Being white in this country (and just about every country, for that matter) means you can do pretty much anything you want -- the Zimmerman case made that disturbingly clear. When white people are urged not to do something, it is typically because it would be insensitive to other human beings. And sometimes, as a white person, you just have to suck it up and contend with the actions of horrible people who came before you, because literally everyone else has it worse than you.

Throughout the night, most of the singers were white and sang songs almost comically exemplary of stereotypical square white folks. "My Sharona." "What I Like About You." Not just "Time Warp" but ALSO "Dammit Janet," both from "Rocky Horror Picture Show." The strangest moment came when two men of color from the formerly contentious group got up and sang "Day-O (The Banana Boat Song,)" popularized in white America by Harry Belafonte. The song has a weird dual status in my mind: it is a traditional calypso song, and Harry Belafonte has always been a civil rights advocate. But it's also an upbeat song about harvesting bananas, and in context, it felt charged. Nevertheless, the same group of people who had made the night primarily a cavalcade of Rocky Horror songs and '80s one-hit wonders got up and flailed their arms arythmically above their heads to the song as if Beetlejuice was compelling them to.

At last call, someone sang "Me and Bobby McGee," in the style of Janis Joplin. "Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose," the song goes. If that were true, Oscar Grant, Trayvon Martin, George Zimmerman, the San Francisco Giants, a Canadian actor in a hotel room, and a crowd of revelers in a karaoke bar would all be on the same level, but this night illustrated how big the gap between us, between those with freedom and those with nothing, keeps getting.

Trayvon MartinTrayvon Martin

Wake Up Call: We Are Not as Post-Racial As We Think