‘I used to think that privilege was the same as posh. But it’s about far more'

Am I privileged? Am I looking at that situation from a place of privilege? Would I look at the nightly news with a different perspective if I lived elsewhere or had a different background or education?

I used to think that privilege was the same as posh. But it’s about far more than money.

Living in Ireland most of us grew up with assumptions. We assumed we would receive an education. It’s not a perfect system and we rightly grumble about aspects of it. But the expectation that education is a right, not a privilege, is itself a privilege. Millions of people globally are denied access to education. They don’t get to complain about class size, curriculums or college fees. We complain because we can, because we were taught how.

Living in a democracy is definitely a privilege. We can vote, protest, and speak openly. When we apply to be included in the register of elections we don’t even contemplate the notion that we might be rejected due to our gender or race.

When we show up at the local national school to vote we have no fear of being arrested. We are free to criticise those in power. Democracy gives us the right to complain. Education gives us the language to do it well. Privilege allows us to forget how extraordinary both of those things are.

But back to my original question: Am I privileged?

Well I woke up this morning in my warm bed, in my own home and made myself a hot breakfast. I am in good health and though there are a few creeks, I am able bodied. I work in an area I enjoy which pays enough to allow me to go on holidays, and enjoy small pleasures.

I have a large enough garden to grow vegetables and keep a few hens. I walk my dog every day without fear. If I hear a drone overhead I think it’s annoying rather than something to fear. These are ordinary things to me but not to everyone.

I know that the life I live is not a given. For many, home is not secure. A drone overhead is not an annoyance but a threat.

Health, work, food, peace of mind, are not small things, they are everything, and they are not enjoyed by everyone equally. Should I feel guilty? Feeling guilty won’t help anyone. It’s better to listen to and learn from others without assumptions

A good example of this is the current narrative around ultra processed foods (UPFs). Social media is full of people running around supermarkets or petrol stations pointing out UPFs, reading lists of ingredients. Concern around these foods is valid. But too often, the commentary is full of judgement.

I know that the life I live is not a given. For many, home is not secure. A drone overhead is not an annoyance but a threat. Health, work, food, peace of mind, are not small things, they are everything, and they are not enjoyed by everyone equally

It assumes time to cook, money to choose differently, and the confidence or education to decode labels. Many of the commentators are well meaning but how many have stood in a supermarket trying to figure out how to stretch their social welfare payment?

How many are rushing to do the grocery shopping in between picking up, dropping off kids, caring for a elderly relative or during their lunch break? The labels themselves are a struggle for many who are short sighted, short on time or have reading difficulties.

We need to stop assuming everyone has the time, money, ability and education to choose only certain foods and start listening to why they buy them.

I can enjoy life while being aware that what I have is as a result of hard work but also of luck. I can’t ignore how much was decided by where I was born, and to whom. This awareness should shape how I spend my money, how I vote, how I speak up and how I educate myself about the world and the lives of others.

But privilege can also have a different meaning to the above. We often hear people say it was a privilege to attend an event or to witness a moment.

This is about recognising fleeting, often tender and loving moments that are never guaranteed but are to be cherished. At the end of this month I will walk into a church on the arm of my son on his wedding day.

Now that’s a real privilege.