I think the whole problem with racism and its continuing legacy in this country is that we simply love it. Who would we be without the struggle?When I consider this in micro terms, as opposed to societal terms, I wonder about those of us (self included) who are brought up to seek love through victimhood. As if it is our weakness that allows us to receive love. (Perhaps shaped by only receiving parental affection when we are hurt, in pain, or otherwise crying?) And, conversely, our strength acts as a love repellent, and thus, we're afraid that if we are not weak, we are not lovable.
(See also: rooting for the underdog.)
I wonder how this might be related to the different races clinging to their racial identity in what may actually be a construct. It is safe, these roles. It provides a definition.
I don't know, but I do know that if, as a society, we are to integrate, we need to (at the leadership level) have frank discussions about where we want to be. Because, to Walker's point, maybe we do love it too much to let it go.