I'm privileged

This past month has been jam-packed with emotional roller coasters, tears of joy and anger, and seemingly sunny days that eventually turn into dark nights (that's a metaphor for days that start off really awesome but then just suck at the end. Just to clarify.) I've concluded two things: the first is that the city clogs my pores, it seeps under my skin and burns my eyes, it leaves a distinct smell in my clothes and assaults my senses to the point of overdrive which leads to a crash. The second is that I'm pretty privileged.

Okay, let's unpack both observations.

First. The city. I was walking around the other night and there is this market happening on the sidewalk. Let's paint the picture: sellers are calling out prices and haggling with passerby's, booths overflow with leather purses, woven belts, cigarettes, sex toys, tacky souvenirs, ironic english shirts, and household goods, florescent lights flicker overhead, and crowds of people push past each other trying to make it to their desired destination. It's a constant assault of sounds and people and smells and lights. And it's exhausting. I don't have the language to describe how it feels to be herded along a packed sidewalk with tourists, students, families, and street vendors. Everyone breathes the same air and shares the same personal space. After a short walk around downtown, I was ready to go home, back into my room that's quite and controlled and safe, which is part of a house with a gate and locks and windows that open and there's A/C and water that's safe to drink.

A daytime market, which goes on for miles. Or kilometers, depending on your preferred system of measurement.  

Which leads to the second observation: I'm pretty privileged.

Right now, and for the whole time I'm here in Thailand, I'm living on a literally only needs based budget with a little room for treats like a message (they're like $4 here so....) or a fancy, non-street food dinner. Doable. Not fun, but doable.  However, unlike some people who live on a needs based budget out of, well, true need, I'm voluntarily doing it AND I have a safe space to life. I'll go into more about the budget/money thing later, but I want to talk about safety right now.

Being safe is a privilege. Knowing you can go home, however you identify that, and not be beaten, yelled at, in risk of being shot or threatened is a privilege not given to many. Living in a house that is sturdy, has clean water, a window, and rooms is a gift. Being surrounded by people who know and accept and support you is a blessing. These basic "rights" that I'm so accustom to are actually not rights but privilege. Pulling up to my house after a long day or after school or after going to run errands provides peace. I can slide open the gate, bike down the driveway, and block the sights, smells, and sounds of the city. Even more so, I am thankful for a safe house, a safe space.

So, take time to recognize the privilege of your safety, and identify how others around you may not feel safe. It's a challenging exercise. In Chicago, I was safe because I'm a white, educated female who lived on the North side and held a steady job. I feel safe here in Bangkok because I am a middle class, white, American. Most likely I won't have to worry about having an official ask about my passport status and men won't holler at me. These two measures of safety aren't offered to many residents in this city. And I can't help but think of institutions of safety that are put in place yet aren't able to protect the most vulnerable of it's citizens. I mourn about the many lives that have been lost due to police misconduct, of families evicted to the streets, the young men receive the mandatory minimum for petty drug charges, and how there just isn't any safety and it's not fair or right or just. Protests and demonstrations around America's college campuses highlight the on-going tradition institutions of safety protecting the privileged and hurting those seen as "other". And it's not okay. Safety shouldn't be a privilege.