"WHAT colour am I?", he bellowed in my face. Everyone around stopped eating and looked in our direction. "Sorry?", I squeaked, pathetically. In front of me stood a 6ft-7 African American who I'd offended, but for the life of me, I couldn't understand how.
He wasn't finished with me. "What colour do I look to you? Do I look blue, green, yellow or black?"
Not being a complete moron, I quickly realised the correct answer and dutifully replied: "Black."
He responded: "Damn right I'm black – not 'coloured' – and don't you forget it."
I found this misunderstanding especially upsetting as my childhood heroes had all been either black or Asian. I'd loved the arrogant brilliance of Muhammad Ali and been inspired by the oratory of Martin Luther King. I also somehow managed to identify with both Malcolm X and Gandhi.
This, my first – but not last – experience of being politically incorrect, happened during a trip to New York in 1979 that I'd won via an All-Ireland Debating competition.
I was a gauche child, with little knowledge of the world outside north Belfast, much less a continent away. Arriving in New York back then, the two things I found fascinating were the size of the cars and black people. The world I'd left behind was so white it was translucent, so to be suddenly dropped into the most multicultural city in the world was both enjoyable and bewildering.
The organisers of the trip had arranged a 'friendly' debate with Xavier High School, one of the top private schools in New York. Walking through the richly ornate mahogany doors, I realised this was a world away from the multicultural America I'd just encountered.
Here was white America with a capital 'W'. If the Stepford wives had offspring, they'd have attended here; every boy was immaculate in school uniform, and all had identical Kennedy haircuts.
While our hosts had envisaged some form of mutual appreciation event, we quickly disabused them of this presumption. While the Xavier boys waxed lyrical on Ireland and its many contributions to the US, we launched into a savage critique of the then ongoing 'Contra' war in central America, condemning the US as the world's new imperialistic superpower.
When a Xavier boy countered with the old trope that only the US offered opportunity for all, I pointed into the audience made up of the school body and asked, "If that's true, why then is there only one coloured face in this school?"
After the event, a meal was laid on where I tried my first ever slice of pizza. Suddenly it felt like someone had turned off the lights. I looked up, as otherwise I'd have been talking to this guy's belt buckle. Towering over me was the 'coloured' student I'd singled out during the debate and the conversation I noted earlier ensued.
Back then, I doubt many adults back home would have known the acceptable verb to describe African Americans. The kind of embarrassing mistake I made 40 years ago is today becoming the norm, with what constitutes acceptable language shifting with such regularity that even those with the best intentions find themselves adrift and condemned.
Once the crucibles of debate, our universities are becoming sterile wastelands, gutted of all opinions viewed 'offensive'. Students today are so fragile that discussion of topics such as racism, sexism or homophobia are beyond their tolerance, unless those speaking adhere to acceptable liberal norms.
New terms such as 'woke' have entered our vocabulary, describing someone highly conscious of oppression and injustice in all its forms. Yet, someone who is 'woke' can alternatively be redefined as 'a snowflake', indicating someone overly-sensitive and fragile.
Our problem is that nobody knows who set the parameters of what is and is not 'politically correct'. Due to this, the list of banned subjects and speakers increases daily. To ban those whose opinions we find offensive runs the risk of making martyrs of rogues and giving undue gravitas to idiocy.
Instead of turning our gaze away, I say face them and let them speak. Then clinically discredit their bigotry and intolerance with intellect and reason – this has always been the bedrock of a free democratic society. Censorship and banning of that which we revile belong more to the Taliban than third-level education. Offence, in and of itself, should never be used as an excuse to hinder free speech.
The late great polemicist Christopher Hitchens captured it best when he said, "If someone tells me I've hurt their feelings, I say, 'I'm still waiting to hear what your point is'".
