are bad people, but because they are people who have pains that blind them to it.  This hit me the other day when a man I was engaging with yet another straight-white-male-middle class-working at leisure, adamantly denied he had any privilege at all.  I made myself listen to the reasons and something finally clicked, it explained to me why for a long time I used to also respond to accusations of privilege with “Bullshit.” 

When someone who has all the vestiges of privilege, but has seen some really horrific things in their personal life, gets told how easy they have it…well that causes an understandable backlash.  You begin to feel like all the pain you carry is totally rendered insignificant because of how you look.  And then cue the accusations of reverse racism.  The feeling that you are being “punished” for your appearance because OTHER people you share some arbitrary physical trait with fucked up.  So I get it.  I really do get it—why some people just can’t seem to accept that it’s possible to be both privileged and damaged.  I had a serious chip on my shoulder about it.  I AM NOT PRIVILEGED.  I had to deal with _________ growing up.  You don’t know how hard I had to work.  Don’t diminish my accomplishments.

But privilege is not an accusation of living on easy street.  It’s not an accusation at all.  Privilege does not mean you are insulated from seriously shitty things happening to you.  Privilege doesn’t mean you aren’t going to roll snake eyes in the game of life.  Privilege doesn’t mean you can’t be: lied to, manipulated, struck down by poverty, abused, molested, raped, hit by a bus, ravaged by ZomBees….  It’s just recognizing that even in those moments when life has you on your knees, if you happen to be white-straight-male(or female depending on what kind of help it is), you’re going to get more hands outstretched to help you up than you otherwise would.  It might not be a lot.  It might just mean you get one hand instead of none.  It might be a bus driver who lets you get away with having too little change; the movie attendant who doesn’t question that you lost your ticket; the chance to get into line to meet Joss Whedon even after not winning the raffle.  Would all of those things have still happened for me if I weren’t a white, blonde, culturally approved girl?  Maybe but maybe not.  Should I feel bad that they did?  No.  Should I recognize how lucky I am, that others might not get them, and work to make sure that in life I don’t just assume others can slip through those situations like I did? Definitely yes.

But that’s the thing about privilege.  It’s not always a flashing neon sign.  It’s a bunch of little things that you won’t even notice if you are too absorbed by your own shit to notice. I couldn’t find a way to make peace with that until I started to heal and let go of the all the hurts and experiences of my own past.  Desire to better understand this privilege I’d been told I had, perhaps even to disprove it existed, helped me learn to heal and move on from the things that had been keeping me from seeing it.   I had to stop carrying my pain, my past instances of victimization, like it gave me a special pass.  So now that’s what I challenge others who would reject the topic of privilege to do as well—it will not only help you dialogue with people, but it will help you.

Pistachio Milk-Chocolate Chipped Cookies

An Olivia Original

• 1 cup all purpose flour
• ½ cup oat flour
• ½ tsp salt
• 1 ½ tsp baking powder
• ½ cup unsalted butter, room temperature
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• ½ cup light brown sugar
• 1 large egg
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• ¼ tsp pistachio extract (optional if you have it)
• Zest from 1 orange
• 1 cup chopped pistachios
• 1 cup chopped milk chocolate

In a medium bowl whisk together both flours, salt and baking powder.  Set aside.

In a large bowl (of your stand mixer) rub together the zest and granulated white sugar until moist and fragrant.  Mix in the brown sugar and then add the butter.  Cream the sugars and butter for about 2-3 minutes on high until light and fluffy.

Add the egg and extracts—reduce the speed to medium-high and beat for another two minutes.  Switch to low and add in the dry ingredient mix until incorporated.

Turn off the stand mixer and by hand stir in the chocolate and pistachios.  Put the dough in the fridge and chill for two hours or overnight.  (Chilled dough prevents spreading on the pan and makes better, chewy chunky cookies which is how I like these)

When ready to bake: Preheat oven to 350F – Line two large baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats.  Scoop out the cookies using a medium sized scoop and spread about 2 inches apart.

Bake for 12-15 minutes just until the edges start to set.  Let the cookies go longer toward 15 minutes if you prefer a little crunch or take them out sooner to cool if you want really soft, chewy cookies.