The trouble with white people is you can't tell them apart

Like most IWUers, I came from, come from, and will likely continue to inhabit a sheltered, middle/upper middle class suburban environment. Most IWUers, as well as most people in the U.S., will recognize this as code for "white people land," which really isn't an unfair assessment of my hometown. Testament to this is my high school, which at the time of my graduation was over 90% white. The most local diversity you're likely to encounter is at the Baskin Robbins (32 flavors!). One of the many consequences of this is that I didn't, don't, and will likely never feel particularly comfortable talking about race and issues surrounding race, because frankly, what the hell do I know?

Fortunately, I took a Psychology of Racism class last semester, and now know everything there is to know about racial tension.

And by "know everything there is to know about racial tension" I mean "I'd hazard to say I'm a little less blindsighted and a little more sensitive and knowledgeable about race and racial tension."

I've gotten the impression that for the majority of white people who get any kind of education like I did about American race and racism, it becomes the sort of thing you suddenly want to talk about a lot. I suddenly found myself finding excuses to bring up my Racism class at even vaguely opportune times. Much of what you learn is new, shocking, and angering, which generally are all qualities that make for a fun conversation starter.

What I've noticed, though, is that it's surprisingly and frustratingly hard to get engaged in a conversation with anyone about race, because one of the following things seems to happen:

1) the white person you're talking to will either grow uncomfortable or begin to treat you like a conspiracy theorist (seeing as you're spouting off about racial "slights" or "stereotypes" you witnessed that didn't exist)
2) the white person you're talking to will attempt to engage you in conversation but will deviate into a less threatening territory, like feminism or more inclusive economic problems.
3) if the opportunity to talk about race to a person of color presents itself, you chicken out, either because you don't want to offend the person or because you assume your whiteness makes your opinion null and void, if not in your own eyes then certainly in theirs.

None of these are reasons to not talk about racism. In fact, all of them are based on my own experiences and are largely a product of me being a big sissy about the whole thing. Racism, like all social ills, needs to spend more time being talked about and less time being an elephant. But such scenarios are real and legitimate reasons that race-related conversation often gets snuffed out like so many cockroaches in my old apartment.

Point being: despite the substantial eye-opening that I got this last semester, I've rarely been brave enough to exercise much of what I learned. Stalled on the on-ramp, about the only noticeable thing that's changed for me is that I suddenly have a whole new slew of topics and comments that make me angry, or that put me (internally if not externally) in rant mode. To name a few:

- The fact that derogatory racial jokes are never okay, no matter how many times you think they're acceptable because you either 1) aren't "really" racist, or 2) have friends/are in the demographic at the butt of the joke.
- Islam is a religion practiced my Muslims. It is a stereotype or a generalization to assume that any Middle Eastern-looking person is Muslim, or to assume that all Muslims are Middle Eastern-looking. Thinking that making fun of Islam is okay because "Muslims are terrorists" is about the lamest thing I've ever heard.
- There is a way to have a sense of humor about race that isn't offensive. Taking offense at an offensive joke or comment is appropriate, not a demonstration of an inability to appreciate funny.

I'm just saying, if anyone ever feels a desire to talk about these kinds of things, I'm still ready to learn more if you are.