Yet another metaphor for privilege

When I was in the process of moving to Portland, I had the sense of a tailwind helping me along. There was struggle and hard work involved, but a lot of friends helped me, and things fell into place neatly.

As I was biking recently with a strong wind behind me, I was thinking that a tailwind is like privilege. I always feel like a hot-shit biker with a tailwind. Look at me powering up this hill! I've gotten so strong! Oh, wait, I'm getting help. You can't feel a tailwind on a bike, just its effects. You sure know when you're biking into a headwind, though!

I parked over the bike sensor at a traffic light for a major arterial. A black man pulled up next to me on his bike, and smiled when I said hello. "Nice tailwind," I said companionably. "Finally!" he said. "Seems like I was biking into a headwind everywhere I went. Seems impossible, but..." "Oh, I hear you!" I said.

It's a long light. I had time to tell him about the bike sensor in the pavement, since he didn't seem to notice it. That's an aspect of privilege, too, knowing how to get what you need, being connected to a network that distributes that information.

I think about metaphorical tailwinds a lot. Once I got to Portland, it seems like I somehow fell out of alignment with the wind, and I've been facing a headwind trying to get established here. Seems like something is finally shifting again and my efforts are seeing better results.

I hope that man on the bike gets more tailwinds. It's exhausting and demoralizing to bike into endless headwinds.