Reflections on My White Privilege in Travel
NOTE: The perfectionist in me contemplated scrapping this whole piece because I was worried about saying the wrong thing or not communicating my sentiments sensitively enough. But I realized I need to get comfortable being called out. So if you have any criticism, lay it on me! I think it’s important we all get accustomed to being uncomfortable where these topics are concerned. After all, that’s the only way we grow, learn, and make change.
The last week has been a whirlwind has had me in a whirlwind of thought, contemplation, and frantically devouring as much information as possible around the Black Lives Matter movement. I never thought of myself as a part of the problem.
If someone had asked me a few weeks ago, if I had white privilege – I definitely would have said yes. But I didn’t understand it critically and as a concept that is intertwined in everything we do. Being ‘white’ has never factored into my identity. But that in and of itself is a big part of white privilege….never having to think about being white at all.
So if the last two weeks have taught me anything, it’s that I still had A LOT more to soak in and learn. But I’m committed to learning and examining my own white privilege.
Privilege obviously stems to all aspects of life from driving to being called in for a job interview – but I wanted to specifically look at it from the lens of travel. Since that is the theme of this blog after all – and until recently, wasn’t an area I thought about very much.
Let’s start with my upbringing. I grew up in a upper middle class, white American home. We went on vacations every year – this was a part of our tradition. We were also surrounded by families who also had disposable income and were constantly taking international vacations and exposing their children to travel at an early age. So right off the bat, I associated travel with something that everyone did and it was part of living a whole life.
As I got older, I often focused my travels on less expensive destinations and prided myself on being a great budget traveler. So much so that I often I often touted that ‘travel is accessible to anyone!’ That’s a sentiment that I now realize was very much backed by my privilege.
The truth is – people with a similar background to my own can likely travel. But not EVERYONE can.
There are people who grew up in broken homes who may live paycheck to paycheck for their whole lives, people who have been incarcerated for small crimes to survive, and others who have been disadvantaged due to centuries of injustice and systemic racism.
I grew up going to fantastic schools – our high school was one of the top 100 in the country and had parents who could afford to send me to a top tier private college. All the while, hiring private tutors anytime my grades were *MAYBE* going to dip below an A.
And I had smart, hardworking, INVOLVED parents who instilled great work ethics in me. My parents owned their own home, are still married, and we never ever had to worry about where a meal was coming from.
My mom told me that every once in a while when we were little, we’d see a homeless person and ask her if WE could ever become homeless. She would reply – absolutely not, we would never have to worry about that – with complete confidence. This was never something I had to lose sleep over.
I always assumed that I got a good job and was able to afford travel because I was a hardworking person. I deserved to live a good life with the thing that brought me joy. But the truth is, I always had a leg up due to all the aforementioned things. I was set up for success.
Affording travel is something that I now recognize is not just reflective of me – but also tied to privilege and descends back to my ancestors (granted one of my grandparents was a Hispanic immigrant, but 3 out of the 4 are white….and my mom is totally white passing).
Due to my whiteness, a restaurant owner will never look at me and wonder if I can pay my bill. Something that is not true for many other travelers of color. I’m not subjected to that kind of embarrassment or scrutiny. I just slide right into a booth and can enjoy my meal. My whiteness completely blocking out any inquiry.
Spending a lot of time in developing countries, I’ve become keenly aware of how little (if at all) the locals I meet ever leave their country. I’m exceptionally privileged to live in a country where salaries are high (for those who come from backgrounds such as mine) and our American currency is strong across the world.
As travelers, we’ll go to a place like Southeast Asia and marvel over how cheap everything is….living it up like kings. But we have to think - how could these people ever leave on these salaries? I’ve witnessed backpackers haggling with tuktuk drivers over a dollar or two and it baffles my mind. These people already have SO little and you want to argue with them over a dollar? A dollar that might mean the difference between food on the table for their family or not? The backpackers arguments are that they are overcharging us because we are tourists - but to that I would say - SO!? We are visitors in their home and come from countries where a dollar means much less to us than it does to them….they should benefit from us enjoying their country.
