Last night as I was leaving with Nathan from the karaoke bar I saw this dumbfounded look on this black woman’s face.  I was amazed to see a real live black woman who wasn’t myself or my token black friend (I’m not friends with her because she’s black, she’s just my only black friend up here–there aren’t very many of “us”).  I was sure she was copping an attitude because I was with a white guy instead of a “brotha.”  Half way out the door I realized I forgot my purse so I went back inside.  This lady pulled me to her table and I expected her to snap at me for selling out.  As she leaned in to me and took my hand she gave me dap and said, “Girl you sure can pull a white boy!”  I let her know that it was more than “pulling” cause we’re married.  She really got excited then. High five!

That’s never happened before.  I never thought I’d marry a white boy.  In fact I kind of forget what our relationship looks like to the rest of the world and I sometimes forget that we are of different races–that either of us are a race at all (it doesn’t matter). I’ve had family threaten Nathan’s life (in the most gentle way), which I think they would have done if he were black–maybe.  I’ve lost all my black “friends,” I’ve been called a sell out walking in an Arkansas mall with my kids, and I’ve had a black woman turn around on an airplane and stare at me and Nathan, roll her eyes and sigh in disgust, but I’ve never been congratulated on my relationship with someone of another race.   It was nice for a change.

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