The Color Thing

What is Inter-racial love? Is it a careless indulgence?

High school, and a burgeoning adolescence confused me.  No one warns you that you must protect more than your budding body from horny young boys,  but also that you must be prudent in whom you love.

I am not a racist, nor am I against inter-racial relationships. But I have seen the fall-out of how they can hurt people.

I mentioned high school only because it was at this juncture that I began to notice that white boys were not effeminate and standoffish.  I hung out with a mixed clutch of girls who were for the lack of a better word; sports groupies.  Yes, we loved the football team, the baseball team, and the basketball team.  The teams were very mixed racially and white players played side by side with black players.  The bond was so strong these guys even hung out outside school.  We the groupies, average looking, and probably nerdy to boot, could only dream about these guys.  Well it wasn't long before those little girl dreams turned into a strange reality...

All of us had our favorite "fantasy" guy on all the teams.  We'd pour over the school newspapers for flattering shots of them, we'd litter our locker doors with them, and if we were brave we'd proudly announce it to them as well.  But those who did were usually shot down and laughed at.  The nerve, right? Well, I had my favorite.  He was white, and I was afraid to say it to anyone.  The unwritten rule was; white girls could salivate over black players and maybe, if they were lucky, date them.  But black girls could not acknowledge their crushes and god forbid if it ever happened, date a white guy?  So my crush remained my secret.  And I struggled with it.  To be honest, I had a bigger crush on a big brown skinned football player we called, "Tippy".  He had this smile, all these white perfect teeth, and the prettiest skin.  I think Tippy was my official first real lust.  But I will tell you why Tippy slipped in terms of me lusting after him. Tippy, and many of his co-players, the black ones, used their notoriety and popularity to exploit the white girls that liked them.  For the most part, the black sports players at the high school almost exclusively dated white girls.  Not that I cared on that level, its just that it took and dashed my adolescent lust against the ground. 

I struggled with the whys of this for a long time.  I even queried  older and wiser heads only to receive no answer.  I suppose my ultimate question was; "Do they really like them better?"

I was left feeling like an invisible girl.  An unwanted under appreciated girl.  Of course the White girls didn't have the manners to just quietly date, of course it was rubbed into our faces.  Pictures of them in year books,  Home coming King and Queen.  Frankly these mixed couples became the most popular in the school for years on end.  Some married.

I on the other hand took my abandoned heart and let it flounder into my school work and pep squad antics in the bleachers.  I thought if I cheered loud enough, and swung those pom poms swishy enough, things could change.  But they didn't. Until.. One night at a bonfire as I held the hands of cheerleaders and we turned and arched around the fire chanting death to the opposing teams, snow began to fall.  It was untimely, early in fact and a chill was in the air.

I had not worn a jacket.  When the circle broke up into cheering groups of crazed kids I wrapped my arms around myself and walked towards the parking lot.  Just then I felt the weight of a  jacket enfold me, and I turned quickly to see who had done this.  It was him, the guy I lusted for and it wasn't Tippy.  Now I could say that I just returned that coat and said, thanks but no thanks.  I could say I got indignant and threw it on the ground.  But he was the captain of the football team.  He was six feet tall.  And he was by any account; gorgeous.  I looked around me to see if I was dreaming.  If the snow that was falling was real, if it was night or had the lights blinked off all around me? I recall he leaned down and smiled, and said, "I thought you might be cold." I stared down at the jacket.  I was so nerdy I even fingered the green leather like an idiot, and the felt sleeves, and finally the big letters on both sides of the jacket near the pockets.  My eyes must have been as big as platters.  I don't know what gave him the cajones to break the rules and to step outside convention and talk to me.  I really couldn't figure out what he saw in a gawky black girl who still wore two pigtails most days.   We dated the three remaining years of high school.  We were an item.  And I have to add that I became the envy of many white girls in that high school. And sadly was ostracized by many black ones for dating him.

I wondered was this just an indulgence? A fantasy twisted around? What was I doing. When he and I were together it was so normal and so nice.  We played like kids; tossing fall leaves at each other at the park when we played hooky from school, driving his car in circles on the ice at the rink parking lot, sitting in the rain while we listened to music on his car radio just holding each other.  I truly believe that had he not walked through that screaming crowd and tossed his jacket across my shoulders I never would have known that love can be color blind, and very real.  And yes, it was an indulgence.  It was like chocolates for breakfast, or pizza in the middle of the night when no one is looking.  Had Tippy done this would the outcome be the same? I say yes, in fact that was my dream, that had been my real desire, but fate had side lined that, and I went with the flow.

