The Irony of White People Feeling Excluded

Recently, at Happy Hour, I had a conversation with a white female friend and co-worker that really made me stop and think. She told me that I, or rather we—meaning the Black staff at our job—were being racist because we have a Black staff organization. She felt excluded, like she wasn’t welcome because she isn’t Black, and to her, that was unfair. In that moment, I had to break it down for her—explain why Black spaces exist in the first place and why her feeling left out is not the same as experiencing racism. But this conversation wasn’t just for her. Too many white people walk through life completely blind to these realities, and when they do encounter them, they mistake equity for exclusion. So, I’m sharing this message with her (again) and with the world, hoping that maybe—just maybe—some white people will read this, learn something, and begin to truly understand.

It’s a wild concept that white people feel like they experience racism. Any time they feel excluded from something—a club, an event, an organization, any Black space—it’s suddenly unfair, unjust, and racist. But the truth is, Black people had to create these spaces out of necessity. White people were so deeply prejudiced and exclusionary that we weren’t allowed into their spaces, so we built our own. And now, when we finally have something for ourselves, they want to cry about not being included? The irony is crazy.

Take HBCUs, for example. Historically Black Colleges and Universities weren’t created to exclude white people—they exist because Black students weren’t allowed to attend white institutions. Black people were barred from higher education for generations, so we had to build our own schools. And now, when Black students choose HBCUs to experience an environment that prioritizes and uplifts them, some white people suddenly feel left out. They don’t see the history, just their feelings in the present. The same thing happens with Black organizations, media, and businesses. The NAACP was formed because Black people needed legal and social advocacy in a world that actively worked against us. BET was created because mainstream media ignored Black stories. Black-owned businesses exist because for decades, white-owned businesses refused to serve us. These things weren’t born out of exclusion; they were born out of survival.

The problem is, a lot of white people walk through life blindly. They don’t have to experience the struggles of being Black, of navigating a world that was never designed for us to succeed in the first place. So when they see Black people claiming space for ourselves, they don’t recognize it as balance—they see it as an attack. But that’s not what it is. These spaces aren’t about excluding white people; they’re about creating safety, community, and healing for Black people who have been historically denied those things.

And then there’s the classic excuse: “That’s not me, that's not who I am. I don’t think like that. My family did not raise me like that.” Okay, maybe not. But that doesn’t change the fact that they still benefit from a system designed in their favor. Their whiteness gives them the privilege of walking through life without constantly being questioned, doubted, or stereotyped. They don’t have to think about race every single day the way we do. And what’s even wilder? They have the luxury of opting out of these conversations entirely. They can ignore the reality of racism when it makes them uncomfortable. We don’t get that choice.

At the end of the day, white people feeling “excluded” isn’t racism. It’s them getting a tiny taste of what they (particularly their ancestors) built—a system where certain people weren’t welcome. The difference is, our spaces were made out of necessity, not oppression. There’s a lesson in that, but too many of them don’t want to learn it.