too shocked to be hurt

We're reading a Gwendoyln Brooks poem that relies on its sonic qualities to put the reader in the place of the poem's subjects.
I was late for class because I was working on another assignment.
Apparently, the professor had asked the class to say the poem aloud to better grasp how the sound properties worked. Near the very end of the lecture (the part I was there for), he noted that speaking this poem is an especially uncomfortable thing to do - the class had just established that they were hesitant to recite aloud for fear of looking silly or getting things wrong - because it [applies] to a "constituency that, looking around the room now, we are not." And the Teaching Assistant directly in front of me sort of half-turned but didn't actually get his eyes around to me. (He had seen me come in late and was, apparently, the only person who knew I was in the room.)
My whole world just sort of shrank like a crumpled paper and then exploded back into form in a moment. I couldn't even feel myself blink because of the incredulity.

Now I must think --- if my professor had known I was there, would he have made the same comment and pointed me out? Would he have asked me to interpret? (I can see myself saying some regrettable things in response to this one...) Would he have said, "With the exception of one person, right, in a classroom of what?, right, - 60, 70 people?..." and continued on the same? (He interjects "right"s when he's externally processing something thick or delicate.) On the other hand, would he have not said anything at all? <-- that is the thought that scares me most, methinks. I have this intense, deep-seated fear and, I suppose, an inherent mistrust for large groups of exclusively white people. I'm sorry for that. I am sorry that I think this way. I need to change. What if he had made the exact same comment even if he had seen me in the classroom, ignoring my couleur? It boggles my mind to think that this was a moderately significant point in the course of this lecture that was essentially hinged on having a white majority class. (What is that?) Should his readings of texts not be independent of the people he lectures to? Maybe not. Maybe not, indeed; I'll leave that point alone.

I don't think I can even begin to touch upon the idea of "black language" and "white language" though the latter doesn't seem to exist. It seems to be the norm from which other "languages" deviate. What makes you think that blacks and whites are so different that we cannot speak the same language. Aside from localized slang, what is there? We're talking about subtext, aren't we? Are you saying that whites cannot read the Black Struggle? Can blacks read white language? Somehow I get the impression that we allegedly can. It's like, being segregated and oppressed, we were forced to create this series of knocks and clicks to communicate in the hull of a ship because only we know what's going on there. I'm making an analogy; I'm talking about our present-day ship. That's bogus.

When this poem was written (I think it was the 60s), I think the idea of being unable to read one another (blacks and whites, that is) was quite widely accepted. It's like..... hm. It may indeed have actually been a true phenomenon. But for seriously ------ this is not the 60s. I don't understand. I think we would get it (perhaps more especially in Guelph... maybe more so in upper years) if we weren't told that we could not understand by virtue of our race. That ain't right, that ain't right. It doesn't work that way.


arggh... I don't even know what I would say to this man, given the opportunity.