Today I think it's not so controversial. It is pretty normal to see mixed couples of all kinds.  No one is trailblazing.  However, for some reason I am always a bit upset when I see black men with white women.  Perhaps it is still a hold over from the days when I was bursting at the seams for romance and no black guys would give me a chance.  And maybe I hold a grudge.

And perhaps a girl as nerdy as me, needed someone to look behind those weird glasses and puffy ponytails and see the real person back there.  The adolescent safari of the heart. The wild beasts of the high school, the man jungle.  I was a hanger on of the locker, a giggler with my hand in front of my face, I would sometimes forget to turn my skirts in the right direction, I was often the butt of jokes for being so tremendously nerdy, and just not getting it.  I had the double whammy.  I was nerdy and black.  God help me.  

I continued to lust after Tippy and watched his comings and goings like a spy with binoculars.  I was fascinated by his lack of interest in me.  I was fascinated by what he and others saw in white girls. 

My first dance consisted of my mother calling up her friend whose son played basketball at one of the big high schools in town, he was a star.  I did not like him, he was arrogant and he was mean spirited although he was strapping and handsome.  My mother thought he was a good match.  She dolled me up and I sat and waited for him to arrive and take me to the dance.  Well, he was so angry for being forced to take me out that he treated me like a booger the entire ride.  It was "stupid girl this, stupid girl that."  I cringed against the door of the car, my heart beating so hard I wanted to climb out the window and run home.  His friend was with him in the car, and laughed each time he flung an insulting epithet at me.  When we got to the dance I was unceremoniously deposited at a table that I quickly noted was full of rejects.  I was at home.  After downing a number of watery cokes with no ice, and pretending to be content sitting with a bunch of nerdy girls, and one too many trips with the group to the bathroom, I went to look for him, I wanted to go home.  The dance floor was a mass of churning bodies, and it was dark.   When my eyes adjusted to the dark I saw him off in a corner with his friends, all basketball players surrounded by a pack of white girls.  They laughed gaily and touched and teased one another.  I made my way through the crowd and sidled up to him like a puppy and tugged on his sleeve.  I can't describe the scornful look he gave me as I stood there.  "I want to go home" I said to him.  He frowned at me and said, "then go home then you stupid girl." 

I was stung, I was mortified.  I could hear them all laughing at me.  I turned and walked away.  I didn't know how I would get home.  I had no clue.  I went back to the table of rejects and thankfully one of their mothers arrived to take several of them home.  I begged for a ride and explained what had happened.  The mother was disgusted, she said a date should never do that.  I learned one thing that night if nothing else.  Always have an alternative way home.  I had my emergency dime, but I was too ashamed to call home to let my mom or brothers know what had happened, better I just show up at the front door and call it a night.  I guess I got into this entire story only to illustrate that at a very formative time in my life as a woman, black men made themselves absent.  In fact I thought they found me "undesirable" and "disgusting." 

After college I met and married a man who was not black.  Perhaps the rejection in my fragile youth was still stinging in my heart, but more likely it was just timing and geography. He was there, I was there.  In retrospect it takes a special person, or people to make  love across color lines work.  Past hurts, slights, anything negative can effect outcome.  Is inter racial love indulgence and selfishness? I don't think so, I think it can be courageous and very real.  My demons perhaps still dance in the moonlight, but my brain is free and that's the better and more trustworthy part of me.

Comments

[Shavonne]

I totally identify with this post. I was a reject in high school and college. I've always been curious as to what the attraction was with the black football/basketball players and white girls.

[satisfiedsistah]

Jocks are used to winning, and having what they want. What is more thrilling to an adrenaline junky than to have forbidden fruit? And white girls, well they can have anyone they want, right? To prove that point they get'em. Often right from under our noses and to boot will do the most scurilous things to keep them. For me I gave up, I was wayyy too nerdy for the cool crew, and way to not into girl fights over men.
So I backed out. Last high school reunion I found out to my deep sadness that Tippy has been very ill for awhile with a debilitating disease. you know I still felt pangs when I heard his name. High school stuff leaves some deep scars.

[Don't Push Me]

Damn. I mean, whoa! Wow. I gotta applaud and thank you for sharing that. I'm not sure where and what to respond to...

