When I heard that black Columbia University professor Lionel McIntyre punched out a white university employee, I was obviously taken aback. I was even more intrigued by the fact that the two were having a heated conversation about white privilege when the alleged punch took place. Given that the fight was in a bar, I immediately thought about the Jamie Foxx excuse: "blame it on the alcohol." My goddaughter is an athlete at Columbia, but I had no idea that Columbia University professors could be so athletic in their free time. Although professor McIntyre's actions are obviously inexcusable, the truth is that our actions "under the influence" tell a deeper story about our psyches, so there is more to this incident than meets the eye.

1) Call me crazy, but I understand how Lionel McIntyre felt. I would never punch out anyone from the frustration I've felt when dealing with white privilege, but then again, that is probably why I chose not to drink alcohol, since I am genuinely concerned about how I might react to the stinging pain of consistent racism. What is also true is that although some black scholars are afraid to admit it, many of us have felt incredibly angry and irritated by the arrogant nature of white privilege within academia. It's not that black scholars dislike their white colleagues, it's that many of us are tired of being thought of as second-class citizens. If any black Ph.D. student or professor says they haven't thought about jumping over someone's desk and "whooping ass" at least once, they're telling a lie. Some of us hold in the frustration until we die of heart disease. Some of us submit ourselves to the system and become groveling Sambos, while many black scholars simply leave academia altogether. Either way, there is as much frustration for black scholars in America as there is within nearly every other profession dominated by whites. So as the comedian Chris Rock once said in a skit about O.J. Simpson, "I'm not saying he should have done it, but I understand."

2) Academic imperialism affects us all. One of the great challenges of being a black scholar is what my colleague Christopher Metzler refers to as "academic imperialism." It is the belief that black scholars must be "trained" to behave like their colleagues and that scholarly activities that involve the black community are typically considered second rate, worthless and "unscholarly." I get that criticism regularly from some of my less-open-minded colleagues at Syracuse University, as the campus administration has shown no support for our fight to save Heather Ellis, the college student facing 15 years in prison for cutting a line at Wal-Mart, but would be happy to congratulate us for writing a research paper in a journal that no one ever reads. If I were off saving whales or fighting to reduce carbon emissions that would be deemed more meaningful than saving the life of a black woman stuck under the fist of racism. Much of this narrow-minded thinking is a result of white privilege, created by the fact that white professors get the benefit of teaching on a campus that spent nearly 100 years effectively excluding African American thought from the table of intellectual conversation. As a result, white privilege can hang from the walls of many American campuses like ivy on the side of a building. Many campuses don't hire or promote the scores of black professors who apply for jobs because, in the words of campus officials, "There are simply no qualified black people out there." The translation is that "there are no black people out there that we find to be acceptable." So Lionel McIntyre wasn't just punching a colleague at Columbia; deep down, he may have been throwing a blow at his academic slave master. McIntyre certainly went overboard, but no one enjoys the plantation.

3) While no one needs to be punched, there certainly needs to be a conversation. When I reached out to a friend in the Obama administration to encourage a national conversation on race, that was one of the few e-mails that he did not return. When I talk to my campus about having an honest racial dialogue, feet start shuffling and eyeballs turn toward the ceiling. America has a festering racial sickness, and we don't want to treat it. Rather than doing the hard work to fulfill the dream of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., we are more comfortable with cheesy annual banquets and empty brochures touting unfulfilled initiatives on diversity. Professor McIntyre's "punch heard around the world" is obviously a reminder to all of us that something is wrong in America. The same evidence of "racial roaches" crawling out of the closet was seen during the division between blacks and whites over the Henry Louis Gates case, the Michael Vick case, Hurricane Katrina and the O.J. Simpson trial. Whites and blacks are on completely different pages, and that hasn't changed very much in the last 100 years. I can at least give professor McIntyre and Camille Davis (his victim) credit for discussing race relations at all. We should also realize that the unfortunate outcome of this conversation is a reminder of why many African Americans and whites are afraid to talk about race. So rather than dealing with it and confronting this 400-year-old problem, we walk on eggshells around the halls, with white professors turning their noses up at the black professors, and black scholars scowling past the white ones. A conversation on race needs to occur, especially within academia, but given the sensitive and volatile nature of this topic, America's discussion on race should definitely not be a beer summit. We can't just blame it on the alcohol.


Dr. Boyce Watkins is a Professor at Syracuse University and author of the book, "Black American Money." To have Dr. Boyce commentary delivered to your email, please click here.