Privilege

For those who have worked through my journey book, Korean Chopsticks and an American Spoon, the foundation of my philosophy is embracing a growth mindset at any age. I am well into middle age and still finding awe and joy when I learn something new and make connections from what I’ve learned in the past to what I experience in the present and forecast for the future.

The topic of privilege – what it means, what we owe to ourselves, and what we owe to others – is one that I’ve been mulling over for quite a while. Little by little, I’ve been gaining a clearer view on it since I moved to Pittsburgh earlier this year.

When the words “Pittsburgh” and “philanthropy” come together, my immediate association has always been Andrew Carnegie. And this was long before I even moved to the city.

The legacy that he worked so hard to cement was the philanthropic one, and, now, as a resident of Pittsburgh, I’ve experienced first-hand the impact of that legacy through the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh. In the short time I’ve lived in Pittsburgh, I’ve read Jacinda Ardern’s autobiography, A Different Kind of Power; taken in-person Korean language classes; and completed two online certificate programs, all without additional cost.

When I dig a little deeper, however, into how that wealth was accumulated to make this level of philanthropy possible, it’s difficult to not feel a little pang in my heart.

Over the summer, I toured Clayton House at the Frick. The museum has done a commendable job of pairing the stories of people who worked for the Frick family in the household as well as the steel mills juxtaposed with the display of family wealth. For example, a dining set imported from Italy was the equivalent of a maid’s yearly salary.

The Frick also provides a window into the working and living conditions of the steel workers and their families. When witnessing the legacy of wealth in the likes of Carnegie and Frick, I grapple with their ability to accumulate wealth at any cost. In terms of the steel workers, I think of the dangerous working conditions, the impact on their health and the health of their families, and how all this impacts future generations. Those were not livable wages, and the workers and their families lived in conditions that would be condemned in modern times.

Does becoming a world-famous philanthropist in the final act of one’s life absolve the dearth and misery of thousands of people who labored to bring about that wealth? What would Pittsburgh be if these “titans of industry” paid people dignified salaries from the beginning so they didn’t have to live in squalor? How would Pittsburgh have transformed if it cleaned up its lands from the legacy of the steel mills earlier so people didn’t die prematurely?

History has a way of repeating itself. Or is it that we humans don’t learn from the past?

Fast forward to modern times. Rather than “titans of industry,” we have “titans of technology.” Of the vast wealth modern technology has brought to the 1%, I can only name two impactful people whose philanthropic endeavors seek to eliminate systemic inequality, which is the root of most (if not all) human social injustices and sufferings: MacKenzie Scott (Yield Giving) and Melinda French Gates (Pivotal Ventures). I am especially impressed with how Ms. Scott intentionally seeks to be in the background so the recipients and their work can step in the spotlight. These two people exemplify that wealth, power, and compassion can co-exist and uplift humanity.

Does privilege really come with responsibilities? We have an expectation that people with immense wealth, power, and privilege will share that with the rest of us in some capacity for the good of humankind. Is this encoded in our DNA as humans? Has it ever been codified? If so, where does this social contract exist? And in what form?

So what does this mean for the rest of us who aren’t billionaires? How do we make a positive impact in our sphere of the universe? In lieu of vast wealth, how can we share our own specific privileges to those who could use that light and love?

I have daily walks around the downtown areas that are furiously being improved to make the city of Pittsburgh look “ah-mahzing” when it hosts the 2026 NFL draft in less than five months. And along those walks are people who are homeless (as noted on the cardboards they put up) and/or in distress. Will this be a “lipstick on a pig” moment for the city…or will it truly help people live lives in and with dignity for the long term? And what role do we, the “average” person, play in this transformation?

Lots to mull over.

Happy Thanksgiving eve, yinz*.

*“Yinz” is Pittsburghese for “"you all," "y’all”

AI-generated image of helping hands