Firstly I think your post demonstrates how powerful the mind is. Basically, he was what you wanted and what you recieved (The white dude that is).

I also can't help but think where this all happened and when(?)... This is just unfathomable for me. Yeah, I saw others doing what you did...Actually, No...No I didn't.

Not that inter-racial romance is abnormal, it just wasn't open like that when I went to highschool--Class 1990, Oakland, CA.

Nonetheless, I'm not an expert or anything, but I wouldn't be surprised if your experience contributed to your marriage or at least sculpted your paths to partnership.

It pains me to hear what that brotha did to you. Plus, I know you to be an intelligent and beautiful woman.

The other thing is that you say that you were a nerd right? Well, my friends including myself fantisize over women--girls then--like you. I mean, even though I was on the varsity football team (we went 0-10 as in 10 straight losses), swim team, and wrestled in between seasons, I was still on the "Chess Team." In fact I recieved a letter in chess (I was proud of that).

(Enough about me) My point is that you were/are loved and fantasized about. My question is, where is the bridge to link the like souls of Black Beautiful Nerds (BBN's)?

You know there is something about this post that I can't put my finger on.

I mean, I can see the power of the mind, the possible wounds of past , which scab as scars in the present... But there is something else going on here.

It just seems so traumatic (The dance part that is).

Lastly, I got to thank you for maintaining your strength and identity as a Black woman. Your post iis an example of how challenging it can be....how challenging it is to be a Black woman and a BBN!

[meli]

Woe!
Damn Sis you crafted your experience like a classic 'Bronx Tale' minus some deep psychological subliminals...like why do black guys ('Jocks) date white girls?

Your experience jolted a buried thought in my subconscious memory.

I can remember growing up and my cousins were the highlighted athletes in High School...I asked my Mom and Grandmother at the time (mind u, beyond racism, I didnt' even fully understand my own prejudices at the time), "Why HE datin white girls?"... Being the open/blunt family that they are...On seprate occasions yet very close they responded somethin similiar about the White girls around our way versus Black Girls AND that was that "WHITE GIRLS GIVE IT UP Faster and do some nasty things...In my later years of high school I found out by my White Friends how/why they 'got wit' the Black Boys! Admittingly so, I was definitely not interested in pleasin Brothas in that' sexual way.

Not to say this was the truth for all white girls or any 'Fast' female during those 'Wonder Years' but that was one of my first explanations of Why Brothas Date White Girls... Like many Sistahs and Brothas when it comes to Black Male Athletes and WHITE Girls: BEWARE!

You know, I read your article in its eniriety and I felt for you and all your band aids- Knowing your 'brain" is free and your 'Heart' is wherever it is I too appreciate your story, its truth for you and what it says to the work/HEALING of Black Relationships and Respect for eachother from jump!

Peace.

[satisfiedsistah]

Where am I now? Still nerdy as hell, still forgetful and still don't get it. I read science books rather than vogue and I daydream and drink tea in the evenings. I am alone and probably because still black men don't get me. At least that's what I think.
I am not cool, I am not dressed in the latest styles I don't have an expensive car. Maybe all along it was about image with the white girls. I lacked the image. I was a poor nerdy black girl, with nobby knees and funny hair. I laugh now when I think of myself. There is a picture of me in the year book, a freshman, the only one with ponytails, and this stupid wide ass grin on my face like I just stepped off a farm. The Red Cross Club. Only black face there. LOL, I was a piece of work.

[emergingpheonix]

It’s unfortunate that you experienced this at a young age. The majority of the emotionally scarring experiences didn’t occur for me, until I entered Corporate America. Plus, I was somewhat handheld into these realities as well, so they weren’t much of a shock. I started off in predominantly white schools (where I got my fair share, but it was brief and I was blissfully ignorant), and then gradually the demographics of my schools changed to very multicultural. I had some unfortunate encounters of “benefit of the doubt” gone awry, though…as an adult dating the “Tippy, trying to get back to his roots with the acceptable sistah” (LOL, I had a dog named “Tippy”). I think some black people, won’t understand this, b/c they have been surrounded with black friends, and of course black family most of their lives. But for those of us who have no choice or prefer to open ourselves up to multiculturalism, it’s a different world. We have to endure a lot more blatant and hurtful ignorance, from colleagues and even “close” friends. We all know how women can be, and along color lines the relationship gets even more strained. Especially when we start to get into or close to our thirties and are still single, some women just completely go cave woman on you. I totally feel you on the “unwritten rule thing”. I can’t tell you how many times, one of my “other” girlfriends raved about the “nice guy” (insert black), that I HAVE to meet, b/c we “would make such a cute couple”(Don’t get me wrong, I can’t stand and totally reject the idea of being set-up, but I am always up to make a new friend). Only to subject me to the token black dude (I realize I may be considered the token black chic in some of my circles), who OBVIOUSLY doesn’t date sistahs, and is automatically at odds with me. While I have to put on smiles and appear comfortable (whilst said black dude recites the virtues of “other” women to me), so as not to scare off the hot “other” dude across the room, who’s been watching me, and I have definitely been feeling. Too funny…my life!!

