In Defense of My Family

This weekend was my usual Chicago visit. I had a wedding florist appointment in Michigan, and a hair consultation (wedding veil) appointment in Chicago on the same day. My florist appointed ended right on time, so I arrived in Chicago earlier than expected—(I can’t wait to talk about those appointment in another post–They were VERY informative and FUN!). My dad had left earlier for a funeral, but we sort of arrived at the house within minutes of each other. My dad came inside the house frustrated from the funeral he attended. Usually, when people come home from funerals, they are processing their emotions and thoughts toward the service and dearly departed. His mind was on the people at the funeral—He sat down to vent and discuss his frustrations at our community. It was interesting to note that when people asked about his children, it ended up in quite a few defensive confrontations about my impending marriage.

I wish I could say that was the first and only time. Of course, that hasn’t been the first time. I have no doubt that it will be the last, or a series, of my “racial” pride being called into question. I regularly call my family to check in, and hear updates of how people feel towards my marriage to a white man. It’s interesting to note, how forward people are towards making sure I know their opinion in addition to their congratulations of me. For instance, I would be at church, and they congratulate me and then turn towards another family member (this time it was my brother), to blatantly asks how he feels about the white guy I’m going to marry. This leads to them not-so-discretely pull him off to the side to focus on a more detailed conversation concerning my family’s feeling at me being a sell-out. Furthermore, I apparently need to brush up on my skills in

How to Be Black

I should put books on my registry. I wish Barnes & Noble had a wedding registry. Anyway, My dad was incensed at people’s callous treatment of my upcoming marriage.I think it was cute that he was upset as he stated again and again, THAT HE LIKES TOM. If, as a father, he likes the man I marry, shouldn’t that be good enough for the *community? If he tells people that I’m marrying someone he approves of—-isn’t that enough? My mom has told me that she’s taken the stance of defensive wording in trying to bring the focus back to love and not skin color. I’m completely fine with people vocalizing their thoughts, but the hypocrisy of those thoughts (with their life actions-and yes that might seem petty), but my black rage is enough to take me to a very dark place, especially, when humans once again epitomize:

There are NUMEROUS blog sites, websites, dating sites, and articles ALL TALKING ABOUT interracial dating and marriage in America. I didn’t come here to justify my decision—-because it’s 2015. I could care less about me defending being a sell-out to my community because my life choices have proven otherwise. It’s interesting the weird backward stereotypes and purported propaganda that is associated with marrying white. In respect to my elders, and all that cultural jazz, I think it’s one thing if you are over the age of 85. Don’t think I’m slighting people over the age of 85 (they usually are the most opened minded non-politically correct people) but for the sake of this post and because I do have relatives that ARE over the age of 85, they get a pass. Everyone who has

  1. Had to adapt due to the rise of the Internet and the way it’s revolutionized our daily lives
  2. Has current access to a cell phone, laptop, or computer desktop
  3. Can remember when airplanes were a “thing”

 Ya’ll are not excused.

GET YO LIVES. That’s all I’m going to dwell on that. I was excited to create a wedding blog, partially for guests, but most importantly, to have this extra scrapbook layer (I’ve liked to build websites since came into existence) to share with my future children. This is my way of creating a site filled with detailed information from the people who will stand by us—and their stories, to our own stories, and combining them into this site to let my future children to know—that by choosing each other, “it’s okay.” I want them to know (first-hand) that I made this decision to be with their father the right way (you know by dating, and stuff). I also hope that they know, when they do grow up and marry, I will ramp up my defensive wording to full on black rage action if people give you s*** (that word was deleted for the assumption you might be reading this at an early age :P)  about marrying someone outside your race.

This is your mother’s mean face.

*community I’m defining as their circle of church friends, or the black community I grew up in.

I strive that both my children are proud of their identities, and do to the poisonous nature of race relations, not feel as if they have to choose/identify with one over the other—-or feel as if they don’t belong to either group as stated below:

By Langston Hughes

My old man’s a White old man,
And my old mother’s Black,
If I ever cursed my White old man,
I take my curses back.

