And social segregation is often the result, something with which Kristen Reid, a black junior majoring in health administration and education, is familiar. On a fall afternoon, she sits outside the Illini Union at a folding table for the student chapter of the NAACP. She is helping sell movie tickets for a benefit.

On campus, the NAACP has been interested primarily in education and voter registration, activities which Reid feels are important for blacks.

"We do a lot of awareness things," she explains. "I thought it was a good way to network."

Alexis White and Stephanie Bishop

The segregation is most apparent socially. "We go to a lot of events and organizations for blacks," Reid says. "At the end of the day, we all go to our separate corners."

And racism, she says, boils beneath the surface. After the black student union in her dorm hosted a karaoke night last year, notes were placed in a comment box. "They read, 'These black b—— need to sit down and shut the f—— up and get back on welfare,' 'Get these black people off the stage,' and so on," Reid says.

Reid and others considered organizing a sensitivity workshop to address the racist comments. "But it never really worked out," she says. "We figured that the people who needed to come, the same people who wrote those comments, wouldn't come to it, and therefore it would be pointless."

Williams agrees. "You can't force-feed your ideologies on other people," he says. "For all I know, my opinion could be wrong. ... My goal is to spark something in [people] to make them want to explore. People don't take well to being told."

Many whites may not see, or care to see, the ugly side. But they are well aware that whites and blacks live in their own worlds. "It's almost like a subculture," says Jenny Rush, a white senior English major who was sitting with a friend on the Quad one fall afternoon. "I'm not saying there's anything bad with it. Everybody likes their own music; everybody likes their own things. But I still don't feel hate or discomfort here."

Chancellor Cantor, one of the strongest advocates of integration at the University, recognizes that students of different races live separate lives. That some organizations and clubs cater exclusively to one group or another, or that students tend to socialize among their own races, is irrelevant, she says.

"It's an affirmation of people's own traditions. It would be unusual to expect us to not want to feel comfortable with our own," Cantor says. "It's completely natural that you have groups hanging out together, but there's also room for integration. What's important are the friendships that they do make."

The campus, she says, is at once a microcosm of the outside world, and a model for what it could be. "Yes, we live in a very segregated society. We have no practice with living together," Cantor says. "There are racial tensions here, but students do make friends across racial lines."

That crossover was successfully bridged years ago by Alexis White and Steffanie Bishop, who have been best friends since childhood. "She's a very special part of my life," says White, a UI marketing senior who is black. "She's my one and only best friend."

White says the color issue has never been brought up between them. "All my friends know she's my best friend," White says of Bishop, who is white and lives in Springfield. "They have to accept it, or they're really not my friend."

A large asset to their friendship, Bishop says, is that despite being of different races, "we learn from it and experience it with each other." Embracing the differences, she says, has helped her in life as well as in her friendship.

White has actively participated in campus groups and says she has always encouraged her friends to "step out of [their] comfort zone" and join diverse organizations. "I like people similar to me," she says, "but it doesn't hurt to know people of different backgrounds."

Marie Johnson '54 LAS, MS '58 ED, arrived at Champaign-Urbana as a transfer student in 1952 from Chicago where she attended the University of Illinois at Navy Pier. She chose to live in a small black sorority house, Alpha Kappa Alpha, where she knew she would feel comfortable.

Blacks and whites rarely lived together then and were unwelcome at many public establishments. "My social contacts were only with black students," Johnson says.

Johnson felt that white students made no effort to get to know her. "You would see somebody in class, and they would be all friendly, and then you would be walking on campus outside the class, and they wouldn't even look you in the face," she recalls.

Every two years, Johnson visits campus for a reunion with the Fifties Black Illini (FBI), a proud group of alumni that attended the University during the 1950s. During her last visit, she was surprised to learn of Homecoming events specifically titled "African-American."

"That raised my eyebrow. I didn't expect that and was kind of discouraged," Johnson says. "My disappointment and discouragement came from my feeling that the campus is still perceived by the current students in some ways as we did in the '50s. We had our separate parties primarily because other avenues weren't open while at the same time feeling a measure of safety and comfort in our own events."

Johnson believes black students today have greater opportunities to get involved on campus than she did. "I would suspect that there continues to be a feeling among black students that there is something missing, and this is a reaction on their part to address that gap, and they choose to take this route," she says.