I’ve never cared about who dated what growing up. I was very idealistic and never thought along color lines. I still try not to. But for a short while the whole brotha w/ a white chick thing bothered me as well. I didn’t stare at this, or even throw dirty looks, but I did (and sometimes still do) feel that little twinge of sadness. And I finally think I know why. It really has nothing to with whatever random interracial couple I come across. It has everything to do with the multitudes of knuckleheads who publicly exclaim how they (black males) despise us. It’s more about when they feel the need to publicly slander the black woman, with lies of lower class, lesser intelligence, unrefined beauty, and hoochie promiscuity. And then have it be reinforced by the existence and prominence of the black male/white female couple. Or by the token black dude who keeps getting pawned off on me, and can’t help but let me know why I should be lucky he is even giving me the time of day. I have to admit, I feel that same sense of fascination, at how they can sum me up w/o having passed two words with me, or how they can completely be oblivious to the only other person of color in the room. It’s funny really, but a little sad at the same time. Especially considering they fail to realize that any female child they bring into this world (assuming they’re mixed, and don’t pass the paper bag test), will poetically be subject to the same treatment…ahhh, cosmic justice. I hate to say this, but in my experience the majority of black men who run in mixed crowds, really do lose themselves. Not to say some sistahs don’t lose themselves as well, but there is a staggering disparity in percentages.

I was thankfully saved in the final hour (before I became embittered with the black man that is), by a brotha who ironically runs in mixed circles as well, but is the mythical man (one in a million) who never lost himself. I never doubted I would find love, but for a while I felt like it would definitely NOT be with a black man. I won’t bore you with the details of our first encounter (even though it’s a cute story *smile*), but I will say, “NOOO, it was not through the infamous set-up”. Apparently, there is hope for the token sistah finding black love…

[emergingpheonix]

I should probably add: To SatisfiedSistah - Hang in there, and have faith, because any man you date (as long as you hold strong to your ideals and keep your heart open) will be a man to be envied. =D

[ok onyx]

ok ok....algthough i appreciate your candor, i have to admit that i cannot empathize with your high school plight. you sound like an intelligent woman, yet you still fell prey to our societies glamorization of psuedo-celebrities. you were salivating and gravitating to all the golden boys, but what about the "ordinary people?" I am sure your class of 'xx had brothas who did well in school and were respectful to women. the whole inter-racial thing is really irrelevant. white girls who want black boys and black boys who want white girls obviously deserve one another. why would you want someone who does not want you, i.e. varasity athletes?

[satisfiedsistah]

Too bad I don't have your advice and a time machine. You squabble about things that happened in the past as if there was some magic wand I can wave and change it. Frankly you surprise me, at fifteen nobody is sophisticated enough to stand apart and make mental decisions about who they like and why. Most adults can't even manage that. Your thoughts about that are unrealistic and you are stretching to make a point. We are not talking intelligence or intellect we are talking sophistication, and lack of experience. Note: I did say adolescence? You sound very judgemental and harsh to me. Opinionate about commentary not about semi-autobiographical venettes. Clearly I grew up in a milieu that was different than yours so your "take" on what I wrote is skewed. It takes a very sophisticated intellecut to suspend their own values and realities to enjoy a story to its depth and not become the motivation police. I suggest you take a few minutes and brush off your brain and sit and recall your own self at fifteen and remember what it might have been like to have that first blush of romance and with whom. I guarantee it wasn't on the garden variety nerd. And I would also venture to guess that you are a staunch defender of mono raciality.

