Do The White Thing

I was walking the dog today when I passed an interracial couple pushing their gorgeous baby past in her stroller. She was black, he was white. I thought, "Where is my white guy?" I don't even know how to explain myself. I've explored the obvious themes of secret self loathing for my race and acceptance gained through being chosen by someone white. I don't know what to make of that honestly. That might be deeper than one need go when discussing attraction, I'm not trying to diagnose an illness after all. Aside from what I would describe as a natural attraction to many white guys, I think a part of me just wants what won't have me. I've turned it into a "thing." I wonder how any black woman with a white man did it, I wonder if he always dated black women or if their coupling had special circumstances. I wonder, wonder, wonder. I wonder if any of the guys I knew ever hesitated making a move because they assumed I didn't date outside my race. I had a long conversation on a road trip with a guy in college who felt it was wrong for the races to mix, mostly he said because of the children having such a hard go of it. I don't know but I'm pretty sure that's going to survive in at least the top 20 of most thinly veiled racist things I've ever heard. Wish I knew where he was now. I wonder how he feels about our President.

I've no frame of reference for dating a white guy. I know I don't want to educate him about being black as if it is a singular experience and I represent it. Nor do I want to date a white guy (or any guy) who calls me 'boo' and shows me that he's down with brown by throwing out lines from random hip hop songs. I normally don't know what they are, and it just makes it awkward for both of us. I'm annoyed that you just rapped to me and you're annoyed because I'm not black enough for you. It would just be easier to date the bus driver who tries to get my number within three block of me getting on the bus and call it a day. I don't have to explain my hair, my dad can talk about white people and black people without having to censor himself. No one will have to explain that the white boyfriend is not free to talk about how 'black' something was that anyone did, regardless of race. Everyone can just be black in one corner and white in the other. We can be friends, co-workers, neighbors but never really force ourselves to talk honestly around one another.

I do think I want a white guy to embrace me as something special and unique and to embrace my race as part of that. I've met one guy (who happens to be white) who set the standard. With him I didn't feel like a novelty, he just loved black women the way l like white men. The woman he was dating was a scary but stylish black woman. I think he liked the challenge of her. We had some measure of affection and attraction for one another but never dated. I was always very cautious when we were together to be good for the both of us. He was a shameless flirt but he was also just easy to be around, I just slipped into his company like my favorite dress. I always felt good with him. No matter what I was doing, what I was wearing, I never even thought of those things. I just liked being around him and the feeling was mutual as far as I could tell. Had I been a different woman, I think something could have happened. And if it did, there would have never been the white/black conversation because as much as he was primarily attracted to black women, he was attracted to individuals who were black, not just black women for the novelty of it.

I loved not having to explain myself to him like I was born on the planet Krypton. We could walk down the ethnic beauty isle without me having to explain the products (even the ones I didn't use) like we were at the zoo. I bought a shower cap and we didn't have a 15 minute conversation about how often I do or do not wash my hair. I've never seen a white guy or girl that interested in what the other was putting in or doing with their hair. I don't like answering questions about my hair. I feel like I'm defending it and explaining something that only applies to me to someone who assumes that they've just learned something about all black people. I've never heard white girls ask eachother how they get their hair in certain styles to the degree I've endured the same questions about my hair. I'm sorry for the rant, I definitely have an issue with the hair questions. I don't know why anyone thinks it is acceptable to ask me if my hair is real or want to touch it and remark with surprise that it is soft. It is usually innocent but it implies so much to me about your assumptions about me simply because I'm black. My point is that although he knew the score, he didn't care. It wasn't a point of discussion. At most I think he said he liked the way something smelled. Being there with me was being there with me, not an anthropological field trip. I want to be an object of affection, not an object of study.

And I could avoid all that angst by just coloring in the lines and being with a nice black man. The only guy I ever seriously dated was black and I remember being surprised that I was attracted to him, surprised even more with how hard I fell for him, and relieved that after all those years of assuming I would marry a white guy and possibly deal with people on both sides who were disappointed with the partnership, we could just be. If I didn't like his mom or she didn't like me, there would be no racial undercurrent. I wouldn't wonder if my race had anything to do with it. No hair explaining, no debunking myths about black people not being able to tan, no dealing with random comments from people who think they should register their opinion about your relationship for the record. No integration of parents who grew up during the civil rights era. Just happy brown all around.

I make my life so hard for me. I should just call Batman, set a date and start making some brown babies. The costume thing will at least be fun when the kids are little. The path of least resistance is underrated.