I would like to comment on the situation unfolding at many of America’s universities. My father was a white man born in Kingston, Pennsylvania and my mother is a black woman born in Kingston, Jamaica. They met on a blind date sometime in 1984, and, well, here I am. In my family, racial discussions were very common because many people were visibly shocked to learn that my parents were together. They had to explain to me when I was very young what all the fuss was about. And let me tell you, as a six-year-old, it made no sense to me, whatsoever, that this was a big deal. I filed it as just another unknowable mystery of grown-ups, right up there with why I had to have a bedtime and whether fish slept or not. Because, of course — and this is a beautiful thing — as a kid all you know is that, hey, these are my parents, and I love them.

There are a lot of aspects to this debate about what constitutes free speech, what is too politically correct, and where we are on race. I’m not going to rehash what you’ve undoubtedly read or heard on both sides already.

There is just one thought I want to make sure is clearly articulated:

The silly thing about stereotypes is that, even though no two people are the same, a stereotyping mind decides that a mere handful of characteristics can somehow define an enormous group of people. Taking this initial error as a given needing no further explanation, there are certain stereotypes that are especially damaging.

For example, consider the following, which, notably, can apply to many stereotypes:

Let’s say you decided to dress up as “black” for Halloween. Let’s then say you turn on the TV to see what “black” is, and you take notes. Next, let’s say you absorb those stereotypes — and I’m not going to enumerate them here — and act them out for Halloween. Although this is certainly a constitutional exercise of your free speech, it also reinforces what “black” is, even though, in reality, skin color is just one of many different attributes which make up a human being. Let’s say, further, that perhaps one of these stereotypes is a “gangsta” image, and, accordingly, you exude that in your costume.

Now imagine that on campus someone who perhaps has never met a black person before sees your costume. This stereotype becomes their first impression, and first impressions can be lasting.

Moreover, some other people, including people of color, sort of do a mental check to this effect: “Ok, that’s a person ‘acting black.’” It’s not necessarily that the spectator is in active agreement with the stereotype; it’s more like waves of the stereotype are crashing over the beach of your mind, again and again, gradually eroding the sense of freedom and self-belief that you need to go after your God-given potential.

And this image sits around in everyone’s head, Halloween after Halloween, joke after joke. And as this becomes increasingly widespread it leads to serious problems.

In a tense and adrenaline-heavy encounter, such as a random confrontation between strangers or a run-in with the law, these waves of stereotypes grow into a full-fledged bias. This bias often escalates to the point where one actor takes the error-laden stereotype into account during his or her fight-or-flight response. Spiraling out of control further still, the other person may, in turn, react more aggressively. Remember, both parties don’t know each other, both parties are basically assuming the worst, and both parties don’t want to take any chances with their own security.

Further, to a young black child who is growing up and who may want to, say, be a scientist, a lawyer, a mechanic, or a doctor, instead of a ‘gangsta’, this widespread stereotype can stem a corrosive cognitive dissonance that I have seen in so many young minds.

I see this whenever a child says to me, “I’m black, but I don’t ‘act black.’” This is, in my opinion, an equally detrimental outcome, perhaps even harder to eradicate, because it reveals itself privately and invisibly in a young person’s own psyche when young people count themselves out of roles in which they would have been superstars — had they just believed in themselves, had they only thought that they could do it. In fact, I believe this was a major reason why Dave Chappelle walked away from $50 million and quit his eponymous comedy show.

Knowing all of this, it is not unreasonable for a person of color to view a simple Halloween costume as a threat because this single costume is a stark, in-your-face reminder of forces that you have encountered more subtley before and been unable to eradicate.

This is not to say that costumes are to be banned, and there are many people of color who are just as responsible for the perpetration of their own stereotypes as anyone else is.

I just wanted to articulate why sometimes these costume jokes are not as funny as they may seem at first blush.

George Hayward is a JD/MBA joint-degree candidate. Contact him at ghayward ‘at’ stanford.edu.