Williams believes part of what's missing are activities that blacks historically associate with homecoming, such as a battle of the bands and a party. "The University's traditions are different than our own," he said.

Ten years after Johnson completed her graduate work, the University began its first major initiative to bring more blacks to campus in 1968 with Project 500, a groundbreaking experiment in affirmative action. Originally designed to recruit 500 black students, the project grew to include other underrepresented groups.

Nathaniel Banks

"Because of that time the people I went to school with saw this as a hostile place, and I did, too," Banks says. "Black and white people did not get along. We lived in two separate worlds."

Banks was a jazz trumpet player, and his interest in music brought him together with whites. "I got a chance to meet what we called 'hippies,'" he says. "But the more I interacted with them, the more differences I would see between us. They had the same racial notions as the people in Champaign. In my mind, they were all like this. This is when I got my black consciousness."

Dan Perrino '48 FAA, MS '49 FAA, was a dean of special programs and services in the late 1960s, as well as a musician. He helped form the Black Chorus for students after seeing how much they needed something to call their own. "Young people in the black community had no outlet," Perrino says.

Perrino, who is white, saw how isolated black students felt. "They were troubling times," he recalls. "There was a clear separation. Music played a very significant role when it came to race relations. The arts played an important role in bridging that gap."

As a student then, Banks sought refuge at the newly formed African American Cultural Program, of which he is now director. It was a place where blacks could congregate, discuss issues and seek guidance. "We saw ourselves having to create our own environment," Banks says. "There weren't any support systems at the University."

Black students had to find their own way. "It was something white students took for granted, being able to go to dances, parties, frats and social events," says Michael Jeffries, who now heads the UI Office of Student Minority Affairs, one of the support systems formed during that period.

"Black students wanted the same things the whites did," adds Banks. "When we couldn't find ways of getting our needs met, we went and did it on our own. Homecoming then was so lily-white, so we just started our own.

"Of course racism still exists," he says. "But it's my sense that the students are not the racists of the past. I think there has been a great deal of progress in that area. The campus is much better than when I was a student, but it still has quite a ways to go because we are working against the grain as a society."

Last fall, hundreds of people honored the past when they turned out for a march to celebrate the 35th anniversary of Project 500. Among them was Moises Jerez. "A lot of what [those students] did opened some doors for us," he says. "They should be commended and paid tribute to for what they did."

The march, as well as other Brown v. Board events, has been a source of pride. "It's a unique time that most of the black people on campus can get together to do something positive for ourselves," Jerez says. "It shows our unity and the power and influence that we have. Our voices are heard louder and our presence is magnified during these events, and we are then able to physically see our influence and importance."

Those pioneering students, along with progressive-thinking faculty and administrators, opened doors that have led to a campus full of organizations that promote diversity, peace and dialogue among the races — not just black and white, but the ever-expanding variety of racial and ethnic groups on campus.

One such student organization is Together Encouraging the Appreciation of Multiculturalism, or TEAM. The group organizes events like Culture Shock, which offers students samplings of food, dance and entertainment from various cultures; last year's attendance record neared 3,000. TEAM also sponsors an event at Allerton Park in which participants discuss racial and ethnic issues.

TEAM Coordinating Chairman Allen Eghrari

Professor Steinhorn of American University believes that despite longstanding racial divisions, there is progress, especially at the nation's colleges and universities. "We've always been a diverse world," he says. "What's happening on college campuses is that it's being recognized. It's important to give campuses their due."

But much work lies ahead. "It is entirely possible to desegregate without integrating," says Reid. "Desegregation may unlock doors, but integration is supposed to open minds, which is why some say that integration makes desegregation look easy."

Even with groups such as TEAM promoting diversity, Eghrari knows that creating deeper bonds among races is a challenge. "I do see a lot of interracial dating and more interaction, but there's still a long way to go," he says. "It's very easy to keep things on the surface. Underneath, there's a fear of getting to know people."

Jerez places the onus on human beings to reduce that fear. "The University's sole purpose should be to provide equal education for everyone — not to play mother and father in attempts to erase life experiences one has built into their character," he says.

"We need to make up our own minds and decide whether or not we're going to let our past histories determine how we should treat one another today."