Yes, it was incredibly uncomfortable. One time it was a small coffee shop space—maybe 8-12 people, very intimate. I'm sitting on the floor, under a table, at 6'2", because it's a small space and I show up a little late, don't wanna take the last chair. Proceed to get shown a video about how white people take up space—a supreme bit of irony vis-a-vis essentializing—and then am asked to participate in a call-and-response where I say shit like "I am a white supremacist," "I need to make space for the black people that I and my ancestors have denigrated with structural racism," "I accept the black man's potent sexuality as superior to my own."
It was an exercise designed to be humiliating—classic s/m tropes—and was. I kept silent but my cheeks burned and I left afterward. Actually, my girlfriend at the time helped organize the event, which was why I was in attendance to begin with.