Sir, Run Your Own Bath

In Kindred by Octavia Butler, what stands out most is how Kevin and Dana attempt to move through the 1800s as if they can remain detached observers. In reality (or what we can consider so), neither of them is able to do that, and Dana least of all. Her safety depends on performing the role of an enslaved woman, and any resistance puts her at risk of violence. Kevin, on the other hand, experiences only mild inconveniences such as shaving with a single blade. The contrast between their circumstances makes it clear that the ability to “observe” is a privilege that belongs only to him. My argument is that Kevin never fully rejects the time period because his gender and racial privilege shield him from recognizing the full extent of Dana’s suffering.

Kevin presents himself as someone who does not comply with the racist culture of the 1800s. He does not use slurs, does not treat Black people as inferior, and does not exploit anyone sexually. When he is trapped in the past for five years, he even contributes to antislavery efforts. Yet this is the limit of his resistance. When it comes to his relationship with Dana, he does not question the power dynamics between them as critically as he believes he does. The moment they are asked to perform “master and slave” roles should have disturbed him, but instead he adopts the master role with ease and even came up with a twisted narrative about how he and Dana are together to tell Weilyn. He allows Dana to act as his slave within their temporary household, allowing her to do chores for him without any consideration. This acceptance is not an act of survival on his part; This is his comfort.

That comfort emerges from two places: his whiteness in the 1800s and the gender norms of the era in which he was raised. As a white man in the antebellum South, Kevin is insulated from the violence that defines Dana’s experience. His race allows him to move freely and without fear, while Dana is constantly monitored, threatened, and punished. In addition, growing up in the 1950s and living in the 1970s means Kevin is accustomed to women performing domestic labor without acknowledgment. Because of this, he does not fully grasp how damaging it is for Dana to be put in that position under slavery. What appears to him as an unfortunate necessity feels to her like an extension of historical and gendered subservience.

Kevin’s privilege contributes to his blindness. He does not realize he is participating in a system that dehumanizes Dana, nor does he understand how easily he benefits from it. His whiteness in the past shields him from danger, and that same protection allows him to overlook the brutality that Dana endures. The differences in their experiences reveal how privilege operates across time: Kevin’s greatest struggles are minor adjustments, while Dana’s are matters of survival.

Rufus complicates this dynamic further. He becomes a disturbing example of what happens when someone grows up immersed in the values of a slaveholding society. His actions, especially toward Alice, are morally indefensible in our era. Yet there are moments where he seems capable of empathy, and he is unusually receptive to Dana. These small moments create a sense of mourning for what Rufus could have been had he been born in a different era. In a time less defined by violence, entitlement, and racial hierarchy, he might have developed into a fundamentally different person.

In the end, Kevin’s experience in the 1800s reveals how privilege shapes perception, even across time. While he sees himself as resisting the era’s racism, his inability to recognize the gendered and racial power he holds over Dana shows how deeply he is protected by his social position. Dana’s constant danger makes it impossible for her to detach from the violence around her, while Kevin’s distance allows him to overlook it. It is a system that exposes the differences in who society protects and who it sacrifices.