I will always remember the first cocktail hour I went to at a certain very southern, very conservative fraternity (known for pledging only white men) where all of the bartenders were black men and the frat brothers addressed them all as “boy.”
I had never experienced such overt racism in my life and I remember going completely numb. The racism was constant, it was accepted as ‘the way things were in the south’ and I’m still ashamed of only speaking up sometimes, when instances were too disgusting for me not to say something and call it out (ie rampant usage of racist and homophobic slurs at frat parties.) Even then it gave me a reputation of being “difficult,” “crazy,” and a “bitch” in the Greek system.
As a white woman at a school with deeply embedded misogyny, even with my immense privilege of being in a “good” sorority and from the “right” socioeconomic background, I felt powerless.