The Brown & White

It's a beautiful day in Bethlehem, Pa. The sun is out, the sky is clear, and on top of everything, I just finished my only Friday class. As I walk down the street to my off-campus home, I spot an unleashed pit bull straight ahead of me. Even though we humans generally cannot distinguish an animal's facial expressions, I can tell he is sporting a scowl.

My body instantly fills up with anxiety. I have heard that once this kind of dog grabs a hold of you, it won't let go. I contemplate turning around so I won't have to put myself in harm's way, but I man up and keep walking.

The pit bull glares in my direction. I try to avoid any eye contact and continue walking. "Woof!" The pit bull lets out a thunderous bark and starts walking toward me.

I am only three houses away from my own, but the closer and closer the pit bull gets, the more and more I speed up. I feel his glare locked in on me, and I hesitantly look up at the massive creature. Now that I am much closer, I can see his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth and his short, stocky tail rapidly moving back and forth.

I think to myself, Option A: Should I make a dash for my front door and elude any encounter with this pit bull? Or, option B: Should I continue along at the pace I am going and give the pit bull the benefit of the doubt, even though they are perceived to be dangerous dogs? I decide to go with option B.

The pit bull comes up to me and starts sniffing my Jordan sneakers. He continues to sniff for a few more seconds, and then he is called back to his yard by his master.

"Sorry about that, buddy," his master says to me. "Champ is a good dog; he won't bite."

After my close encounter with Champ, I began to think about stereotypes. Without giving this dog a chance, I assumed he was violent and aggressive, simply because of his breed. I should've known better.

I've heard the comparison between black males and pit bulls on more than one occasion. Pit bulls are known for their aggressive behavior, recognized as the most athletic dogs, seemingly intimidating and most importantly, misunderstood by society.

These traits coincide with the black male image at Lehigh. These perceptions and fears stand in the way of genuine interaction between black and white students at Lehigh, specifically white females.

When black students meet someone new, they are often asked what sport they play, as if sports are the only reason a black student would attend Lehigh. When they walk into a party, they are often asked not to start trouble, as if black students are unable to have social interaction without it turning violent.

My experience at Lehigh has led me to draw troubling parallels between black and white students on campus and a childhood favorite, "The Three Little Pigs."

We have some white students at Lehigh who live in the "straw house;" these are the students with whom black students freely share sincere and meaningful interactions.

Next we have students who live in the "stick house." These students interact with blacks with a lot of uncertainty, leading to a half-hearted "hey" when they meet on campus or interactions that occur only on the weekends when alcohol is consumed.

Finally, we have students who live in the "brick house." This category accommodates all students who only feel comfortable with blacks at a distance.

Just like the big bad wolf, no matter what you do, there is no breaking through the barrier of bricks that shelters these students' mentality.

If the white students in the "brick house" category encountered a black person on the street, they would probably cross to the other side or turn around - much like my contemplation when I first encountered the pit bull.

Students need to be more open-minded to new and different ideas, cultures, religions, and races. You never know what you may learn or who you may meet. So next time, do as I did and choose option B.

And don't worry - we won't bite.

Greg Page is a junior sociology major. He is a sports writer for The Brown and White. His column, Just Breakin' It Down, appears alternate Fridays.