The more I learned about the Third Conference, the more enthusiastic I became about going up to Wesleyan for the weekend. Interracial student groups from several schools signed on as conference co-sponsors. The line-up of speakers, lecturers, and performances made it clear that Wesleyan's organizers had successfully networked within the interracial community. Danzy Senna, the author of Caucasia, would present the keynote speech on Sunday, the final day of the conference, at 4pm. The Monday after the conference I was scheduled to facilitate a diversity training at North Rockland High School and needed to wake up at 6am. If I stayed for the keynote address Sunday afternoon, I would not get a good night's rest. I almost decided to pass on the conference all together, but as luck would have it, my interracial friend was willing to drive to Middletown and back with me.

Upon arriving at Wesleyan, the campus was in chaos. I soon found out that this was because Secretary of State Madeline Albright was speaking that day. Luckily, my friend and I made it to the World Music Hall while conference attendees were still registering for the two days. Displays were set up behind the sign-in table on the lower level of the World Music Hall. A student from Smith's psychology department handed out surveys targeting interracial people. The Family Diversity Project displayed a series of books on various themes relevant to the interracial experience. The Interracial Club of Buffalo sold books on a variety of interracial topics. The titles of several of the historical romance novels would offend many of my politically correct brothers and sisters.

After finding a spot in the audience on the main level, I checked out the faces around the hall. I saw some I recognized and others I didn't know. Some students attended Wesleyan while others came from nearby Northeast colleges. More were there than I remembered from the last conference; still, the room wasn't as crowded as I had expected it to be.

The event attracted many different types of people who fall under the 'interracial umbrella'. Representatives from the schools who had lent their names to the event attended as did interracial individuals, students or non-students, from as far away as Arizona, Florida, Bermuda, and Canada. Interracial couples were there with their families as well as interracial individuals with their non-interracial friends and partners. I'm pretty sure I saw some monoracial people.

Looking around at the conference attendees, most were of college age. At this time in their lives, young people are ripe for examining their identities. Being away from home for the first time, these young adults start thinking about themselves separate from but in relation to their families. Campuses tend to be so political that students are forced to define themselves. Since academic environments support free thinking, young adults have access to the tools they need to confront their issues. These factors make it easiest to organize around the interracial identity during one's college years.

After I graduated from Wesleyan in 1994, I started a discussion group for interracial people in New York City. I found it challenging to organize the post-undergraduate age group outside of a campus setting. Even though some of my friends had been active in interracial groups in college, the need to process their issues around race and identity was no longer present to the same degree. I found that identity development took second place to career and social development for most interracials unless they had not had the opportunity to process their experiences with other interracials earlier in their lives.

I was ecstatic to find myself in the midst of the conference's multiracial environment. In general, being around people makes me happy, but being around people with whom I share interests intensifies my joy. I wanted to learn each person's story. I often introduce myself to strangers and start conversations with them although I'm a shy person by nature. In certain settings that character trait can be beneficial, yet at gatherings such as conferences where exchange is essential, I am able to force myself to overcome my fear of others.

Saturday's program started late. Concurrent to our quiet convocation, we heard voices protesting the U.S. involvement overseas. It seemed ironic that protesters raised objections to the U.S. government's actions while our gathering's expression faced no opposition. Thirty years ago the tables would be turned.

Brown's Organization of Multiracial and Biracial Students (BOMBS) began the program with a dramatic piece combining word, music, and movement. The work originated during the week their school devotes annually to people of interracial heritage. The audience was asked to write any thoughts about being interracial on 3 x 5 cards so that the responses could be integrated into future versions of the show.

I was inspired by the performance. I asked myself why I hadn't ever written or collaborated on a dramatic piece like theirs. Having recently attended several Black History Month events in New York, I was equally impressed by the fact that Brown devotes a week to interracial people. I hadn't heard of extended celebrations catering to interracial people. One of the arguments against week or month long celebrations of particular affinity groups is that the people who belong to them should be integrated into the larger discussion of history; nevertheless, the broader acknowledgment of the existence of interracial people affirmed my identity. Wesleyan conference organizer Laura Hymson welcomed the audience. She had addressed the group two years earlier, and it was clear that she had matured over those years. Her speech challenged attendees to think about the concept of community and its relevance to this conference. She asked about the boundaries and goals of this community. In my own experience of organizing amongst interracials, I found that the community's historical invisibility, partly by choice and partly by law, has made any acknowledgment of its existence problematic.

After Laura's address, Matt Kelley, editor-in-chief of MAVIN, spoke. He recently launched the magazine, and a copy of the first issue was included in a pocket of our conference brochures. I was glad to finally see the person whose brainchild had generated so much attention. He had a style and an ambition that allowed him to relate to all people and hopefully all people to his product.

As with BOMBS, Maura Nguyen Donohue also used word, music, and dance to express her interracial experience. When You're Old Enough made me think about the significant impact our interracial backgrounds have had on all of us. The piece reflected the problems and challenges that this factor presents in families and how each family deals with the issue. No matter how the interracial person reconciles her issues, the story of that process never bores me. Many of us tell our stories through art. I tell mine through my writing.

