Although it is a part of our national dialogue, most of us do not find ourselves talking about racism every day in Maine. Maybe that’s because the state is predominantly white. Maybe it’s because we consider ourselves progressive, liberal, enlightened. We’re not racists, we may say, but how would we know if we were?

Rebecca Gilman’s “Spinning Into Butter,” running through Feb. 12 at the Bangor Opera House, attempts to answer that question by imagining the consequences when several overtly racist incidents take place at a mostly white liberal arts college in New England. Where Gilman really does the probing, however, is with the subtler forms of racism, the ones embedded in language, gesture and insinuation, the ones that live inside our quiet thoughts.

Gilman finally doesn’t answer any of these questions, but by raising them, she opens the window onto a world of persistently inclement weather. Intellectuals can talk all they want about diversity, but actually being culturally sensitive is still one of the most pervasive problems in American life. When Gilman’s show opens, Sarah Daniels, dean of students, is just settling into her work to promote ethnic diversity on campus. By the end, she is brought to her knees because of her shortcomings as a champion for the underrepresented.

When I saw “Spinning Into Butter” several years ago, I remember disliking the script. The characters were almost entirely unlikable, the scenes were overly long, and the writing wasn’t as eloquent as David Mamet, to whom Gilman is sometimes compared. Despite these criticisms, however, the play had staying power. Although I found it unbalanced politically, it forced me to examine my own thoughts and actions regarding race. I like art that does that, even if I am less impressed by its execution.

The current production by Penobscot Theatre Company did little to change my mind about the script generally. Nathan Halvorson, a visiting director from New York City, moves the actors in so many directions that whatever continuity Gilman does give the play gets muddied. It’s as if some characters are in a spoof, while others are in a serious drama. For instance, Ken Stack, chair of humanities, is buffoonish, while Rich Kimball, as a security guard, is demure. Kent D. Burnham, as a pompous art professor, seems as if he’s on a TV sitcom. Greg Sullivan, as a scheming student, seems to be on 10 sitcoms for all the acting he packs into a small role. And Alison Cox, another dean, is tremendously formal. It’s ridiculous to suggest that all actors should “act” the same, but they all should be working within the same vision.

In the lead, Tracy Liz Miller is more measured in her portrayal of Sarah, but she never quite allows her the hipness or the intellectual rigor one would expect from a person in her position. Part of the problem is Gilman’s histrionic writing; Sarah can come across as whiny whether she’s revealing her inner racism or exposing her white guilt to a student. Sarah faces many difficult situations in the course of this play, and Miller, who has a very pleasant stage presence, doesn’t convincingly mine those complexities under Halvorson’s direction. She is at her best opposite Ace Marrero as Patrick, a New York City kid who describes his ethnicity as Nuyorican.

Of all the cast members, Marrero gets the right tone, even as he endows Patrick with a false sense of heroics. Patrick doesn’t exist outside of the system he’s fighting, and he’s clever enough to work his options when racial tensions flare. Marrero probably goes too far in portraying him as youthfully benevolent, but his naturalness and ease onstage are the best thing this production has going for it.

Including Lex Liang’s set. Very little about Sarah’s office, where the entire play takes place, says New England. A church bell rings, but the fragmented set pieces, including fir trees and tall windows, do not achieve that traditional tweediness of a campus in the Northeast.

“Spinning Into Butter” takes its name from the children’s tale about Little Black Sambo who watches tigers chase each other so quickly around a tree that they whirl into butter. That’s Sarah’s journey, and it’s an important, though finally unresolved one. In Gilman’s hands, it should be ours, too. Even if the ensemble connections are missing in this production, the power of the story is that it has the potential to make us think about our own attitudes regarding race. We may live in a mostly white state, but that doesn’t excuse us from thinking deeply about color.

Penobscot Theatre Company will present “Spinning Into Butter” Thursday-Sunday through Feb. 12 at the Bangor Opera House. For information, call 942-3333 or visit www.penobscottheatre.org. Alicia Anstead can be reached at 990-8266 and aanstead@bangordailynews.net.