|
|
 |
Andrea Park on "The Straitjacket Called Privelege"
March 30, 2007
|
“REMEMBER, WITH GREAT power comes great responsibility,”
said the dying Uncle Ben to young Peter Parker. Yes,
Parker was eventually successful in applying these
immortal words to his veiled occupation as Spider-Man,
superhero extraordinaire, but how can, and should, Uni
students take Uncle Ben’s proverb to heart?
Let’s face the facts. A number of Uni High students are
either well-to-do, very well-to-do, or very, very
well-to-do. Being children of doctors, professors,
businessmen, or lawyers does, in fact, put us in the
very upper crust of the world socioeconomically. It’s
obvious that more money equals more opportunities.
What’s not so obvious to such teenagers is what to do
with this privilege.
A pair of underwear I got from Victoria’s Secret’s Pink
collection had the phrase “Prestigious and Privileged”
in fancy gold letters printed on them. My underwear,
surprisingly, brings up a question that many Uni
students face at least once in their high school
careers: Because I am privileged, is it my duty — my
responsibility — to be elite?
Personally, being one of the privileged Uni-goers, I
feel obligated, or responsible, to do my best and try to
be the best, which may account for my extreme
overachiever attitude and approach to life.
It’s a combination of some parental pressure and
internal drive — I was lucky enough to be born into a
family that doesn’t have to worry about money, so I
should do something great with the blessings that come
along with it. (“Something great,” of course, being
defined as getting into a super elite college and
eventually becoming a respectable, moneymaking
professional.)
But lately I’ve realized that one-hit pop wonder Stacie
Orrico actually had something to say when she sang,
“There’s gotta be more to life.” Because I was given
opportunities that the average child would never dream
of having, do I have to follow the path that leads to
retirement at the age of 58? Taking it a step further,
do I have to do, or be, anything extraordinary at all?
It’s not like I’m going to drop out of school tomorrow
and become a Parisian bohemian, but I’m realizing that
for my entire life my eyes have been dead-set on being
elite, and I’m wondering what it would be like if I
didn’t have these ambitions. Wouldn’t life be much
easier and maybe a little bit more enjoyable?
As a part of being privileged, students at Uni subject
themselves to an intense lifestyle. Not only do we have
to worry about “normal teenager” stuff, like peer
pressure and fitting in, we also have to worry about
maintaining a certain GPA, getting into a good college,
and ultimately being “successful.”
Being “successful” in our economically well-off and
socially intellectual society has already been defined
as being a high-paid professional. So being privileged,
I feel as if it’s my responsibility to become one of
these powerhouses.
But what if my definition of success doesn’t align with
our society’s definition? Does it make me a failure?
What if I want to become a club team swim coach? My
Aquachief swim coaches are extremely positive influences
on the lives of the girls on my team, but they are
hardly paid above minimum wage. I would certainly not
categorize them as failures. If I were to follow in
their footsteps, does that fulfill my responsibility as
a privileged person? I think most would deem me as
someone who never reached her potential.
So maybe our entire elite and privileged culture
shouldn’t be so rigid about its definition of success.
Maybe kids who are born into this culture shouldn’t feel
pressured to perform and pursue the professional
endeavors of their parents. And most importantly, we
shouldn’t feel ashamed of doing, or becoming, something
that our society considers a failure.
Perhaps Uncle Ben is right in saying, “With great power
comes great responsibility.” But we should keep in mind
that this “responsibility” should be a very fluid
concept. |
|
|
|
 |
|
Listen
to the commentary: RealAudio