Drew was there on moving day, lugging the heaviest furniture as family looked on. I wrote him a poem to read when he woke up, then left. I’ve been called nigger, been a petting zoo, and been harassed by the police. This racial separation is what the enemy wants, I thought to myself. That week, Drew and I went to a Braves game, and had to walk through “the hood” at night to get back to my home. The date ended with an impressive kiss (we made out). Because after leaving a “good” job, moving to a new state and leaving behind people who love me, switching my spacious waterfront apartment for my aunt’s back bedroom/office, and getting a part-time holiday job at Nordstrom just to keep gas in my Honda, I’d ‘bout maximized my fears and delighted in an opportunity for some revelry. I moved into a beautiful and spacious loft with a couple I’d met some weeks before. You can’t love me." "I don’t have to know you, to feel you." The morning after, I had an early meeting at work and left him to sleep until I returned. The morning was cold and bright; the sun was on his cheek. I smiled to myself, thinking that life was finally turning around — back in my own place again, with a new handsome gentleman — and headed off to what could be a new career. Thus, while I was indeed really Black, I still wasn’t quite Black enough. It’s true that I grew up as a black girl child in the American South, and had defining experiences with racism. One friend posted that she would never again sit with her back to a White man.The raping of African-American women by plantation owners and other powerful whites during this period have cast an ugly shadow on relationships between black women and white men.On the flip side, African American men who so much as looked at a white woman could be killed, and brutally so. What started off as brunch, where we both confessed our intentional avoidance of commitment, turned into 10 hours of non-stop fun, intriguing conversation, and the occasional 3rd chakra palpitating gaze. And my president sang “Amazing Grace.” My Facebook feed was in a frenzy.When I moved to Mozambique for the summer in 2008, my life flipped upside down. Fifty feet from home, we approached a group of locals under a streetlight and my fears got the best of me. Because what if the sight of us together incited something that we couldn’t be saved from? He held my hand to secure us and I let his go to do the same. I have been mis-loved and mistreated in expert quantity.Miscegenation is defined by sexual relations between people from different racial groups.
They don’t want ’em yellow…they want ‘em DAAAARRRRKKKK! Thus, an American Black woman who balks this trend and mates outside of her race will likely be subject to ridicule.
A major reason interracial relationships continue to carry stigma is their association with violence.
Although in early America members of different races openly procreated with one another, the introduction of institutionalized slavery changed the nature of such relationships entirely.
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