[LiteraryJock]

SatisfiedSistah--your response to that last message was evasive and a little dishonest, in my opinion. I think that the fact you chose to call yourself and your coterie of friends "groupies" for teenage athletes explains a lot about your inability to see more dating choices (Black, White and "Other") outside of the athletic pool. Your male geek equivalents never registered on your radar--at least not your recollections--and yet you seem to expect sympathy for lusting after local celebrities. Why should these football and basketball players not lust after what they considered their most socially desirable peers when you were doing the exact same thing?

[sarccastik]

wow...that was deep...interesting post...it doesn't bother as much as it bothers my wife to see a brother with a white girl...now a sista with a white boy...is like "wow"....."i heard that sista"...good post

[satisfiedsistah]

First, thanks to all who endeavored to read the piece, and to those who commented. It is very gratifying to have my writing appreciated.

Second, I never want to come across as defensive to anyone who took their time to write a comment. Though, I am human, and when one writes personal pieces it tends to strike a cord, very close to the heart. So for those men in the group I will clarify some points.

Tippy was black. Tippy was the guy I really dreamed of being with, for whatever reason. He was clearly not unattainable because someone ended up with him, and my thoughts were; why a white girl? Now I never said in the piece whether that girl was nerdy or not. I can't recall now, but I know she was "average". Also, someone asked, why I didn't give the nerdy boys a chance. Well, I didn't turn any away that I recall. The high school being mostly white left very slim pickings in terms of black people inthe first place, so add that with the black nerdy boys and well, you can see there wasn't much choice. But I would ask, if there was "one" why didn't he find me? Another thing came up in a conversation and that is males reading this will have a different take/perspective. I think that's important for me to note, and for the other readers.
I kind of know when the commenter is female, because often they will say so outright or allude to it. So that said. Thank you all again, I am honored.

[cecheckinin]

I'm jumping in really late on this one, SS, but I found your column to be quite interesting and the same goes for the back and forth comments below.

As a guy who went to what seems to be a demographically similar high school in a different region of the country, I think the point of Literary J's comment was that you probably weren't unwanted.

The rub is that 'Ordinary Joe' -- almost regardless of ethnicity -- doesn't ask girls out in high school. In fact, my guess is that the "OJ in HS" is borderline asexual beyond the 10 or so designated hotties per class.

Or he barely works up the nerve to ask a freshman when he's a senior. So he might have "found" you, but that and a quarter might buy you a Venti.

Just like the late-bloomer gal who's killing us at the 10-year reunion, you're going to have guys who were entirely gameless during high school, then totally get it together during college or after.

In high school, the Tippies of the world ask girls out. They date white girls because white girls run the show at high schools similar to the one I attended. These same "in-crowd" gals that have been clustured together since middle school. Yes, some of them aren't even in the same hemisphere of cute, but confidence, trendy clothing and a decent haircut can help achieve the unthinkable for the homeliest of the homely, regardless of gender. ('Fat and ugly' might be a tougher assignment.)

That's not to say that "Tippies" are black-averse, but it's not exactly coming No. 1 on the list of considerations in terms of dating. I feel bad about the behavior of the quasi-blind date. Perhaps he felt cornered. On a hasty count, I can think of at least two sistas I should have pursued like a hungry dog but chose to rain check because people felt I was obliged to get with those ladies. As "Emerging P" mentioned, conscription rarely works for the mood. But resentment is never an excuse for being a jackass, whether your 12 or 52.

[gypsykat]

I like your post very much. I am russian (white) and recently broke up with a man from trinidad (black). I was born and raised in Russia (now 22) and have lived in America for 8 years.
I was surprised by how divided high schools are in here, by who is 'cool' and who is not and I understood what mistake it would be if I fell into the trap. Honestly these things stop you from growing and shut off the potential for great things. Weak people make it up and enforce their rules on others. And those who accept those rules become weak. Anyway...
To me, black women are a very beautiful comparing to white americans and they should be proud of themselves more than ever. What made me date a black man? I just felt a connection that started everything. It was cultural connection too (similar mentalities, believe it or not). I still love him and he will always be in my heart. But my family is very against it and i fought with them every day, it is hell, plus I saw some red lights of abusive relationship between me and him. Thats another story. All i can say that i am in a lot of pain just because society enforces that shit on ppl. High school at large. Fuck that, if I meet someone i fall in love with (true love) and he happens to be black, that will not stop me..