I am White

I have been struggling with with the class system recently. I mentioned it awhile ago, but it keeps coming.

“For Thais, as soon as you meet someone, you must establish status” – a friend aptly explained.

The former prostitute is looked down on by the maid.

The maid will not eat at the table with the family she serves, unless specifically invited. But then she gets up when the blind begger girl is invited to join, too.

A boundary was crossed.

But the architect can marry the secretary and raise a very classy family.

“What kind of car do you drive in America?”

“I went to [xyz]school in the UK.”

Oh, I don’t know that university.

“It’s one of the top ten!!”

I am sorry….I never cared?

There is a way to treat everyone with dignity, still be High Class and command respect.

I want to be that person. My employer is that person and I admire him for it. Right now, I am thrust to the forefront of the class system. Not because I have money, but that is assumed. I speak English, and I am white.
 
It’s reverse Racism. I am not, nor will I ever be, mistreated: Because I am assumed to be wealthy, well-educated and my skin separates me so very far from the working class. I am honored.

Yet, by honoring me, someone else is slighted, pushed to the side, ignored or unwanted. I don’t mind the attention, per se. Who would? I mind that it was handed to me without a question asked. Amongst my bosses, I can see them watching me and slowly – a bit of this respect has been earned. But really, my treatment – my status – was determined the moment my creased eyelids and lilly-white skin was seen. Unless I am cruel, I cannot lose my status. And if I am cruel – well I am the one who has the freedom to pass out such treatment. I am white.

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