"This country is a mindfuck," one character says early in Dear White People Season 2.

In its first 30 minutes alone, Dear White People Vol. II makes good on that highly relatable statement, with Sam (Logan Browning) arguing with the internet and trying to convince people out of their point of view before realizing that that almost never works.

Season 1 was written as President Obama's second term drew to a close, when racism was supposed to be over, before there was any concept – or indeed, any real fear – of Trump's America.

Season 2 was created in another era, with new responsibility. The country may be divided during Season 2, but Winchester's historically black dorm has just been integrated. This only deepens the campus community's fragile fissures, with an emerging culture of alt-right provocation seeping onto the Winchester University campus.

As much as Season 2 feels like a response to America's political volatility, the style and tone haven't changed since Season 1. This was always the show Justin Simien was going to make, and it's still a searing commentary on the world we occupy versus the one to which we aspire.

"Is this a movement or a primal scream?" Sam's ex Gabe (John Patrick Amedori) asks her.

"Both," she says.

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A thin, surface-level critique would be that Dear White People is about privileged Ivy League students vocalizing think pieces about microaggression. But every single episode of Season 2 counterpoints that.

Snowflakes? Trigger warnings? Performative wokeness? It's all addressed by the insanely astute writing of Simien and his team. By now we've heard every debate about who is and isn't oppressed, but episode 1 watches Sam spiral and engage with the online troll @AltIvyW until she's reduced to tears.

"People need to understand that the thought process behind attacking someone just because of their race, ethnicity, gender, or whatever gender they identify as is just plain wrong, and it’s hurtful, and it causes harm," Antoinette Robertson, who plays Coco, told Mashable. "So to see Sam react – it’s like wait, there’s a person on the other side of that computer. Maybe I might not tweet that. Maybe I might not do that."

Logan Browning as Samantha White in Season 2 of 'Dear White People.' Image: Eddy Chen/Netflix

Season 2 picks up a month after Season 1, with students of the newly-integrated Armstrong-Parker dormitory still coping with events of the previous semester. The most impacted is Reggie (Marque Richardson), who was held at gunpoint, who still sees a campus security guard with a pistol when he closes his eyes. For the first time since we met him, Reggie takes a break from The Work; he's going to therapy, doing drugs with Troy (Brandon Bell), and indulging in a little sympathy sex.

"There’s a person on the other side of that computer. Maybe I might not tweet that. Maybe I might not do that."

He's not the only one. Several main characters siphon their confusion toward sex in Season 2, often with tertiary white characters. That is calculated, make no mistake. Simien's directors are measured in how and why they show black bodies, juxtaposing this with the on-screen sexualization of white ones. This, too, is a critique of the status quo, that those in power will not actively wield it against bodies of color.

By now, the cast inhabit their characters like familiar, comfortable clothing. Richardson finely threads Reggie's trauma and new "don't give a fuck" attitude; Bell nails his comedic timing, not only as Troy tries actual standup comedy, but with a delightful, soul-searching drug trip in a later episode. DeRon Horton's Lionel continues to steal every scene he occupies, whether he's trying to fit in with other gay writers or just brushing his teeth with Troy.

Image: Saeed Adyani/Netflix

In one episode, Sam, Coco, and Joelle (Ashley Blaine Featherson) leave Winchester behind entirely, and give us an exceptional examination of female friendship.

"Sisterhood is a multitude of things," Robertson said. "I just love the idea that they put all of these strong women together that have different views on different things and go about attaining their goals in different ways but then there are always things in life that bring us back together and you should never let anything petty get in the way of that kind of friendship."

"I think Joelle’s relationship with Sam is of chief importance to her," added Featherson, whose character copes with feeling like she's in Sam's shadow. When Sam finally asks Joelle to join her radio show, it emboldens her. "I almost think it liberated her to end up dating more, and to feel like she could explore other people, and even be more – you know, be more honest with Reggie and be like ‘I don’t have time for your games, BYE.’"

Dear White People was always a show about identity, and the idea that identity is not limited to race. Season 1 saw the characters relating differently to being black, while Season 2 delves further into other parts of who they are – Coco's ambition, Joelle's pride, and for Sam, her whiteness in addition to her blackness.

"As somebody who feels guilty as a light-skinned black person, as someone who feels empowered because she is a woman of color, she navigates that space and she is forced to come to grips with the white side of her and how she relates to that," Browning said. "It’s a very complicated experience for her to be seen as one thing but her makeup is literally 50-50 down the line."

Drinking buddies! Image: Tyler Golden/Netflix

And ultimately, Season 2 is underscored by the idea of satire: what is it, where does it end, and for whom is it intended? When not intended to criticize the powerful, it becomes the weapon of anarchic provocateurs and the sycophants who take their agenda too far. What Vol. 2 has – something that even Netflix's roster of superhero shows could learn from – is a clear villain, outlined from episode 1: @AltIvyW.

Tweets from the anonymous Armstrong-Parker resident and their enthusiastic followers range from critiques of Sam's politics to references to her black mother as a monkey. It's horrifying, and it all comes from real comments the cast and crew have received on social media.

"Satire a lot of times is used to educate – these statements that a lot of people are making are not educating anybody, they’re hurting people, and there’s a difference," Featherson said. "That’s what we’re talking about with @AltIvyW, that’s the whole thing. You're hiding behind this persona on the internet; you see me every day, you would never say that to my face."

Dear White People Vol. 2 is now streaming on Netflix.