I admit, I come from a background of many advantages. I grew up in an upper middle-class family. Both of my parents work, and can afford tuition for me and my brother, family vacations, and eating out from time to time. I also identify as a cisgender male, and in the context of present day America, I have the advantage of feeling a sense of belonging to a majority that many do not feel. These advantages exemplify socioeconomic class and male privilege that provide me with access and benefits others may not have the freedom to enjoy. However, privilege also includes both advantages, or the lack of disadvantages. For example, I do not feel intimidated walking back home alone in the same way a girl my age might feel. Inherent privileges that people are born with sometimes comes with a parallel cost that disempowers others such as lower income families or women. In other words, these privileges are examples of conditions, whether earned or not, that systemically over-empower or “confer dominance” to certain groups of people (McIntosh, 1988). Therefore, the first step to navigating a world of privilege entail extending advantages, while rejecting disadvantages to groups of people. And so, I would like to share my perspective as an Asian-American male from an upper middle-class family in my high school community to illuminate my racial and class privileges.

Before I begin, I must stress the importance of intersectionality. Intersectionality recognizes that identity is lost through categorizing people. Instead, by considering how multiple identities intersect to form a new holistic identity, we will better understand another’s experiences. Identities are not additive—the categories of race and gender, for example, extend beyond simply racial plus gender experiences (Grillo 1995). As an Asian-American male, my experiences differ from solely the male identity or Asian American identity. A common stereotype is that Asian men tend to be weak, undesirable, and less masculine, which differs from say a white man or Asian woman’s experiences. In high school, I have encountered and recognized privileges that I have and the privileges of others.

I went to The Bishop’s School, a private high school in San Diego, California. My class of 140 comprised 10% East Asian and two-thirds white students. However, there were only 8 Hispanic students, which is widely disproportionate from the fact that according to the 2010 census, Hispanics number close to 40% of the Californian population (U.S. Census Bureau 2010). In addition, according to niche.com, my school ranks 295 out of 475 in terms of diversity for California high schools. Among the local public schools our school played against in sports, my school had the stereotype of being “white-washed,” meaning that in addition to the students who were racially white, the minorities at my school acted “like they were white.” I did not know what “acting white” explicitly meant, but I think that it involved race and socioeconomic class. My parents paid $30,000 a year for my high school tuition—more than double the residential tuition for the local state college (UC San Diego). As a result, The Bishop’s School had a reputation for rich, white student demographics, where rich and white became close to synonymous. Students from other schools thought that minorities were “white-washed” by our financial privilege associated with attending my school. Many of my Asian friends lived in La Jolla, an expensive sea-side largely white neighborhood rather than Carmel Valley, inland suburban neighborhoods. Our school parking lot was often called a “BMW dealership,” whereas most students at my local public schools did not have their own cars. In a way, race and socioeconomic class at my school intersected to form the narrative that everyone from my school must be wealthy, and represented White culture. The culture associated wealth and spending with being White, while lack of wealth and frugal living became associated with minorities. The stereotype of the Bishop’s student was one who not only had money, but could also spend it without concern: we bought school uniforms, drive luxury cars, and own the newest Apple product. For example, among Asians, saving money is held with high regard, demonstrating both self-control and futuristic thinking. However, when my high school required that everyone must have an iPad and laptop (to replace textbooks and provide learning applications), my identity as an Asian American appeared less genuine among students from other schools. However, I wore the same uniform clothes since freshmen year (thankfully I had reached the end of my growth spurt); I did not have a car; I had to get specific permission from the science department so that I wouldn’t need to buy an iPad. Extravagance equaled Whiteness. However, this greatly distorts the image of me and my classmates. Through their effort and work, my parents saved up money to invest in my “White” education. They had immigrated to the United States from China in 1995 with only $300 cash. My mom pursued a Ph. D degree on a scholarship, while my dad worked to support them both. After a year, they bought their first car, a small, used Toyota, which my dad boasts as his first milestone in the United States. Under the communist era and government rationing, my parents had learned to live frugally and value education above all else since only the highest scoring students could advance to a good university for a high paying job. To them, extravagance did not mean living luxuriously, but providing the best educational opportunity for me and my brother. Therefore, by reducing private school students like me to “being for rich, white folk,” this blanket narrative attacks the intersection of my identities as a 2nd generation Asian-American middle-class student. However, it even further alienates the 20% of students in my class who receives financial aid who have all kinds of racial identities whether white or not. Also, I did have financial privilege that others did not: I never needed to consider transferring schools, while several of my classmates transferred to public schools eventually due to exorbitant costs as Bishop’s was not need-blind and scholarships depended on donations. And I found it interesting that after I graduated, my school boasted across its website and magazine that the incoming freshmen class had over 50% minority, a first since the school’s founding in 1909.

Through my lens, the intersection of race and socioeconomic class identities is most apparent at my high school. But moving forward, the awareness of judgments and bias surrounding minorities and wealth in regards to education is something I have only just began to grasp. Grillo writes that through the understanding of intersectionality, prejudice and “oppression cannot be dismantled separately” (Grillo 1995). Socioeconomic class and racial background share many ties as do other different identities, but by recognizing privilege and the lack of it, I can better practice mindfulness towards those around me.

Works Cited
Grillo, Trina. “Anti-essentialism and intersectionality: Tools to dismantle the master’s house.” Berkeley
Women’s LJ 10 (1995): 16.
McIntosh, Peggy. “White Privilege: Unpacking the invisible Backpack.” (1989).