Thoughts on Gratitude, Privilege, and the Context of Advice

Sitting in a seminar on the skill of feeling grateful, I realized that I was feeling resentful instead. And I wondered why.

Of course, on a certain level, nobody likes to be told to be grateful. As small children, when our caregivers prompt “What do you say?”, we parrot “thank you”… but are we learning to actually feel gratitude? Or just to to give the socially appropriate response to gifts and favours? Adults correct our behaviour not for our own immediate benefit (though of course it eventually benefits us to be familiar with social norms) but for their own comfort and that of the gift-giver(s).

On the other hand, discussing feelings of gratitude — rather than gestures of gratitude — is different. It’s not about what’s socially appropriate; it’s about what’s psychologically healthy.

At least, that’s why it was a seminar topic for an adult audience. We’re not being scolded for our lack of manners, we’re learning ways to re-frame our perception of the world to help us achieve lasting happiness.

And… that’s something I think is valuable. I do try to focus on the good around me, to remind myself that many of my problems stem from things I am ultimately lucky to have in my life: can’t be worried about work if you don’t have a job, can’t get stressed over catching up friends if you don’t have friends, can’t get down on yourself about going to the gym too infrequently if you can’t afford a membership or aren’t able to work out.

I’m also sure that part of my resentment comes from things I still need to work on: anger or frustration that I don’t want to let go of, either because it feels like losing or because I’ve tied it to some part of my identity and need to work on separating the two. I hope I’m brave enough to keep working on that.

But I’ve thought about it for a while, and although I appreciate the importance of gratitude and the helpfulness of learning specific practices toward cultivating gratitude, I realized one key factor that makes me uncomfortable: context.

It matters very deeply to me who is encouraging me to embrace gratitude and under what circumstances, because embracing gratitude is so often tied to embracing the status quo.

When I seek out sources on cultivating gratitude on my own, or when someone who lacks privilege I enjoy talks about finding gratitude, I don’t feel resentful. Because the information or the motivation is coming from someone who doesn’t benefit more than me from the status quo, who doesn’t have the power to change the things that make me feel anger and frustration, the advice feels sincere and for my benefit.

I don’t resent it when women give other women mental tips on surviving in a sexist world or when LGBTQ people talk about gratitude as self-care to mitigate the negative effects of heteronormative society. I’m not resentful when a person of colour points out that I, someone who benefits from white privilege, might take a moment to consider and be grateful for all that it has afforded me in life. I can trust that they’re not saying, “The world is perfect, there are no problems, shaddup and say thanks!”

But when power flows the other way, it sets my back up.

When Richard Dawkins admonishes a woman who complains of sexist behaviour that made her feel unsafe, sarcastically implying that she should stop whining and be grateful she’s not oppressed like his imaginary “Muslima”*, he doesn’t have her mental wellbeing in mind.

When a non-Indigenous Canadian senator laments that we should focus on the good that residential schools did, okay, being extremely charitable, let’s act as though she does have the mental health and wellbeing of all Indigenous folks in mind. But even if that’s the case, the effect of this response is to minimize the pages and pages of specific, well researched Calls to Action from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that point out literally dozens of places that non-Indigenous Canadians who want to make things better can start.

Even when the speaker’s tone is supportive and appropriate, even when they really are trying to make things better, even when there isn’t an obvious and public suggested solution, being told to be grateful by the people who don’t experience your problems but have more power than you to fix them feels disingenuous at best.

For instance, I am definitely grateful for the job I have. In so many ways, it’s awesome. But there are also parts of it that contribute toward my poor mental health days, and if I’m going to discuss those problems with even the best-intentioned coworkers, I’d rather put our energy toward developing solutions instead of coping strategies.

Is it better for me to feel grateful for the many benefits of my workplace instead of dwelling on the negative? Sure! I love my job, and even on bad days, I certainly like it better than having no job or a different job. But just because I’m lucky to do what I do and be who I am doesn’t mean that I’m never allowed to want or advocate for solutions that would benefit me, my colleagues, and my students. I can feel grateful for what I have while still hoping for some changes.

This makes me sceptical of the idea that most of our happiness depends on our choices about how to feel and frame the world–not because mental frameworks aren’t important (they are!), but because how we feel affects our circumstances. I’m not sure it makes sense to distinguish between “happiness based on feelings” vs. “happiness based on circumstance.”

Like, yes, I’m super sceptical of makeover shows that claim to change a person’s life when, if you watch them, it’s clear that they’re changing the symptoms (e.g. not putting energy toward grooming, not moving out of a sartorial comfort zone) without addressing the underlying cause (e.g. the emotional pain and restrictions of poverty, lack of a positive self-image). And I get that one’s mental framework is one of those underlying causes I care about. But the cause-and-effect isn’t so simple.

The contestant feels ashamed of their body, so they wear too-baggy clothes. But those too-baggy clothes read as lack of self-awareness or not caring about appearances to most people, so others’ reactions reinforce the body shame. And maybe the contestant feels ashamed of their body in part because they’re constantly bombarded with fat-shaming messages in media and interpersonal relationships–maybe it’s important to advocate against the systemic problem of how Western society frames fatness. Maybe that systemic problem is part of why the contestant has a negative mental frame, in that medical professionals tell them to lose weight rather than addressing their mental health issues as mental health. Mental frameworks can be– are–embedded in the circumstances of life rather than separate entities.

In the end, of course I try to cultivate gratitude over resentment. I don’t want to cut off my nose to spite my face. But I also need to negotiate a way to do so that feels right to me.

* Also, like, let’s just not be racist when we talk about… well, about anything, really.