Epiphany at the Lamp/ Confessions of a Privileged White Man

        I have lived my life in a little white bubble. Technically the state of Connecticut is only 80% white, but if you were to spend any amount of time in my school system, you would say it seems more like 95%. As far as I remember, we had one African American kid who lived locally. We had and ABCs program that brought 5 or 6 black kids from intercity New York but no one really hung out with the “imported” minorities. They had to ride the bus for hours each morning and evening to get back to where they lived in the city so they didn’t have a lot of opportunities to hang out with the local kids outside of class. I was raised in a liberal family who always told me racism was wrong. That being said my family never spent time with any minorities and so I had very little authentic interaction with anyone outside my race. My cleaning lady helped me in my Spanish class but other than that I had never had a real conversation with anyone outside my race. 

       So naturally when I came to Memphis I was confident that I was not a racist and that I was somehow intellectually above those racist whites I occasionally encountered. Despite being against racism in concept, I was racist by isolation. I couldn’t speak to Black Memphians who had a strong accent as I had no idea what they were saying. I couldn't explain why I felt uncomfortable when I was the only white guy in the waffle house. I was completely ignorant of black culture and history. I laughed when my fellow freshmen made racist jokes. Culturally isolated first in the wealthy north then within the walls of Rhodes College I was able to live in a majority black city without having a single black friend or acquaintance. 

        I had my eyes opened however during an encounter at a bar on Madison Ave called the Lamp. I was sitting out back with a group of five white guys and a local Memphian of Asian decent, all Rhodes students, all drunk. We were sharing a table with a local black couple. During the course of the conversation, Rhodes was brought up, and the black women (let’s call her Rachel) said this: “Everyone at Rhodes is racist. How can a school that white get away with living in luxury in the middle of a struggling black city.” Quick to interject one of my white companions said: “Hey, we go to Rhodes and we’re not racist.” To which she replied: “ya’ll are rich white kids living off your parent's money. You don’t know what it means to be racist. The school you go to is a racist institution and you benefit from that.” I replied “Rhodes… isn’t racist. They do loads good for the community.” She then told me her experience applying to Rhodes College. During her interview she was sitting in the lobby of the administrative building. “People kept looking at me like I didn’t belong” she said. “There was a white girl sitting next to me and when it came time for my interview the interviewer walked right past me up to the white girl and said ‘Are you Rachel?’ When the girl shook her head and I piped up that I was Rachel the interviewer looked surprised. I’ve lived in this city my whole life and those people at Rhodes walked right past me like I was part of the furniture. Like they weren't expecting a black girl to be applying.” We didn’t know what to say. Some of us apologized on behalf of Rhodes. Others distanced themselves by sharing their own experience with how racist Rhodes is. She kept saying we don’t understand and I could tell she was getting visibly angry. Her partner kept putting his hand on her shoulder like he was trying to tell her it’s not worth it to have this conversation. I sat there quietly and uncomfortably in my collared blue polo and khaki shorts listening. Rachel said “None of you are from this city why do you get to go to Rhodes while Black Memphians are shut out? It’s because you’re white.” The Asian girl in our group sat silently but one of our party pointed to her and said she’s not white and she’s from Memphis and she goes to Rhodes. Rachel asked where she was from and the girl replied Germantown. Rachel laughed and said there must be an exception for the rich. 
        I have thought a lot about that night and that conversation. Though we wouldn’t say it to her face, the students I was with afterwards said Rachel was being racist for assuming we were racist because we were white. She seemed angry almost hostile toward the end when we continued to deny our apparent bigotry.  I couldn't rationalize why she had been so upset and for the first time in my life I asked myself if I was indeed a racist. I don’t hate black people but if an objective outsider were to assess my life was there any proof that I wasn’t racist? I am still ignorant of much of black culture. I still have to ask people to repeat themselves sometimes. I still dress like a yuppie but since that night I have been actively trying to avoid isolation. I have learned more about black history and Memphis history. I have spent more time in the Memphis community and less time in the Rhodes community. I have found ways to check my privilege and avoid/ confront people who tell racist jokes. I don’t believe that I am racist. I believe I am a product of a sheltered and homogenous section of American society. I am privileged and perhaps a bit spoiled but I have no ill intent in my heart. When I leave Memphis in a few short weeks I will leave with a new perspective. I will educate people around me about how ignoring the problems of minorities in this nation is too comfortable and thus not acceptable. “It doesn't happen in my town” and “I’m not racist” are not excuses for allowing the systemic discrimination of our government and society to continue unchecked. Every small action of prejudice, just like the one committed by that interviewer, can have a huge impact on the lives of those around us. It is not enough to not be racist. It is not enough to change yourself. We all, especially the white and the privileged, need to actively advocate for a fair system and an equal society. Only by being active agents of change can we make up for the privileges from which we have benefited.