White Picket Fences, by Amy Julia Becker

Amy Julia Becker's book White Picket Fences: Turning Toward Love in a World Divided by Privilege has such a nice title. . . but I don't buy into her argument.  She is in the school of thought that takes the short step from white privilege to white guilt.  She grew up in a world of privilege that the vast majority of white people would recognize as rare privilege: generational wealth, boarding school, Ivy League education, and all the social and career opportunities those things bring.  Like a lot of wealthy white liberals, she retains a hearty sense of guilt for the unfairness of it all.

Her experiences have been tempered by some of her life's circumstances.  She is a Christian, and sees her background and position as a part of who she is as a Christian.  She undoubtedly has a deep faith which informs her life and perspectives.  As a mother of child living with Down syndrome, her views on privilege have certainly expanded.  Like any parent of a child living with a disability, she quickly recognized the ways which society's structures work against the child's success.

As much as I admire and respect Becker's desire to live faithfully and to use her position and, yes, privilege to serve others, her views on race and privilege don't relate to most of the rest of the world.  I am grateful and blessed by the time and place of my birth, by the love and stability of my family, by the experiences I have had in my education, career, community, and church.  I don't feel guilty that other people have not had the same experiences.  I don't think I have to apologize for any of it.  I do believe that the point of life is to live for Christ and live for others, no matter where you started from.  I recognize that life is hard and unfair for some people all the time and for some people all the time.

I don't know Becker at all.  I suspect I would like her a lot.  But I really didn't like the premise of her book.  I tired of the apologetic, self-condemning tone of it.  She writes, for example, "Our affluence . . . fences us off from other people.  We can afford to pay for the 'best' of everything . . . and in so doing, we don't interact much with people who can't afford those opportunities.  Unless we consciously choose for it not to, affluence cordons us into relationships with other people with wealth."  She writes about their idyllic little New England town, where her husband is headmaster at an elite boarding school.  I want to tell her, don't feel bad!  You don't have to purge yourself and apologize for the path your life has taken!

At one point, I thought she sounded rather ungrateful.  While she and her husband celebrated all the seemingly providential ways it worked out for him to get his current job, the exact sort of position he had hoped for, she began to doubt herself.  It wasn't providence, she thought, it was privilege.  His getting the job was just a matter of the privileged education he had, the privileged circles he ran in, and the privilege of his birth. 

I guess I'm simply not comfortable taking God out of the equation of my life's circumstances.  I don't need to feel guilty or ashamed of my background, things over which I have not control.  I can't choose my parents or the place of my birth.  I can't choose my race.  I can't choose my physical abilities.  All of that is directed and orchestrated by God in his providence.  I can choose how I live my life, how I serve others, and how I trust God every day.  That, ultimately, is where Becker gets, too.  I just didn't like the guilt-laden path she took to get there.


Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the complimentary electronic review copy!