I am fifteen years old, on a family vacation driving through half a dozen states. One of the stops in South Dakota, aside from Mount Rushmore, is to the Wind Cave National Park. As we’re making our way through the main road in the park, we can see on the open prairie, about twenty feet from the side of the road, a herd of bison. Up close, they kind of look like big, dumb, cuddly teddy bears, and that’s actually what a lot of people seem to think.

There are a good dozen cars or more parked along the side of the road, and we join them, pulling to the side. The bison are maybe twenty or twenty-five feet away from us and they’re just grazing. To my amazement, I see people exiting their vehicles and approaching the bison like they’re pet dogs that are begging for attention. These people must have a death wish. A male bison can exceed 2,000 pounds, and they can turn a car onto its side. These people are extremely lucky it’s not mating season and there aren’t any calves around.

I make a comment to my mom and stepdad about how stupid those people are to be approaching those bison. My younger brother, who is about nine, says he wouldn’t even want to get close to one of them.

By now, half a dozen cars have emptied and most of the occupants are within six to eight feet of the bison. The bison haven’t moved an inch. They’re still standing in the same spot they have been, but they’ve now started to lift their heads up from grazing and they’re watching these people approach them. The people are snapping pictures, lifting their little kids up high, trying to make it look like the kids are on top of the bison and riding them (like how people take pictures of the Leaning Tower of Pisa to make it look like they are pushing it back up).

This goes on for five or six minutes, and then up the road comes Ranger Rick in his jeep. He parks his jeep, jumps out, and starts sternly talking to all the people out of their cars.

Ranger Rick: “What is wrong with all you people? These are not domesticated animals! They are to not be approached nor fed. Even stopping by the side of the road inside your vehicle can be dangerous if one of the males decides to charge you. I’ve witnessed them turning cars over and people getting seriously injured! Go back to your vehicles and leave.”

Murmurs come up from the group of people that are still wandering within spitting distance of these bison, and most of them are just looking at Ranger Rick like he’s a fool.

Ranger Rick: “You are putting your children’s lives at risk bringing them out of the vehicles. Please, go back to your vehicles.”

A few more murmurs come up from the people walking around. A couple of people head back to their cars, but most stay put.

Ranger Rick: “Anyone out here that does not get in your car and leave the area right now will have their vehicle information handed to the cops and fined for trespassing. If you stay, any harm that may come to you or your loved ones or your property, the state will not reimburse you. You will be responsible for all fees and fines should any rescue efforts be required.”

People start making their way back to their vehicles and piling in to leave.

My stepdad flags down Ranger Rick after everyone has moved along.

Step-Dad: “Do you have to do this often?”

Ranger Rick: “Almost every day. People think these bison are big domesticated dogs. I used to be amazed at the sheer stupidity of people, but after having to do this almost every day, I now find it just sad how ignorant most people are.”

Step-Dad: “Is it true that you’ve seen bison turn a car on its side?”

Ranger Rick: “Yep, a few times. It’s rare, but it does happen. It’s generally because someone spooks the bison because they exited their vehicle and got too close, especially with young calves around. Thank you for not being one of those families that got out of your vehicle. You guys enjoy the rest of the park.”

Ranger Rick waved and headed back to his jeep. It looked like he decided to stick around for a bit to tell grown adults that they were dumb if they exited their vehicles and tried to approach the bison.

I couldn’t believe my ears and eyes. Most people out of their vehicles cared more about not getting fined or having to pay fees than about the safety of their families, especially young children.

I’m flying to Greece from London on what will be my first holiday since before the global health crisis. The total flight time is expected to be more than four hours, so I spend a bit extra and book myself on an over-wing exit seat. Whilst these seats have extra leg room, passengers occupying them are legally required to assist the flight attendants in the event of an emergency.

I board the aircraft and find another passenger occupying my seat.

Me: “Excuse me, sir? You are occupying my seat.”

The passenger turns his head to face me.

Passenger: “No English.”

Okay, he’s not English. No big deal. I motion to him with my ticket that he is in my booked seat and ask him to move. However, the passenger still does not get the message; smiling and just saying, “Okay!” in return. This is during boarding on a flight full of expectant holiday goers, so there is already a queue of impatient passengers behind me.

I try to grab the attention of the flight attendants by ringing the call bell. Finally, one arrives to assess the issue.

Me: “Hello, I—”

Flight Attendant: “Sir, you need to take your seat, please. You are preventing us from completing boarding.”

Me: “Yes, well, that’s the problem. I have booked this seat here, which this passenger—” *gestures to the gentleman* “—is sitting in.”

Flight Attendant: “Okay, just take any seat, sir. In fact, I can sit you there.”

She motions to a seat behind the exit rows as all the other seats on the over-wings are taken.

Me: “You will not sit me there. I have booked and paid for this seat and would like to occupy this seat.”

Eventually, the cabin supervisor arrives. She promises to correct the problem before we leave. Since I’m holding up passengers already, I take the seat offered. However, when boarding completes, neither the first flight attendant nor the supervisor bothers to return to correct the problem. Just as the supervisor prepares to shut the aircraft door, I press the call bell once more and make a beeline to the front.

