I’m sitting in my psychology class working on a “group presentation” with a couple of guys I’m sitting next to. One of them is trying to explain why he, in spite of his white skin, deserves a multicultural scholarship because he’s a seventh generation Californian and only three generations ago California had barely become a part of the United States. I stopped myself from trying to correct any one of the absurdities in his logic, realizing that I’ve done nothing but argue with what he has said since our discussion began. He has, in fact, been wrong about nearly everything he’s said in the last ten minutes but he’s talking in the “I’m smart” voice, which has fooled our third group member into believing that if white people have higher SAT scores than minorities, then the palest white people must be the smartest. Am I in college? I wonder sometimes.
Okay, I’m being too harsh. He’s mentioned his (pale) wife several times and I have to bear in mind that this guy got a woman to fall in love with him. There has got to be more than meets the eye. I’m sure if I gave him a chance I could come to understand him better. I like to think I’m getting better at looking past what is initially off-putting and assuming there is something I can’t see. The old Matthew would roll his eyes and make a mental note not to sit in this row again. (Isn’t it weird how people tend to always sit in the same spots in a classroom?) However, the new Matthew is not so dismissive. I hope.
I think the guy sitting next to me (the neutral member of the group) has been reading this over my shoulder. I should be nicer.
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