"Dude--honestly, on a scale of 1 to 10, how black am I?" "Oh my god, it's gonna be SO awkward going there.... I'm gonna feel soooo uncomfortable." "Oh, woe is me, I'm white and unable to interact with people different than myself!"
I have heard the above comments (okay, at least the first two) from my non-black friends over and over again. Perhaps surprisingly to many, I'm not talking about a visit to a Black Student Alliance meeting or a trip to the local historically black college. I'm talking about something as simple as a social event, a gathering of people having fun. What I'm talking about is black parties.
I specify that the problem is particular to blacks (and not minorities in general) because the relationships among whites and non-black minority groups are fundamentally different, since the relationship between blacks and whites has been almost exclusively characterized by fear. Many Latinos can pass for white in appearance, while many Asians are identified as model minorities by the white community. The same fear is not instilled in the hearts of white Americans by gatherings of Latinos and Asians because that fear has not been nurtured in them from an early age as acutely as with blacks. Slavery has, undoubtedly, played a role in fostering this peculiar attitude.
The "problem" with blacks is that they are not palatable to the vast majority of white America. To many, blacks are loud, rude, arrogant and unrefined. If they would just act more properly, more like whites, then of course all these problems would go away and race relations would be easy. Perhaps it is because of the small numbers at Duke and thus any black congregation startles the eye, but it is certain that gatherings of black people can scare the holy bajeezus out of non-blacks.
It is important to recognize that these fears associated with attending black parties are unfounded. The fact that students attend other parties without the same regard for the dangers of those social scenes implicitly reveals their conviction that blacks are unsafe to be around or that they are inherently more violent than non-blacks. This characterization of blacks, particularly black males, as perpetrators of violence, crime and sexual assault is ludicrous at an institution of higher learning, but these social mores continue to pervade our thinking and go all but unnoticed.
What adds insult to injury for most blacks is the self-righteous way in which whites who DO manage to make it to these parties complain about their lack of acceptance within the group. Don't get me wrong: I applaud the efforts of individuals who try in any way to get to know people different from themselves. However, the lack of acceptance felt by whites at these parties is often more perpetrated by their own feelings as an outsider rather than by any real animosity from the blacks at the party.
Further, blacks deal with this silent burden of exclusion each and every day of their lives--when they go to eat, in their classes, at the gym--not because they want to expand their horizons or try something new but because it is required of them to cope within a white society, a world in which "white" equates with what is normal and most desired. A black person cannot simply "leave the party" and choose not to deal with living as a minority in the group.
Consider the fact that blacks are nearly three times more likely than whites to be labeled "mentally retarded" and that the odds of being labeled mentally retarded actually increase for African-American boys in middle- and upper-income districts. Taken together with the evidence for a strong correlation between educational achievement and socioeconomic status, these data can only tell us that a latent fear and misunderstanding of blacks continue to pervade American thought.
The fact that we still cannot interact with each other on a social level is the real problem of race relations in America. Politicians may use black voters to serve their agendas and save political face, but the racial goal we strive for in America is simply one on paper. When talking about social problems disproportionately affecting black America, we focus on university affirmative action policies rather than addressing the nation's darkest fears of interracial marriage or even befriending a black family in the neighborhood, always forgetting the daily psychological trauma laid heavily on the shoulders of African-Americans by the media, by the education system and by our own friends.
Only by making fundamental changes in how we approach social situations with black Americans can we hope to stop hiding behind the excuse of race in our daily lives.
Philip Kurian is a Trinity sophomore. His column appears every third Wednesday.
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