Me: “I’m sorry, you still have not moved me—”

Supervisor: “Sir, we are about to begin takeoff. Just take your seat!”

Me: “I would love to if you could move the person occupying it!”

Supervisor: “Sir, I can call the police if you like and have you removed from the plane. You are causing a disruption.”

I’m fuming, but not wanting to risk police involvement or my job with this same airline, I give up and return to my non-booked seat. As I just mentioned, I am an experienced member of this airline as an attendant, but I have not given this information to the crew yet.

During takeoff, I notice several problems with the man sitting in my seat. First, he requests and is given an extension seatbelt. These are used for infants or overweight passengers and SHOULD NOT be used for passengers on the over-wing rows. Second, he has several items of loose materials in and around his seat, which is never permitted during takeoff or landing. The gentleman is breaking so many rules, but even worse, the crew member who is doing the pre-takeoff checks for this row does not bother to correct it, nor does the supervisor.

I take photographs of all of the things I see. Two hours into the flight, I pluck up the courage to speak to the supervisor.

Me: “Excuse me. Can I have a word?”

Supervisor: *Rolls her eyes* “What now, sir?”

Me: “I just think you need to see this…”

I showed her the photos I’d taken. She initially tried to protest that I was taking photos of the plane unauthorised by her, which was ridiculous. I then informed her of my position in the same airline, as well as the fact that once we landed, I was going to report both her and the flight attendant for their lack of competence in correcting the issues with the man in that seat. I never once mentioned my dissatisfaction with having my seat changed.

Once she became aware of my intention to report her, the supervisor’s attitude changed completely. She offered to place me in the seat I was meant to be sitting in on departure. I laughed in her face and refused; the only reason why she was doing so now was because of the very serious breach of safety she had caused.

Last I heard, she was demoted. My vacation was awesome!

While I’ve long understood the idea of privilege on an academic level, this is the story of how I really got it. It happened a few years ago when people were reporting random creepy clown sightings, and there was lots of talk of people wanting to react violently to any creepy clowns they might come across. I was sitting in the break room at work with two coworkers.

Coworker #1: “I’m volunteering at the haunted house exhibit near my home.”

Me: “What are you doing there?”

Coworker #1: “I’m a scary clown. It’s fun, and it’s really convenient because it’s only a half mile, so I can walk.”

Coworker #2: “You don’t walk home in your clown get-up, do you? Not in the dark?”

Coworker #1: “Of course I do. The makeup is hard to get off, and I don’t want to bother trying to change in the bathroom or something.”

Coworker #2: “But aren’t you worried someone will try to hurt you, with all those weird clown sightings?”

Coworker #1: *Truly baffled* “No, not at all. Why would I be worried about that? Oh, hey, my break’s over. Talk to you later.”

He left.

Coworker #2: “I can’t believe he’s not worried. I wouldn’t want to walk around at night dressed like that.”

Me: “Yeah, no way would I be comfortable with that.”

Then, it dawned on me.

Me: “Oh… Oh! He’s been six and a half feet tall since he was a teen, and he’s white. You and I are of average height, you’re black, and I’m a woman. He’s never had to look over his shoulder in a sketchy area.”

Coworker #2: “That’s got to be it. He’s never had to think about that, has he? I hope his confidence isn’t misplaced.”

Happily, [Coworker #1] was fine. It was certainly an eye-opening conversation for me.

My sister, her kid, my brother, and I all live together. We recently moved to a place where there are lots of tornadoes. The siren goes off one night and my sister goes mad.

Sister: “Oh, my God, run for shelter!”

Our house doesn’t have a basement, so we run into the bathroom. [Sister] grabs her kid and runs into our bathroom.

Me: “Go to your bathroom! There’s not enough room!”

Sister: “I don’t feel safe in there.”

Me: “So, [Brother] and I are just going to get sucked up?!”

Sister: “Obviously! Women and children first!”

She wouldn’t move, so we just ran into a closet. Seven tornadoes hit our town, but luckily, we didn’t get sucked up.

I drive passenger trains for a living, a job I love, but of course, it has its own set of problems. And a lot of those problems are people.

One day, I stop at a station for people to get on and off, but we are also waiting for a meeting train (single track railway, except for stations, of course). Then, I spot a man in his fifties calmly getting down from the platform on the other side of the station. Despite me loudly blowing the horn — both to get him off the track and to warn the other train — he just walks over the three tracks and then climbs up onto my platform.

Me: “Why did you do that? It’s really dangerous — also illegal!”

Passenger: “My back hurts, so I can’t take the stairs.”

And then, he just walked away from the station. To clarify, yes, there are stairs that lead to a tunnel under the tracks, but there are also elevators, as well as a nicely sloping path, all of which would be better for someone with a backache than climbing up and down a metre-high platform edge and walking over very uneven crushed rock, plus tracks. Just as a bonus, cargo trains regularly drive 100 km/h on the middle track.