If I ever cursed my Black old ma
And wished she were in hell,
I’m sorry for that evil wish,
And now I wish her well.

My old man died in a fine White house,
My ma died in a shack,
I wonder where I’m gonna die,
Being neither White nor Black.

Just so they know where their parents stand, here is my attempt at a letter to our future children.

My sweetest mixed baby:

Race in America sucks. It wasn’t until 1967 (and 2000 for AL) that interracial marriages (if you had DARK COLORED SKIN) was legalized. The few who wanted to actually have a legalized marriage (slave women ran off with Indians, or slaves ran to Mexico—the more wealthy went abroad) escaped America to do it. Nowadays, with all the problems in the world: war, global climate, modern-day slavery, class issues—-you would think that people would just be HAPPY when two people love each other another to start a family.

I am so sorry that people think there is something wrong with me for who I love. I’m going to let you know that from early on, I’ve always dated who ever I was attracted to. I am an equal opportunist, and your dad came along was the ultimate qualifier. What made him just right for your mother? Well, if you ask your grandfather he’s going to say—that your father passed his checks/(tests):

  1.  The background check
    1. Religion
    2. Family
  2. The education check
    1. Degrees
    2. Job

If you ask your mother, she’s going to say because no one has EVER loved her and shown their love to her like your father has. She’ll tell you that he acknowledges his white privilege and tries to use it for change. She’ll recount to you how much it means when he writes letters complaining to a company about simple things: such as creating a black emoticon (in case Apple isn’t around in your day), or something big like having good conversations about race relations in urban schools, churches, and communities. She won’t get into to much detail because she’s saving it for her wedding day, but just know that from the moment your mom arrived for their coffee shop meeting, no man has looked at your mom like that. I hope that one day, you’ll find someone who looks at you JUST like your dad (preferably when you’re all GROWN UP LIKE YOUR MOM).

I want you to know that life is fleeting, even though your mother always thought THAT IT TOOK FOREVER FOR HER TO GROW UP—and one should pursue and live to the fullest of their days allotted. I want you to know that she received her love, her self-esteem, her black womanhood from the support system that she grew up around. She has never forgotten that, appreciated that it made her able to walk different paths in life, and she is continually trying to help make that reality possible for others just like her. I want you to be proud of that, and I want you to be proud of your dad too. Your dad received his big heart, his wit, his amazing intellect from the world he grew up in. I promise you that we are trying to bring forth a better world, and that we are both doing it together. We hope the world you grow up in, whatever the state of this nation, we hope that it can stop practicing interracial tolerance and start practicing interracial embrace-ment. We hope that you won’t have to go through an Imitation of Life and can be proud of your mixed heritage.


It won’t be easy. We have made many strides in being the 15 percent, but we are just not there yet. We have come so far (as you will learn at home and in history class), and we have further to go (I’m sure recent events will show otherwise—but even a simple Google of Black Lives Matter will start you off in research). I want to know we love you, and I hope you read this article, to if only, reassure you, that we made the right choice.


2 thoughts on “In Defense of My Family

  1. Unfortunately, our society is not as postracial as it may seem in our little bubble of awesomeness. This will be a lifelong challenge for you as you enter into your sacred union. But who better than to stand in the footsteps of our ancestors than people as intelligent and strong-willed as you and Tom? All the best, my love ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I am so intermixed in raciality that I almost figure I need to find a black woman for me and my boyfriend to grow our baby in so that we can progress to the beige race future. Which can probably paint a pretty good idea of how I feel about interacial marrige in general, which is to say it is so not a thing in my skull that I was genuinely suprised how much of a deal it was when you began DATING YEARS AGO. In absolute honesty you have taught me a lot about how ignorant the world still is about all this bidness, but you always have my support. Stay sweet you two, and with hope I’ll be able to book a last minute ticket to your special day.

    Liked by 1 person

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