I appreciate living in the middle of nowhere with nothing but rocks and cows

What a week it has been. It was just last Monday, May 25, that George Floyd, a 46-year-old African-American man, was killed by Derek Chauvin, a white police officer in Minneapolis, Minnesota. A video has been widely circulated of Chauvin kneeling on Floyd’s neck for several minutes, with three other police officers on site. Floyd repeatedly said, “I can’t breathe,” before becoming unresponsive and ultimately dying from asphyxiation.

The next day, protests began, and since then, they’ve been a daily occurrence across the nation.

Over the weekend, I encountered at least a few local people who didn’t even know protests were happening. I’ve also seen more than a few people share social media posts saying, “The more news I watch, the more I appreciate living in the middle of nowhere with nothing but rocks and cows!”

While I know the quip is meant to be lighthearted, I can’t ignore the fact that it’s a perfect opportunity to talk about white privilege.

I know, I know. White privilege is a hard topic to stomach. I say that as someone who has fought the defensive urges welling up within myself many times in the past. But as a fellow resident of our little corner of nowhere, I ask you to bear with me for the next five minutes and truly think about privilege.

I love Holyoke. I love the peaceful lifestyle it affords me. If you’re thankful to live here (or someplace similar), that’s great. But take a moment to admit that it is a privilege that you’re far enough away from police brutality and racial tensions and protests to just go about life as usual. There are people who are at the heart of the crisis, physically, that cannot ignore it. But beyond the physical proximity, there are people who, because of the color of their skin, can’t ignore the issues. They can’t continue on, life as usual, because they may be in real, physical danger. Even if they too live in a nice middle-of-nowhere place, all it takes is one instance of being in the wrong place at the wrong time to become another statistic.

That, as a white person, you can relish the chance to exercise your second amendment right and be confident in the “make my day” law if a riot shows up at your front door is a privilege. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be thankful for that right. I’m simply saying that, on paper, it may be a right for people of any skin color, but practically, wielding a gun can be an entirely different experience for a person of color. It doesn’t even have to be a real gun, either.

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