Take a look at Georgetown’s cafeteria.
You will find, primarily, distinct and separated groups of color. A scattering of black kids here, a scattering of white kids there and a group of Asians way over there. You know what I’m talking about.
What’s going on here? Discrimination? Self-segregation? Peer pressure? Social pressure? Why aren’t we mixing?
To make things worse, I am aware of very few clubs or teams at Georgetown that do, in fact, mix students of various racial backgrounds. We have the Armenian club, the Irish Club, the South Asian Club, the Boston Area club and the Black Student Alliance. All of these organizations take pride in ethnic unity, and that is a laudable aim. But, where are the groups that pride themselves in the diversity of students involved?
I cannot find many, but I am proud to be a part of one of them.
When I joined Groove Theory, it was one of the first times that I was a member of the minority. At home, I blended right into the sea of blue eyes, blonde hair, and fair complexions—South Dakota is a homogeneous state.
I can’t say that I was entirely comfortable in the hip-hop environment from the very first practice. That would be a lie.
Biologically, I stuck out, and I still do.
Last fall, Groove Theory was getting ready to perform at Urban Fare, a charity event. I was asked to exit the backstage area of Gaston Hall by another performer. I told the man that I was, in fact, a member in Groove Theory and needed to be backstage. He gave me an incredulous look and walked away. This happened twice that night.
The differences that make up Groove Theory are not purely biological.
The majority of our dancers are from New York City, Philadelphia, and Los Angeles—all very large metropolitan areas. Hip-hop’s movement, soul and rhythm thrive here, pumping through the city streets.
Within Groove Theory, the black kids from New York City always know a song before it hits the charts. The black kids from Philadelphia always know the dance from Usher’s latest music video, and the black kids from Los Angeles always know the latest hot and trendy style.
At first, I couldn’t keep up with this culture. I felt like an outsider, or maybe even an observer.
I was finally being tested as a member of the minority, but I did not break the mold. I was drawn to my “own”—I subconsciously veered toward the other white girls in the group. In total, there were four of us.
During my period of adjustment, I moved from one phase to another. I stayed silent. I changed the way I spoke. I changed the way I acted. I stood in the back of the group.
Yet the diversity of Groove Theory is refreshing on a campus that is often considered “white.” The differences that separate one dancer from another strengthen us as a whole. We are a powerful mix of color, backgrounds, cities, ethnicities, ages and sexes.
Utilizing my experiences with my team as my template, I have finally begun to recognize and understand the security that minority students find in sticking together. This unconscious phenomenon creates and solidifies cliques of friends, homogeneous clubs and segregation at lunch tables.
With time, I found that my reactions were unnecessary. My preoccupations were fabricated in my own mind. No one was excluding me—I was excluding myself.
