“Ordinary” childhoods in Los Angeles very often involve someone speaking Spanish, but I will not make that argument. Nor will I even argue that she had an “ordinary” childhood, although I remain unsure about exactly who does. “Privilege” is something else. “Privilege” is a judgment. “Privilege” is an opinion. “Privilege” is an accusation. “Privilege” remains an area to which—when I think of what she endured, when I consider what came later—I will not easily cop.
