Two of my younger male relatives have recently been engaged to white women, and one tied the knot last summer.This is a pattern that I have observed in my professional life for years: successful black men pairing up with white women, but now that the practice has come home to roost, so to speak, I cannot help but admit to feeling a bit demoralized.I wish my male relatives luck and joy in their relationships, but I also feel a pinch when I watch them with their girlfriends.
With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I cannot help but dwell on who might be coming to dinner.
Last holiday season gave me plenty of food for thought on this all too familiar and often uncomfortable racially-tinged question.
One of my male relatives brought home a date for Thanksgiving who could have been Barbie's twin sister.
She was blonde, thin, big-bosomed, and even had a Germanic name.
Once I overheard my black boyfriend telling his buddies how he preferred white women; on another occasion (with a different black boyfriend) a guy told me he didn't care that I was breaking up with him because he could go out and get a white woman, which was what he really wanted anyway.
Try as I might to suppress the reaction, I experience black men's choice of white women as a personal rejection of the group in which I am a part, of African American women as a whole, who have always been devalued in this society.Certainly my reaction links back to a few bad apples in my own young dating years.She was probably very nice; but I cannot say for sure.She was shy and didn't talk much in what was likely an unfamiliar and perhaps overwhelming African American social setting.Another of my male relatives brought home a woman for Christmas who seemed like a modern-day, socially progressive southern belle.She was blonde, full figured, outgoing, and outspoken with a saucy southern accent and friendly, expressive manner.