Last week, the University of Ottawa’s Student Federation (SFUO) launched an anti-racism campaign called “In My Skin.” Ironically, segregating whites and non-whites was a central aspect of their preliminary icebreaker event. While this move was problematic and largely counterproductive, the SFUO’s reasoning behind the decision was legitimate, and addressed persistent barriers to meaningful discussion of the issue of race.

The event’s Facebook description stated that racialized students would discuss their experiences of racial inequity in one room, while “Caucasian” students were to talk about their white privilege in another. This caused an immediate and fierce backlash that eventually resulted in the event’s cancellation.

Many Ottawa students criticized the SFUO for over-simplifying race relations as a white versus non-white dichotomy. Although it is tempting to examine structural oppression in this binary, the framework fails to address the nuances of racial identity.

Consider a student who carries both white and non-white lineage — which group do they belong to? Does how “white” they look — and thus how much white privilege they have — determine their group? Or, do they join the discussion based on whether or not they identify as racialized?

The binary also assumes that white people cannot experience racism. Unsurprisingly, this sentiment offended many Ottawa students, including Alexei Kazakov, whose family had its Estonian citizenship “unconstitutionally revoked” on the basis of its Russian ethnicity. The SFUO’s polarized discussion structure would have limited Kazakov to speaking about his white privilege, thereby disregardinghis experiences of discrimination in Europe.

What’s more, the term “Caucasian” is highly controversial. German scientist Johann Blumenbach popularized the word in 1795, arguing that Caucasian skulls were the most symmetrical and beautiful. Additionally, he characterized other races as denigrations, or lesser forms of Caucasians. These theories were the pseudo-scientific foundations of Aryan/white supremacy, which later greatly influenced Adolf Hitler’s Nazi ideology. Considering such origins, “Caucasian” is an unsuitable word choice for an anti-racism event, as it also serves to group and define people by ethnicity.

This is not to mention the term’s inexact meaning. Some use it to refer to white people, whereas others subscribe to its original definition, referring to people from the Caucasus region of the world. Depending on interpretation, “Caucasian” includes racialized Arabs and East Asians. Now, which discussion group do they join?

These heated student responses were significant in that they addressed the complex social constructions of race — constructions which the SFUO event would have arguably worked to counteract. However, the underlying intention present in the event’s structure is just as important in addressing problematic racial politics.

The SFUO stated that it had “heard calls from many students of colour” who do not feel safe discussing their racialized experiences in large groups. This sense of discomfort arises because non-racialized individuals often derail dialogue into a gong show of denial or defensiveness (ex. “I’m colorblind” or “I’m not a colonizer”). The discussion then devolves into squabbling over the existence of racism, instead of a meaningful analysis of racialized experiences.

For example, several non-racialized students declared the SFUO’s event as discriminatory against white people, and therefore “reverse-racism.”Canada’s history is built upon the legacy of genocidal colonialism and the bodies of non-white folks; one discriminatory event does not constitute systematically disadvantaging white people.

Such a failure to recognize the nature of racism exemplifies why the SFUO wanted to split students into two groups. It wanted to ensure that white students realized racism in Canada stacks all odds against visibly non-white people, and Canadian society endows certain privileges upon people it deems sufficiently white. Without understanding this, no substantial discussion on race can occur.

It is also necessary that oppressed minorities have safe spaces to share their experiences. This means not having to constantly prove the existence of structural disadvantages, nor having to justify their anger, pain, and frustration to the dominant majority. Safe spaces are crucial for minorities to validate their experiences, and find the solidarity needed to create solutions to combat institutionalized prejudice.

Despite twenty-first century “post-racial” rhetoric, race is clearly still a pertinent issue today. We must move beyond shallow perspectives; race is not a dichotomous entity, nor is it simple discrimination. Only when we confront difficult truths about our society and our own internalized beliefs can we begin to alter oppressive structures and effect positive change.

Victoria Wicks is a first-year student at Trinity College studying political science and philosophy.