Derwin Dubose

The Confessions of a “White” Black Student at Carolina

// January 12th, 2005 // Columns

Throwback: This is one of my favorite columns I wrote when I was a back-page columnist for The Daily Tar Heel, UNC-Chapel Hill‘s Pacemaker Award-winning daily newspaper.

During a recent dinner conversation, one of my closest friends said, “The verdict is in. I’m sad to report that you are no longer black.”

“No longer black?” I immediately asked. I quickly looked at my hands to make sure that I had not unknowingly undergone a Michael Jackson-esque transformation, but I quickly realized that my skin was the same color it had always been.

“People don’t think of you as black,” she continued. “In fact, you’re practically white.”

It was one of the most confusing moments of my life. My friend’s revelation perplexed me. I couldn’t understand the fact that people saw me as not being black, and even as “white.” I tried to make sense of the matter in different ways.

First, I looked at my family. Both of my parents are black. Both have beautiful brown skin, broad noses and the most unique hair I have ever seen. They were also born in historic times for blacks. Both lived through Jim Crow segregation, and my mom even picked cotton.

I then looked at my own experiences. Raised in Alabama, one of the most segregated areas of the nation, I quickly learned that race was a big factor in American society, and that I was not in the majority.

I attended subpar, all-black schools and grew up on a dirt road in an all-black neighborhood. I was called “nigger” more times than I can count, and when I did move to a racially mixed community, none of my white neighbors would even speak to me.

I went to a racially mixed boarding school and faced even more problems because of my race. Staff members and administrators discriminated against students of color, and I received a death threat after standing up against hate speech.

Even at Carolina, I have had highly insensitive remarks directed at me. I was even called a drug dealer at a party last year.

To me, I was most certainly black, and our closed-minded society treated me accordingly. However, that completely contradicted my friend’s report.

Still confused, I began to ask other people to weigh in on the issue. I asked friends, co-workers, professors and even campus administrators.

My conversations with these people varied. Each person had different thoughts on the issue, but all of the talks had a common thread: Most of my decisions since arriving in Chapel Hill were not “black enough.”

I am in a “white” fraternity. My North Face fleece and Reef sandals are among the most heavily used articles in my wardrobe. I own all three John Mayer CDs. I chat with friends and play Frisbee on Polk Place.

My main involvement on campus has been with “white” organizations such as the Campus Y, student government, the Interfraternity Council and now The Daily Tar Heel.

Basically, I made all of the wrong choices if I was to be considered “black” at UNC.

But why is this the case? Sadly, society has dictated that certain activities, organizations, styles of clothing and actions are “black,” and that most others — especially those of the mainstream culture — are “white.”

Do we have follow that edict and judge our fellow students based on racist categories? As difficult as it might be, I hope that we can start treating our fellow Tar Heels more like individuals, instead of categorizing them by prejudiced cultural norms.

I admit that I am a utopian-minded person, and I sincerely believe that we must be the change we wish to see in the world. Improving race relations begins with each individual, so I am going to start doing my part.

I am going to remain a proud brother of my IFC fraternity. I will continue to wear my North Face apparel and sandals. The DTH and Campus Y will still be part of my life. I’m going to blast “I Don’t Want To Be,” my favorite Gavin DeGraw track, as loudly as possible.

I am also going to renew my membership in the Black Student Movement, to write my honors thesis on the campus struggle for a black cultural center and to work to connect more African Americans to campuswide activities and organizations. I will even be relaxing with the most recent Twista CD.

To be quite honest, I am going to continue being myself, a unique individual. Maybe I can be an exemplar of what I consider common sense: People should not be made to feel bad because they are eclectic or challenge the status quo.

In fact, those are the only people who have ever made a genuine impact on society, and that’s why I will be writing this column.