Are we really fighting segregation by segregating ourselves?

I saw no racial discrimination where I came from. I saw no race where I came from. People had different skin colors, but they all had the same culture. They were all rich, suburbanite Republicans. It didn't matter if their ancestors were from Asia, Africa, Europe, or the Americas; they all bought their clothes at the Gap and listened to 100.3FM on the radio. Maybe that's because there wasn't much room for differences in my town, or because people were rewarded for assimilating into the "white culture," but I grew up without skin color being a real indicator of anything. It was no more important than the color of one's hair. That was probably due to the lack of cultural differences behind those skin colors. It took coming to a "multicultural" place like Oberlin for me to notice the color of people's skin.

Now I notice where everyone fits on the continuum of black to white. I notice how they are divided in the Snack Bar. Sometimes I have such an urge to cross over to another table and introduce myself, but I don't want to invade anyone's "safe space." Safe space is a big phrase on this campus. I understand the desire to identify and communicate with people who share a common identity, but maybe our safe spaces don't need to have ten foot barricades around them. If I am ignorant, then I need to learn, but I find that hard to do when we constantly shut each other out. It is a little ironic that we have so many multicultural forums and discussions at Oberlin, among people of the same cultural background. It might be helpful to discuss multiculturalism in a multicultural setting. Maybe that environment isn't "safe" enough. I guess I'm not expected to understand it, since the world is supposed to be my safe space... because when I walk down the street, you can't tell that my ancestors were oppressed, or that I've been the object of discrimination. Because I am the background, against which color is seen.

I see invitations all over campus for "people of color" or "women of color" to attend a meeting, or submit writing, or perform. I am not invited, because I have no color. I am transparent. I have no story to tell. I have nothing to teach and I have nothing to learn. I am just someone who makes the percentage of minorities lower. To me, multicultural should include all cultures. I thought that was the point, so that we can all come together and share our experiences and our histories.

I especially notice the division in the Dance Department. At Oberlin, there is the African dance community and the modern dance community. It may as well be black dance and white dance, with a few exceptions (including Vibe Dance Company, which though multicultural, is still labeled by some as "white dance"). I go to watch Dance Diaspora and I am not happy to see such beautiful dancers. I am angered and saddened, because I know that we'll never dance together, unless something changes. I know their names, and I say hello to them in the dressing room, but I don't really know more about them than how they are doing that day. I think this is changing, but not enough. We cannot learn from each other, and we all have so much to learn. The audiences at dance performances reflect the segregation on this campus. The modern dance shows have a white audience and the African dance shows have a black audience. I know that people are supportive of their own cultural community, but can't we step outside those communities to be supportive of each other?

I thought that the multicultural dance show might be an opportunity for the two communities to dance together, but many of the performances are only including "dancers of color." I would have liked to dance in that show, but I am not multicultural. White is not a color. In the Pigment Theory, it is the absence of color... like in the Oberlin Theory, it is the absence of culture.

I absolutely have a culture. I am even a minority, though maybe not on this campus. My ancestors have been slaughtered and oppressed by various groups for thousands of years. Their traditions and rituals have survived to signify more than a religion, but also a distinct way of life. You just can't see my history in my name or on my face. I don't have the olive skin, or the hook nose, stereotypically associated with my people. My hair is light, my eyes are blue, and my nose curves upward. But even if I did have these physical characteristics, I would not be a woman of color. I would still be white- that huge, loaded, and incorrect category that anyone is thrown into who has ancestors from a cold climate.

I do not dislike the color of my skin. I think that my paleness is beautiful. I merely dislike how others see me because of my paleness. I am lumped together in the majority, and stripped of my uniqueness. I am "that," "them," "other." I am not looking for a group of my own to belong to. I do not want pizza parties and poetry readings and literary magazines and discussions for people who are just like me. I just want us all to stop ignoring people who don't look the same way we do.

I guess that I was happy to be sheltered and oblivious about race for so long. I don't think that it's bad for us to see the color of each other's skin, and pretending that we have no differences relating to our skin color is ignorant. I have been in my skin for twenty years. It is the medium through which I experience the world. It is not all of me, but it is a part of me that I do not want to ignore. But to label someone according to their skin color, or exclude them, or view them a certain way, or make assumptions about them, or condescend to them is not okay. Though, it happens to me all of the time. I think it's happening to all of us. I understand that people who have been discriminated against for most of their lives need to talk about those experiences. I understand it because I feel discriminated against every day at Oberlin. I feel like there is something so obviously wrong here, but no one is doing anything about it. And they laugh at me when I say I have to do something. Are we really fighting segregation and racism by segregating ourselves from each other? There has never been a separate but equal, and there never will be, for as long as we divide ourselves, we are judging each other.

I wanted Oberlin to be a bridge for me, between my small sheltered town and the big, scary world, so that I wouldn't be too afraid of the world to act up in it. I am getting a taste of the real world, but not the way I expected. I am learning that there is not much hope for my idealism. That's not what I want to be learning. This is not a victim's cry for pity. This is the voice of someone who wants to take action, but I need some help. If we, as three-thousand diverse, young, educated, liberal-minded people, cannot join together in a small town in the corn fields of Ohio, how do we ever expect to change the world?

Steffany Haaz is a College Sophomore