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Parenting, Privilege, and Being Cancelled

Recently, I posted an ill-advised late-night rant about parenting and privilege, and earned the dubious honor of being Twitter's main character for a while. The crux of my position was that people who do not raise children are benefitted by a form of privilege which largely goes unacknowledged. I was spurred to post this rant upon seeing a conversation where of someone responded to a parent's discussion of their challenges raising a young child while also transitioning to working from home, with the comment that they understand because they have pets, which are "basically children".

First, popping off with a rough draft rant when I'm struggling to sleep is never a good idea. I know that. I did it anyway. That was dumb.

Second, parenting is obviously a sensitive topic (hell, it's sensitive to me, that's how I got there), and despite some casual nods to some issues tangential to the one I was focused on, I did not give it the care and attention that such a sensitive topic merits.

Those were mistakes I made, for which I have no excuse or justification. I am sorry for the harm caused by my colorful characterization of parenting, the struggles it entails, and the dismissiveness I showed towards pet ownership.


I often forget that when you have more than 10-20 thousand twitter followers, many will interact with you as more of a brand identity than a real person. I tend to post pretty raw thoughts and feelings to Twitter, and have gotten a lot of value out of sharing and discussing those ideas with friends and strangers. Unfortunately, once something is deemed a Nuclear Bad Take, the good faith disagreements are quickly drowned out by thousands of people who show up for the outrage lulz.


sure is a lot of words to say you hate your kid

There were many iterations of this one. This is probably the least offensive.

For starters, I love my kid. I said that a bunch of times in the thread, and I wouldn't have such a hot spot for this issue if I didn't.

I don't regret being a parent. The polyanna "everything is bliss" image of parenting is toxic and harmful, and I'm not saying I don't ever miss the relative ease and comfort of my days before being a father. But that ease will come back, and in the meantime, I have this unfathomably wonderous opportunity to witness and relate with the person who I love more than I would have ever thought possible. It's a bargain, and if I could go back in time and change my decision, I'd play it exactly the same way every time.

Without all this extra work, my kid wouldn't exist, and the world without them is not a world I'd want, now that I know this one is possible.

I'm not angry at my kid for being born. But I am angry. I'm angry at the world for so casually taking the extra work for granted. I'm angry at our government for letting covid-19 spread unchecked, so we're still sheltering in place. I'm angry at the lack of care being taken to ensure she and her generation can grow into a world that is more just and sustainable than the one we got from our parents and grandparents.

And, I'm angry at the ways in which parents' struggles in the current society are so routinely dismissed, minimized, and trivialized. It wasn't great pre-covid. It's impossible now.

While I might've one day been more comfortable just taking the risk and being more social, like the rest of society seems to be doing, being a parent colors every lifestyle choice. I can't risk my kid losing a parent. Not now. Not yet.

So we're on round the clock parenting duties, trading off in 4 hour blocks so we don't get too burned out, trying to figure out how to fill in the hole left by the loss of our kid's friends, teachers, and whole extended social sphere. We can't do it.

Parents are not ok. Our kids are getting the shit end of this bargain, and it's not fair.


having a child is a privilege

This objection is clever word play, but doesn't say much, at least in the ways that most people tossing out this comeback meant it.

Yes, I would of course agree it is "a privilege" to have the opportunity to parent my kid and build this relationship with them as they grow. But it is not "a form of privilege", in the sense of being "a special, unearned advantage or entitlement, used to one's own benefit or to the detriment of others" [1].

That said, there are two specific social privilege dynamics that I will address later, whereby those who raise children are afforded social privilege over those who do not.


that's not privilege, you CHOSE to be a parent

This is an objection that I was most interested in digging into, and was discussing with a few folks, prior to the arrival of a shouting mob.

This one, I think, is not just wrong, but belies a deeper misconception about the nature of oppression and privilege.

