So I was watching the movie Malcolm X today.

As always, Denzel is bae.

But aside from Denzel’s gorgeous face and his red hot sex appeal, the movie got me thinking about how divided we are (within our nation and within our very selves) about racial issues.

I mean, of course it did. It was Malcom X’s life story…

Now I’m sure that the movie didn’t get all the facts right, or didn’t explore every nuance of the man’s life and ideals. But it doesn’t really matter what the REAL Malcolm X did or said, for the purpose of this article. What matters is that the movie got me thinking about racial issues that I’ve seen in real life. It reminded me of the things I’ve experienced, and seen others experience. One thing in particular struck me:

In the movie, Malcolm X says that the he and his organization believe that interracial marriage is completely undesirable.

COMPLETELY undesirable.

Let me tell you, as the product of an interracial marriage myself, Mr. X-from-the-movie kind of ticked me off. And my first thought was, “Well, at least people are different now.”

But they really aren’t.

When my mom was pregnant, let’s just say I was not about to win any awards from my extended family for “Baby We’re Most Excited to Greet into The World.” After I was born, though, of course I won them all over with my irresistible, interracial baby powers of super-cuteness.

But I digress.

Even though I was SUPER loved as a child, I still heard the “N” word used by people I was close to. Some of my friends and family weren’t allowed to date black people. Not, “anyone outside their race,” mind you. Black people.

How could I be so loved by friends and family, and believe me I was and am, while these kinds of things went on at the same time?

It is, in a word, weird.

In fact, it’s super weird.

In FACT, it’s so weird that I’m less mad about it and more confused by it. Why are people so weird about race? I’m young, and I don’t have all the answers, but I’ll tell you what I think. I think, today at least, we can lay a big part of the blame at the doorstep of two super annoying, super useless emotions: guilt and denial.

Well, I don’t actually think denial is an emotion, but whatevs.

Take the following example:

A few weeks ago, my aunt threw a baby shower for her son and his wife. She used our house since it’s veritably bangin’—it’s super spacious and has a pool in the backyard. So I’m in the kitchen cooking, making sure everyone has food and a drink, kind of helping to run the show, which I totally dig. Way better than participating in the baby related shenanigans. I’m very Miranda from Sex and the City about these things. ANYways, as each guest comes in, I go to make sure they’re welcomed. It was a real study of Southern charm. Enter a term family friend. She hugs me and my mom and my aunt, and she’s literally giddy with excitement. Apparently, her son is coming to the party with his new girlfriend.

“Oh my gosh, you guys, I’m so excited. He’s bringing a girl! She’s super sweet. I just love her. So she’s in school to be a nurse… they’ve been together about six months… oh, and she’s black.”

Our friend’s tone was completely peppy and enthused. No hint of racism about her.

But there was no way that, socially, the conversation could have refrained from being, in some way, racist.

When people of the same color date, does anyone mention skin color?

Lol, just imagine a white kid coming home to tell his mom about a girl. “Mom, I asked Angela out today. She’s really sweet, she’s smart, and she always wears the coolest sneakers. Oh yeah, and, um, she’s white, just fyi.”

Nope, doesn’t happen.

A lot of you are probably thinking that my friend shouldn’t even have mentioned the race of son’s significant other. But then again, if my friend hadn’t mentioned the race of her son’s significant other, that would have been racist too, in a weird way. Because a little shock would have been inevitable upon seeing her son walk in with a black girl on his arm. Socially, our friend needed to save us from displaying that shock and possibly causing hurt feelings.

For some, like me, the shock would have been slight. It would have been due to the simple fact that one just doesn’t see that many interracial couples in Cordova, Tennessee. For some, like me, the shock would have been heavily seasoned with pleasure, imagining more babies that look like me (I know, I know, they’ve only been dating for a few months. My biological clock is ticking, so sue me…), a more unified future, a world where my future babies can grow up and feel like they belong somewhere. Pleasure at open the mindedness of the youth in our time. For some, like me, the shock probably would have been barely visible and obviously harmless. For some, the shock would have been more visible and less benign. Our friend couldn’t assume we would all be the nice kind of shocked. Failure to mention the race of her son’s girlfriend would have been to omit a socially relevant piece of information for fear of seeming racist, which is just racism with a shadier face. Because racism is real in our society. We all know it. And ignoring it doesn’t help anything.

There was very little that our friend could do, in her situation, to avoid being racist when confronted with the issue of interracial love. And society has the same problem. Most of us are at least a little shocked when we see an interracial couple. Let’s face it, we are.

And it’s not exactly our fault as individuals. It’s society’s fault for making interracial relationships such a rarity. According to Google, interracial marriages make up just about 8.4% of marriages in the United States.

And while we’re facing stuff, let’s face something else. We know why that is, and it ain’t just “Because I just like what I like.”

