Some background on this paper: Several events were hosted February 17th by the Minority Education Office at OSU on the topic of white privilege. I attended the public forum, held 7p.m.-9p.m. at LaSells Stewart Center. The forum was hosted by Peggy McIntosh, "a nationally recognized expert on race and gender relations," and Larry Roper, Vice Provost for Student Affairs at OSU.

You can read Peggy McIntosh's paper online: "White Privilege:Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack". And you can read about the event here.

    But over the course of the evening I was struck by several things that could have been racist, intolerant and ignorant or perhaps just coincidence. Maybe I was just hyper-alert to the possibility.

    As I looked around at the people in the auditorium, it gradually dawned on me that most of them were students, and probably a lot of them had been encouraged or required to go there as part of a class (as I myself had been). People sat in groups of two or three and sometimes chatted. Of the few black students I noticed in my part of the auditorium, most were sitting alone, and stayed for the entire evening. Several people got up and left when Peggy McIntosh had finished talking. I got the feeling they were just there to see her and couldn't be bothered to stay and listen to what Larry Roper had to say. (Although, ironically, I found many of his comments more enlightening.)

    When both speakers had finished, the announcer thanked all the people who had planned the event, and then thanked Peggy McIntosh for her expertise (on the topic of white privilege). Everyone applauded. I was immediately struck by the fact that Larry Roper had not been thanked (for anything) but also I had problems with the audience's reaction. Let me try to explain.

    My friend has often remarked that in her women's studies classes, the teacher will frequently lavish attention on any male students who show up, and make a point of commending their presence in the class. First, this is wrong because it implies that the teacher (and feminism on the whole) should be grateful to non-sexist men and owe them thanks for being that way. My friend finds this outrageous; she feels we ought to demand non-sexism from men, not grovel and kiss their feet when they deign to give it to us. My boyfriend had a different take on the teacher's behavior; he was upset because the teacher's comments imply that all men are sexist, except for these special guys who showed up to a women's studies class.

    Either way you look at it, it's bad practice. If someone chooses to admit their privilege or work to diminish it, society should not applaud them for it. The applause should not be the motivation for such an act.

    So, I was upset that Peggy McIntosh, as it seemed to me, was being applauded for being a commendable white person. And what really saddened and disappointed me is that she did not make any attempt to refuse this praise. Perhaps for the sake of politeness to the announcer, she merely smiled.

    Now, I do think it takes great courage to do what Peggy McIntosh does, and I imagine she faces a great deal of criticism from her peers for rocking the boat. However, taking into consideration her own article about white privilege, Larry Roper's attendance and participation in that event was far more courageous. Not only did he risk ridicule and disbelief from white, or "privileged", members of the audience, he also faced possible hostility from other "non-privileged" people. Again, I shall try to explain.

    A few days ago in class, I mentioned that the only place I felt unsafe in Corvallis was in walking past the fraternities. This sparked a rather long discussion that I really didn't expect. A couple of women agreed with me: yes, campus can be threatening, and especially the fraternities. But several women proceeded to make comments and to give suggestions that left me feeling as though I had said something taboo. I was given suggestions as to how I should behave in order to avoid confrontation, and made to feel in some respects as though my feelings were invalid. One woman tried to say that she was not blaming the victim, but... and then proceeded to explain how victims could be seen as responsible for any harm that might come to them. I left feeling drained, and discredited. And what really shocked me was that it hadn't come from the men at all. It had come from my fellow women.

    That is the sort of risk that I mean, when I say that Larry Roper took a risk that night. If anyone deserved applause, it was he.

    I had come to the talk without many expectations, except maybe to learn something. For a little while, I was euphoric with the thought that these people had seized on something truly phenomenal and utterly real. I believed for a time that I was in an atmosphere of understanding, tolerance, and acceptance and that people had dropped their walls of cynicism and really cared about the topic at hand. It seemed too good to be true, and when I looked around I discovered that it was.

    Something else happened that night that may help to illustrate my point. I had a question, an honest-to-goodness, "I want to know the answer" question. I'm terrified of crowds and it took enormous energy on my part to do it, but I was a little inspired by the mood of (at least partial) tolerance. I said basically that having grown up in Corvallis, I'm afraid of black people, and what could I do to get over it? Sadly, the first thing that Larry Roper said was "That takes courage to admit" and everyone applauded.

    I was utterly disappointed. I wasn't looking for sympathy (on the part of the audience), nor forgiveness from Larry Roper. I wanted an answer to my question. It was "nice" of everyone to be so supportive, but it failed to address the problem.

    A few suggestions were offered, by Larry Roper and by the audience, none of which sounded substantial to me. It's not that I expected Larry Roper to have the answer, but it seemed to me that it was my best opportunity to ask someone who might be especially qualified to know. It was okay that I didn't get an answer, but the applause made me sick. I couldn't help thinking that people had missed the point.

    After the talks were over, a woman came up to me and thanked me in person, and said, "you spoke for us all." I was horrified, but I smiled anyway, much as Peggy McIntosh had done. I had had no intention to speak for anyone but myself.

    I think it's truly wonderful that people have identified such issues as white privilege and I am truly glad that some people honestly care enough for an event like this to take place. However, until people really understand what white privilege (or any kind of privilege) really means, we still have a long ways to go.