Privilege and oppression are not somehow "in you". There is no law in the universe that says white people get all the power and money, and black people get every obstacle thrown in their path, up to and including murder by agents of the state. All these dynamics of power and oppression happen becuase we in society make them happen.

Privilege is not something you're somehow born with. I was born with white skin, but I wasn't born with white supremacy. I was born a baby. The privilege afforded to me and to my parents and grandparents, at the expense of others, was afforded to us by society, through mores, institutions, laws, and so forth.

The yoke of oppression is placed on a person; it is not a part of them.

Whether one choses to join that oppressed group, or found themself there involuntarily, the privilege/oppression dynamic is the same.

Oppression is imposed. Privilege is granted. Neither is inherent in the property used for its justification.

There are three examples I'll explore to illustrate this point.


First, consider someone who is gay, and has lived all their life in a particularly queer-friendly area, like San Francisco. They of course are impacted by the fact that straight people have privileges they don't, but in their day to day life, it is rarely if ever an issue. They're out to their family, friends, and work colleagues.

Then, with the full knowledge that this will make their life harder, but for reasons that are good enough to convince them to do it anyway, they choose to move to an extremely homophobic area. Say, a beloved relative somewhere in the south eastern United States has fallen ill, and they want to be with them and care for them.

Has the homophobic oppression they experience increased? They might not have chosen to be gay, but they certainly chose to go someplace where it made a much bigger difference. And they did so knowingly, without regrets. They could leave, but not without abandoning someone who is more important to them than the hardships they currently face.

Are they allowed to be upset that their new home treats them badly? I think so.


Second, consider someone who is well aware of anti-veteran discrimination, and understands the risks of physical and psychological damage as a result of serving in the military. Nevertheless, out of an abundance of patriotism, and perhaps a promise of a path out of their current situation, they join the military and serve for several years.

They return with PTSD and some physical injuries, both of which impact their ability to function as they used to. On top of their challenges interacting with the built environment, of the society around them, they find that the political climate has changed, and they're routinely harassed. Finding a job is harder. They have to lie on an application to get an apartment, and once the landlord finds out, they start looking for any way to justify an eviction.

This person chose to join the military. They knew the risks, and took them. Do they suffer discrimination and oppression as a result? I think so.


Third, consider someone who, unlike a majority of queer people, has some degree of self-directed flexibility in their sexual preference. (Many bi+ people report this, though nowhere near all.)

After considering it carefully, they decide that they wouldn't be satisfied unless they looked beyond that door in their heart, and so even though just going along with the status quo expectation of straightness would be in some sense easier, they start to actively explore their queerness. Over time, they develop meaningful romantic and sexual relationships outside of the heteronormative mixed-gender default.

Of course, as a result, they are also subjected to biphobia, and face discrimination both within and outside the LGBTQ+ community.

For many queer people, being queer literally is a choice. Their flexibility may be inherent, but their choice to explore it was certainly not guaranteed.

Are they subject to biphobia and homophobia, even though it was a choice?


The purpose of these examples is not to suggest that "being a parent" is the same as being homosexual in a homophobic society, or an injured veteran, or flexibly bisexual. Every form of oppression is different and unique, but what they have in common is that they are unfair advantages afforded to members of one group, at the expense of members of another group.

There is a valid point that privilege isn't something you can "give away". It's tempting to think you can't give it away because you can't change your skin color or wish away a disability or convert a sexual preference. But the real reason you can't give it away is the same reason that the oppressed cannot "opt out" of their oppression once imposed. It's not yours to give.

Oppression is imposed. Privilege is granted. They don't ask permission.

The only way to "give back" privilege is the liberation of all people. When there is no oppression, there is no privilege, and we can live in a just society that cares for and protects us all fairly.

Until then, whether you choose to join a disenfranchised group, or just show up by accidents outside your control, the sociatal privilege/oppression machine will process you based on your membership in a group. How you got there usually doesn't matter.


Parenting