The opening activities ended after Donohue's piece. Later in the afternoon, attendees joined for the Semi-formal convocation dinner. My friend and I sat at a table with people we didn't know. Over the course of the meal, one Canadian student explained that, because many people have been born to interracial unions in her home country of Bermuda, she wanted to set up an organization for them. I introduced her to students from Wellesley's interracial student group. I enjoy connecting people with each other since we all gain through our individual efforts. At the last conference, FUSION was only discovering its walking legs, so I was pleased to see the student group now standing on its feet.

Later that evening, several of us reconvened for campus festivities. One of the students from Wesleyan's Interracial Student Organization hosted an off-campus party. We walked into a two-story house full of young men drinking beer. Being one who doesn't often drink, I never really get excited about these sorts of parties; nevertheless, I was impressed with a certain aspect of this keg party. There were the same types of young white men I remembered seeing during my college years; however, the party also had a fairly good mix of black men. It wasn't like the black guys were in one corner, and the white ones were in the other. As turned off as I was by the mass alcohol consumption, I was pleased to see the mixing of cultures.

More directly on campus, Ujumaa, Wesleyan's African-American student group, hosted a party at Psi-Upsilon, one of Wesleyan's fraternities. During my first year at Wesleyan, the black community would frequent Psi-U because it was the only fraternity that played hip hop, but by my senior year racial stratification had become so pronounced that black people wouldn't be caught dead in any of the frat houses. From the variety of complexions and persuasions I saw hanging and dancing in the Psi-U hall, things had obviously changed over the last five years. The music was as varied as the crowd. Apparently over this past year, four African-Americans pledged Psi-U.

I danced with different circles of interracial people. I know it was not my job, but it felt important to me to make sure even those individuals who had come on their own felt a part of the larger group. I felt like the big sister since my own sister is the same age as these students. As an advocate for the interracial identity, I like helping those of us within the community, many of whom would otherwise feel alone, see its presence. Before I discovered the interracial community, I often felt alone.

With our best days of college partying behind us, my friend and I left early. In reflecting on the day's events, I was very pleased. I felt like I had been reunited with my extended family. Some relations I had never met, while others I hadn't seen in several years. Someone even asked if my friend and I were siblings. Other than our coloring and the fact that we both have a Jewish mother and a Black father, we look nothing alike. Since there was unanimity between everyone at the conference, I could understand how any of these brothers and sisters could be mistaken for my biological siblings.

The first day satisfied my need for bonding. I established the connections I wanted to make. Anything more would be icing on the cake. I decided to head back to New York the next morning. I'd miss Danzy if I left, but I would run into her again through our mutual friends in New York when it was meant to happen.

The next morning my friend and I attended the first lecture, given by Interracial Voice's own Charles Byrd. At the front of the lecture hall, Byrd sounded like a professor of interracial studies. Byrd stated that the creation of new racial categories in the present would pave the way for transcending those categories in the future. I deeply appreciate his contributions to the recognition of the interracial community, and to a larger degree--the human race. The breadth of his knowledge about the interracial persona was evident.

I liked where he was going with several of his points. By advocating for the interracial identity and community, I also attempt to transcend difference. I believe that rising above those differences leads to true spiritual fulfillment, yet I took issue with the manner of the conversation that followed.

By the end of the discussion I felt that the original intention of the discourse had not been satisfied. I'm not sure why I felt that way. Maybe the audience's comments redirected the conversation. Maybe the facilitator changed his course. Maybe I stopped listening. Maybe the lack of clarity was uncomfortable for me because the interracial topic hits so close to home. Maybe it had to do with the structure of the conference. Maybe my control issues got in the way. Maybe it was a combination of all these factors.

The workshop started as academic discourse and ventured into group therapy. It was obvious that certain members of the audience needed to share their stories, and frankly, academia did not seem the most constructive or the most appropriate place to air this laundry. As a specialist who facilitates workshops about diversity, I know that it's imperative to start these conversations by establishing ground rules. Ice breakers help launch exercises where people discern their identity and issues. After that, larger institutional structures can be addressed productively.

I am usually comfortable with sharing personal experience, but I think this sort of exchange can be most fruitful in safe places with clear boundaries. Clear boundaries accelerate the healing process. A discussion group is an excellent context for this healing. I was concerned because I have often seen more damage than good occur when these guidelines are not constructed.

We are all in different places with our interracial identities. Not all of us have been afforded opportunities to work through our experiences. Some of us take Interracial Studies 101, and others of us take 400 level tutorials. Some of us need remedial courses; some of us need to repeat courses; others of us are ready to be teacher assistants.

It can be very frustrating for students when the class material is either beyond their grasp or something which they have already covered. In order to ensure that those who enroll are prepared for the material that will be covered, it is critical that the teacher of the course specify the course number and department. It's also important for students to know the class description.

We headed back to New York after the lecture. We drove home discussing the issues Byrd raised as Byrd had encouraged us to do.

Through email later that night, I learned that Danzy's reading was lovely. The following Monday morning, my training partner called to tell me that he was sick. Our training was canceled. Although I was disappointed to have missed the rest of Sunday, I had already gotten what I needed from the conference. It had been a terrific trip back to my alma mater.

The end.