Being a white girl holding an American passport, I also benefit from passport privilege. Again, this is something I had never thought about until recently. I met a girl from Iran and was surprised to learn about all the places she couldn’t visit. I also heard stories from a girl about the difficulties of traveling with her boyfriend who held and Indian passport.
My American passport allows me to travel pretty much anywhere without issue. And I can do so quickly – without waiting months for a visa.
When I go thru security, no one ever suspects that I’m a terrorist due to my religious beliefs. Or when I pass immigration screenings, no one questions me suspiciously about illegally moving to the country. I hand over my passport, tell them if I’m here for business or pleasure and am on my way.
I have met so many travelers on the road who are working in Southeast Asian countries illegally – who just hop over and do a “border run” each time their visa is running out. These kids generally hold passports from Europe, Australia, Canada or the US and would never be considered illegal immigrants…..the way a Hispanic mother working in the US and sending money back home to her family in Honduras would be. Instead of being labeled an undocumented worker and subjected to dehumanizing treatment, these kids are seen as nomads, backpackers, or gap yearers.
Being a white American, I’m also not subjected to microaggresions while traveling.
In case you aren’t familiar the term microaggressions – here’s the definition from Psychology Today:
Microaggressions are the everyday verbal, nonverbal, and environmental slights, snubs, or insults, whether intentional or unintentional, which communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative messages to target persons based solely upon their marginalized group membership.
A white woman is never going to turn around and look at me nervously in an alley, hugging her purse closer to her body - making me feel like I’m a criminal just for walking down the street.
No one is going to ask me where I’m reallyfrom when I say I’m American (the way they will with an African-American, Asian-American, Indian-American, etc) – making me feel like an imposter.
No one is every going to complement my English when I say I’m American because I’m white and look like what they expect an American to look like (the way they might with an American of another racial background) – making me feel like I’m not a real American.
People aren’t going to question my hair texture or ask if I really NEED sunscreen. Often times these questions aren’t coming from a mean place – but they do still make a person feel as if they don’t belong. As a white American, I belong by default.
Being white, I’m also not going to experience overt racism that so many POC face all over the world.
I’m never going to be turned away from a restaurant due to the color of my skin (this happened to my black friends when they were in Munich) or have someone call me a derogatory, racist name.
I can’t fathom how it feels to be in someone’s shoes who is the subject of blatant, cruel racism. It hurts my heart to think there are people like that out there. And if I ever hear about it – I’ll certainly do what I can (i.e. write a scathing review for the Munich restaurant aforementioned). But I know nothing I do can fully make up for the hurt instilled.
Lastly, I should also mention that I’m a white travel blogger in a space that is largely dominated by white people.
I’m privileged to not be an outlier in my own field. I will never be tokenized when I participate in brand campaigns (or be excluded entirely). Not to mention when it comes to fees, the color of my skin doesn’t lead to a lower offer. This is something I’m planning to think about and take into account when accepting brand offers in the future – checking who they have worked with in the past, if they hire diverse, have marginalized minority groups in the past, etc.
I know there’s nothing I can do about the color of my own skin….but I can educate myself on the experiences of others abroad and be more aware of these discrepancies when talking about travel. I also set up monthly donations to an organization that provide travel experiences to youths growing up in low income communities, Take Flyte (founded by Nomadic Matt).
Now that I have started examining my own white privilege, I won’t stop. And I’ll continue to use my platform, voice, and wallet to help be a part of the solution.
If you want to read more about traveling as a POC here are a few articles I recommend:
What Being Black & Abroad Means to Me
Traveling While Brown: Journeys in Privilege, Guilt and Connection
What Traveling with Nine People of Color Taught Me About White Travel Privilege
If this piece spoke to you, I’d love for you to share it! Along with any of the other articles I referenced.