To all those disturbed by my last column, welcome to the life of a minority.

Proven by all the demeaning facebook messages I received, last week’s column definitely hit a nerve. Take the anger you felt last week and multiply it by 100. You’ll begin to understand what it is like to be a minority.

Considering how we all reside in our “natural” comfort zones of hanging out with the majority of those like us, this campus must revolve around stereotypes. Actually, in all our lives we simplify our understanding of people by categorizing an individual into socially established binaries: North versus South, Greek versus non-Greek, Democrat versus Republican and the most recognizable, white versus non-white. Don’t believe me? As a freshman, when you were first being introduced to a person, think of how many times you were asked (or asked) which house you were in; it was probably too many to count.

Last week, I ridiculously stereotyped the majority on campus. As I implicitly (or maybe explicitly) conveyed in last Wednesday’s column, stereotypes are based on arbitrary qualities. Theses qualities begin on the surface with our physical differences, like whether or not we wear a North Face fleece. Then, the generalizations expand to our emotional, intellectual capabilities; hence, the unsubstantiated belief that suburbanites are “ignorant, arrogant pricks.”

Not often does the dominant group (whether it is suburbanites or whites or both) have to face the stereotype categorizing them. We, in the dominant group, have the luxury of living each day with no reminder that people are judging us by an ignorant categorization, not our individual achievements.

In the face of race relations, being a southern minority seems extremely trivial, yet it helps me understand how a person can be consistently reminded of how people view a certain stereotype. I only recognize myself as a minority in the sense of my gender, so let me also label myself as the majority. I am part of the dominant white. As the majority, I am stereotyped but I receive the benefits instead of the discrimination.

Now, instead of consciously being reminded that you are in the minority, imagine that you are constantly reminded that you are in the majority. You were accepted to the University because you are a suburbanite. Maybe more applicable, you were accepted to the University because you are white. You receive more tips at the bar you work at because you are white, not because you were a fast bartender. The bus just stopped for you because you are white. That person just held the door for you because you are white. None of these actions can be attributed to you because of your individual qualities.

When you begin to think in these terms for every action in your day, it becomes absolutely exhausting. The consciousness of being white then becomes internalized into your actions. You’ll begin to question yourself. “Did I not smile at that person because I am white? Did I react differently to him/her because I’m white?” You no longer have an individual identity to base your actions on. Instead, everything is in terms of your race.

Most of you have probably heard this. However, have you consciously made an effort to recognize yourself as white in every single action? If not, begin labeling your whiteness, and you’ll see how constructed your world really is. Unlike the minority, we as the dominant group have the privilege of turning it off.

The ability to turn off this consciousness of race allows us to remain within our comfort zones. Stereotypes simplify identities. Once we judge a person on whatever stereotype, be it race or where you grew up, we have the excuse not to initially attempt to understand the person.

Although my column ironically (or to some, hypocritically) relied on stereotypes, I think there is some truth to it in understanding the intolerance of differences (race, sexuality, location) on this campus. As freshman, we may have inherited a University campus already segregated, but this is not an excuse. By simply existing with the system, we are perpetuating segregation.

Renee Thessing is a junior in LAS. She happens to own both a North Face fleece and a Coach bag. Her column appears on a rotating basis. She can be reached at [email protected].