What Does "Privileged" Really Mean?

What Does "Privileged" Really Mean?

A word that stopped me in my tracks.

In the back page descriptions for two of my books — George Went to See the Prime Minister and George and the Problem of Food — I wrote that I had a privileged life. And then I worried about that for years.

The word privileged can carry a lot of weight. It can sound like a boast, or worse, like an apology. I was so unsettled by it that I actually unpublished both books for a time, because I no longer had the original files to quietly fix the wording.

And then I thought — why not write a blog post about it instead?

What "privilege" meant in my house

When I was young, my parents went overseas. When my mother came home, she told me something that has never left me. She couldn't sleep in her motel room in New York, she said, because there were people sleeping on the grates above the subway tunnels — lying there through the night because the warm air rising up from below was the only heat they had.

That image stayed with me.

My own understanding of privilege has never been about wealth or status. For me, the word has always meant something far more basic.

Running water. A toilet. A warm bed. A childhood free from sexual abuse.

That's it. That's the list. And when I measure my life against it, yes — I have been privileged. Very.

The numbers that put it in perspective

It might surprise you to know just how many people in the world still don't have access to that second item on my list.

According to UNICEF, around 60% of the world — 4.5 billion people — don't have a toilet that safely manages human waste at home. And as recently as 2024, 3.5 billion people were still living without access to safely managed sanitation — that's nearly half of humanity lacking one of the most basic human needs. UNICEFIFRC

Over 750 children under five die every day from diarrhoea caused by unsafe water, sanitation, and poor hygiene. UNICEF

A toilet. Something most of us don't think about for even a second of our day.

Why the word still matters

I think I was afraid that calling myself privileged would sound like I was either showing off or diminishing others. But sitting with it now, I think the opposite is true. Refusing to name it — refusing to see it — is what does the harm.

When I wrote those books, and when I write now, I write from a place of wanting young people to understand the world more fully. Not to feel guilty, but to feel awake. To notice what they have. To be curious about those who have less.

A warm bed. Running water. A toilet. A safe childhood.

If you have those things, you are — by any meaningful measure — among the fortunate ones.

And that's worth pausing for.

Rosemary Pattison is a Melbourne-based children's author and illustrator. Her books explore empathy, identity, and the quiet courage it takes to truly see the world around you.

(disclaimer - the above data is from my own research - please do your own checking for more confidence in accuracy.)