There were many things I excitedly expected to learn about and dive into on this trip– Islam, Arabic culture, history, etc.– but I never thought privilege would be one of them. I knew about the differences in this culture compared to my own. I expected gender inequality or biased treatment based on stereotypes and assumptions about westerners, but I had no idea how privilege would shape this experience for me. However, it did not shape my experience in a negative way–my experience was simply different from those who society granted privilege; however, not all people who experience the negative side of privilege are so lucky. Let me state that once more for the people in the back: not all who have experienced the negative side of privilege can say it did not negatively impact them or their experience. I was lucky. This is my experience with one specific type of privilege, not anyone else's. Further, this is a very specific context that is not oppressive, which is different from privilege in the States. My experience and understanding has been shaped by a western context. What I see as privilege here may not necessarily be so; regardless, it provided me invaluable experience to take back to the States. I think Ta-Nehisi Coates most clearly captured some of the feelings I can now understand. He said:
"When you are white [in America], you're taught that everything belongs to you. You think you have a right to everything. You're conditioned this way, it's not because your hair isn't textured or your skin is light. It's the fact that the laws in the culture tell you this. You have a right to go where you want to go, do what you want to do, be however and people have to accommodate themselves to you... I think for white people the experience [of not being able to do or say something] is very insightful. It will give you a peek into the world of what it is to be black. Because to be black is to walk through the world and watch people doing things that you cannot do, that you can't join in and do, and I think there is a lot to be learned..." -Ta-Nehisi Coates
My experience with privilege here was grounded in gender, not race, but I think the sentiment is the same. I remember watching the guys' interactions from day one; they would go out on their own, meet with random Omanis to play soccer, greet nearly anyone they wanted to, be greeted by many, wear short sleeves, and not think twice about any of it. I heard stories of past male students who went to Dubai and slept on the beach with their new Omani friends. I remember wanting so badly to experience life here like this. But my time here has been different. I didn't go out on my own or greet just anyone. While I could do these things, and it would be completely safe to do so, it's simply not culturally acceptable and I would run the risk of people getting the wrong idea about me and my character. I could wear short sleeves, but I would have to accept the stares I would receive. I would learn to smile at people sparingly– especially men. I would learn to check what I wore as I stepped out of the house. I would hesitate before agreeing to take pictures with or respond to a man when he approached me. Let me plainly state that I was never scared, I am far safer here than I am in the States, but I was aware that I was not in a position of privilege. I do not have the social license here to show my shoulders or smile at strangers or go on random trips with local friends. I watched the guys in our group walk through the world without care and acknowledged that their experience would never be mine.
Like Ta-Nehisi said, this isn't their fault. The laws and traditions of the culture grant them the right to go where they want to go and do what they want to do. Women simply are not granted the same license. In fact, it was amazing to see the difference in the women's experiences when the guys were present. We walked without interruption and received less looks. No one approached us. This showed me the power and possibility of using one's privilege in ways that help others.
I would like to clarify that this does not mean my experience was bad. Quite the contrary; my experience living in Oman is something I will always hold close to my heart and think of fondly. My experience was simply different. The women in our group worked hard to make friends. We cherished the brief moments we would greet or be greeted by other women on the street. While this could be hard at times, we deeply appreciated the security of the country and the incredible respect with which women are treated here.
Women have many freedoms here, it is simply the social license that limits them. Let it be known that I chose the word limit specifically. Social norms here, in my experience, are not oppressive. Women are not oppressed, the culture is simply different. It could be argued that women in western cultures are oppressed. The same way some look at women in Muslim majority countries and think they are being oppressed by men because they are so covered and yet, that entire paradigm could be flipped. One could look at non-Muslim majority countries and argue that women are oppressed by men because the society expects them to show so much. Further, women in the Gulf are not required to wear a hijab or abaya, they do because that is the norm. Just like we are not banned from wearing a headscarf, but the norm in our society is not to wear one. The matter at hand is not oppression, that's a separate topic. It is instead the license society gives to its members. It's the license we, as members of society, give to ourselves.
I was lucky. The privilege I encountered did not negatively impact my experience, in fact, it augmented it because it made it uniquely mine and opened my eyes to the privilege in a way I never would have understood back in the States. What does this mean for my actions when I return? First, I have been provided with the invaluable understanding of what privilege feels like, what it feels like to simply not have social license to do something and what it feels like to be completely oblivious to the reality of social license. I don't know what this means for me when I return, but what I do know is that I understand how it feels to be on both sides, something no one can even begin to understand unless they too have been there. In no way am I saying privilege here is comparable to that in the States, they are completely different contexts. But I'm still wrestling with how to best use this knowledge, and I wanted to challenge you to think about it too. What actions and freedoms do you take for granted? How do your actions limit others? Do you expect people to accommodate themselves to you?
I will leave you with this final thought: How can those of us who have privilege use it to redeem and renew?
Salaam,
Anna