I am white. I am very, very white. And being a New Yorker who has always lived in tremendously diverse neighborhoods and gone to diverse schools, I am frequently hyperconscious of this because I envy the rich and vibrantly active cultures I see around me. My family has been in America so long we barely know what type of European we are, so we certainly don’t retain any of the cultural identity or tradition or connectivity that I see around me. I feel hesitant to complain too much about this because my white privilege and undeniable American-ness gives me so many other real-world advantages and it seems petty or greedy to look at my Mexican or Pakistani or Chinese neighbors and be envious of their ethnic and cultural enclaves, especially because these enclaves exist partially as protection and insulation from white prejudice, racism, and forcible assimilation. But nonetheless here I am, a middle class white girl jealous of the Mexican families that gather on their stoops for barbecues in the summer and jealous of the groups of chatty teenage hijabis on their way too or from the Islamic school mere blocks from my apartment because they have a cultural connection to each other that I simply do not have.
I understand completely why these tightly-knit communities exist and I want to be sensitive of the line between cultural appreciation and forcing my way into a community that does not and probably should not include me. I often feel as if white people like me living in diverse neighborhoods like mine want to leech the exoticism and “flavor”, if you will, from the ethnic communities around them without having to deal with the real-world consequences of being a member of these groups. This is why I look askance at Adam Ellick’s attempt to enter the secluded Korean bar so many times. In trying to feel more meaningful or infused with culture, he ended up forcing himself into an enclave that was distinctly designed as a respite from white touristy folks like him. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with learning about other cultures, eating different cuisines, or forming friendships across racial or class boundaries, it is when a voyeuristic white person tries to inject themselves into a situation or group that does not want them (like the Korean bar) in order to make themselves feel more culturally aware or to assuage white guilt that it becomes problematic.
