Sometimes I wish I weren't a white person.

So many white people have this inherent attitude that has subconsciously been perpetuated for generations. I don't think a lot of us realize it, but it exists.

White supremacy: the white man's ultimate birthright.

It's our right to be top dog in the rat pack that is life, right?

After all, we are the ultimate race, breaking from an institution we didn't believe in (the Anglican church) and traveling hundreds of miles on three little ships to plant the seedlings of a burgeoning nation.

And how about that revolution where we fought a bloody battle to become independent from authority so we could ultimately rule ourselves?

The Founding Fathers. Yes, they were my fathers, a bunch of white guys who were full of contradictions.

Thomas Jefferson, eloquent writer of the great Declaration of Independence, is a good example: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

Beautiful words, Mr. Jefferson. Words every white American grasps onto and can proudly recite.

Yet Jefferson must not have believed this, because he was a slave owner himself.

This is why I am not proud of my heritage and the fact that such a thing as white privilege ever existed.

If I were of any minority group, I would be incredibly offended, sad that the majority of white people don't even want to admit such a privilege still exists.

Take, for instance, my father. During winter break, I got into a lengthy debate with him, a 57-year-old white man. He dropped out of college because he didn't agree with the "high-falutin' philosophy" of "those screwball professors," so his experience with anyone other than a white mountain man is limited.

He owns his own business and has worked his entire life as a logger in the mountains of central Pennsylvania.

A Paul Bunyan stepped from the pages of a tall tale, my dad likes to embellish deer-and-bear hunting stories, and when he laughs, his top lip curls back over gapped front teeth. His favorite shirt is a red-checked flannel.

Broad chested, overgrown bearded and generally as ornery as a black bear, he had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned white privilege.

When I explained it to him, he vehemently disagreed that such a thing exists and said I'm perpetuating racism myself by believing that it does.

"And what about affirmative action and how the tables are turning now?" he wanted to know. "White men are getting turned down for jobs simply so employers can meet a quota of having enough minority employees. It doesn't matter who's the best for the job."

Well, that isn't fair but neither is the fact that minorities still get slighted on a daily basis. How fair is it that when I go into a department store, the sales clerk asks me if I need help long before she asks the black girl standing next to me?

Although my dad might seem rather archaic and is not the most versed on contemporary issues concerning racism and white privilege, he has always taught me the basic principle that everyone should work for what they get.

After about two hours of debating, I think he began to see the point I was trying to make: Even with affirmative action and the general progression of society, minorities still don't have the equal opportunities that they deserve.

And all I was saying was that everyone deserves the same chance.

And the relevance of all of this?

Being an editor at the Collegian and a member of the Board of Opinion, I hear complaints all the time that we are unfair and biased against minorities. That is not the case. We're having tryouts for people to become staff members, and I hope students of all races, sexual preferences and backgrounds will join our staff. The more diverse we are, the better we can represent the student body as a whole.

I heard the news before you did about last semester's racist e-mails and hate crimes. But I've never heard about white students receiving threatening letters or having rocks thrown at them.

I hope this semester will be different, and as a community, we will work together so no one will have to deal with such injustices.