Disguised Success: A Privilege of Identity

By Lauren Doll | Linguistics, French | Class of 2024
Academic Term of Essay Subject: Fall 2020

Prize Winner

For the majority of my life, my educational experience has been marked by my determination to work as hard as possible so I could reap the benefits, whether they be grades, scholarships, recognition, or pride. My transition to college showed me many of my seemingly merited rewards are really benefits of my identity. I am white.

 I had a “typical” educational experience. I had a dad who assisted me with math homework and a mom who helped me practice my weekly set of spelling words. Motivated from a young age by notions of meritocracy, I thought success meant being the best. In the gifted program, I was surrounded by classmates who similarly worked hard. As we grew, our gifted program turned into honors, AP, and college credit courses. Our desire to get all A’s turned into aspirations of superior scores on ACTs, exams, and a top spot in our class rank. My parents began helping me with economics and zoology instead of basic math or English. By the time I graduated high school, I thought I thoroughly earned my honors, scholarships, and most importantly my spot at Miami. My parents were proud of me, and I was proud of myself.

Before coming to Miami, I was excited for all the new opportunities and experiences I would encounter. I knew college would help me find my identity. I didn’t realize it would help me learn about others’ identities as well. Miami’s frequent training, lectures, and efforts to keep diversity discussions prominent and pertinent opened my eyes about my own life living as a student of dominant culture.  

I recall telling a high school teacher that if I were him, I would give every student who had missing or late work a zero on each assignment. “They should’ve been more responsible in completing their work,” I said. He brushed away my comment saying it wasn’t exactly that simple. I shrugged and sat down for class. Looking back, I realize the story I believed about meritocracy is a lie. I had married parents, both with master’s degrees and well-paying jobs. I lived comfortably in the middle class with a house in a safe neighborhood. I had a car with gas and insurance paid for. I didn’t have a job after school. I had time and resources to do homework. I had the choice whether or not to study before each test. I could afford to take the ACT as many times as I wanted. I am white. My 35-point ACT, perfect GPA, and even valedictorian position were almost benefits of the luck of being born into the “right” family. With all things given to me, how could I possibly think I earned these, and others just did not try hard enough?

What I thought was hard work was really a product of decades of systematic hierarchies of power working in my favor, almost guaranteeing my success. Coming to Miami helped me realize that my high school classmates that I thought were poor students were students impacted by a number of issues such as poverty, minority status, or family issues, not just lazy students. I never considered that homework and studying are not priorities when you care for siblings or work a job and your parent(s) are working multiple jobs to pay for enough food. Their parents may not even speak English or care to help them with school issues.

In my first semester, Miami showed me how underprivileged and minority students are fighting against battles that I have never experienced. I learned many rewards I thought I was earning were already given to me as privileges of my identity. I learned the importance of constant discussion, knowledge, and education of social issues. I learned sympathy is not enough for social change. Even though change isn’t easy, I must be a part of it because if no one from dominant culture helps, systematic social hierarchies will only prevail.

Growing up as a student, a part of the dominant culture has given me privilege that led me to success in primary school, secondary school, and in college. I am fortunate to have learned about my privilege stemming from my identity and have decided to use this to become a teacher who teaches a new generation of students who understand their identities and how they intersect with issues of equity, equality, privilege, and power. I want my students to understand systematic policies that promote social hierarchies and help them become agents of change.