Our family friend may have divulged the race of her son’s lover with nary a shameful eyelash batted, but not all parents can say the same. I know. I’ve been emotionally close to those who have batted that Eyelash of Shame. We as Americans have a very strange relation to race. We love our black friends but argue that “All Lives Matter.” We love our mixed friend but say, “I probably wouldn’t date a black girl.” This is weird, and it’s high time we own up to how weird we’re being. It’s high time we stop being so weird.

If only because interracial babies are adorable af, and are also less prone to physical defects and illness. They’re basically super-babies, so we should totally be making more of them.

The first part of owning up and fixing “it” is, in my opinion, owning up to the part we play in racism. And in my opinion, for most of us, that part isn’t cut and dry hatred or bigotry. It’s more complicated and insidious than that. It’s guilt about our internalized racism.

So last week you made some pretty shady assumptions about someone based on her/his race. And that made you feel like a bad person. It shamed you when you realized that that guy didn’t actually work there, that that woman was actually well educated.

How could you be with someone who made you feel bad about yourself? About whom you assumed such things?

But you’re not actually racist because you don’t always make those kinds of assumptions. It was just his T-shirt, her hair. And he/she looks like quite a lovely person.

Guilt, followed so quickly by the salve of denial that you barely feel the sting.

Even as you’re reading this, you’re probably going through your belief system, thinking about the way you treated that black (or white, or Latina/o, or Middle Eastern) clerk at the grocery store so nicely, about how you have so many [insert race here] friends. How you are a minority, and therefore cannot be racist.

And maybe you’re one of the few people out there who is truly free of the social, cultural, sometimes subliminal, but often overt, messages that cause us to harbor inclinations towards racial prejudice in the first place.

If so, I totally salute you.

But I know I’m not. Free from racism, I mean. And chances are, you’re not either.

And you know what? That’s ok. That does NOT make you a bad person. After all, it’s not really our fault. We can’t help how much society and culture influence us. It’s science. It only makes us bad people when we fail to improve on it, as quickly as we can. And how can we improve on it when we’re so busy feeling guilty about it and subsequently denying our racism in order to avoid the guilt?

NEWSFLASH: We can’t.

So stop feeling guilty about it. You’re probs a little bit racist. I, too, suffer from this affliction. It feels terrible, but owning it will make it own YOU less.

I’m not saying it’s ok to be racist. It’s not. Like, at all. I’m just saying that guilt and denial are just about two of the most useless emotions or mental processes that exist. I’m tired of feeling guilty for being half-white. I’m tired of feeling guilty for the racism (against many races, against black people, against myself) that I’ve unknowingly internalized. I’m tired of dealing with other people’s white guilt and soothing their fragile egos, assuring them with a face black enough to be convincing but white enough to be safe, “Yes, I know you’re not really racist, you just…” I feel so sad when I notice the guilt lurking in the eyes of some of my black friends, for internalizing beauty norms or social norms that almost always favor every nationality but theirs.

I’m pretty sure internalized racism is the main form of racism in the United States today. It’s like the flu. Ya caught it from somebody else. This time, this one time in your adult life, you can comfort yourself with the teenager’s cry of “It’s al their fault!” By all means, play the blame game with the media and your parents if that’s what it takes for you to shirk your guilt. Racist parents suck! The media sucks! Scream it from the rooftops. Rage about it. Rail against it. They spread their racist germs, the losers.

But just own that you caught it. Now what are you gonna do?

Are you gonna feel guilty that you caught the flu? No! That’s dumb. Some other inconsiderate or clueless A-hole gave it to you. Probably Bob. It’s his fault. Blame him. Eat Bob’s Thai takeout the next time you’re in the break-room and hangry and wanna get back at him. Are you gonna pretend that you don’t have the flu so you don’t have to pay the doctor’s fees and spend a couple of crappy days in bed? Again, that would be dumb, and also annoying for your co-workers. Nobody wants your flu, just like you didn’t want it from Bob. Similarly, feeling guilty about the bad parts of our natures and denying them is not only counterproductive to our own growth, it’s counterproductive to our neighbor’s growth, too. To our children’s growth. To our nation’s growth. We owe it to ourselves to just stop with the guilt and denial already so that we can get to the business of growing into better people, of recovering from our flu. So next time you mistake that guy for a worker at Home Depot, notice what you just did. You were just racist. Don’t feel bad about it, just be honest about it. And try not to do it again. The next time you automatically swipe left on Tinder because of someone’s race, notice what you just did and consider why. Was it because they were unattractive to you? Do you even know? Did you see her face, or just her skin? And remember, interracial babies are ADORABLE.

Let’s start small instead of tackling the huge problem of institutionalized racism in the United States. Let’s start with ourselves. Let’s admit to our own faults. Let’s try to be LESS racist people.

Let’s work up to the big one: A completely UN-racist nation.

Cause how is the media or the ghostly “establishment” ever gonna admit it’s racist when we can’t even do it? How are we gonna affect change in the world if we can’t even do it inside of our own hearts and minds?