I’m certainly never going to say that racism is a thing of the past. If anything, I think that it’s gotten worse in the 20+ years since I graduated high school. I don’t understand why skin color is still an issue. Can we just stop already? And, as long as we keep talking about it, it’ll never get better. By talking about it, we keep it at the forefront of our minds.
That being said, because I am a white girl and most of my family is white and most of my friends are white, when I’m describing a person, I will describe them based on looks. Such as; the blonde with the big teeth, bald dude with the tattoos, fat guy who always wears the funny T-shirts.
Because the majority, no-that’s not true…because ALL of my family is white, when I say these things, they assume that the person is white. Now, if I’m describing a non-white person to my family, I include that in my description. That Indian woman who drives the white van. That Black dude with the huge guns. The Asian woman who wears the cat-eyed glasses.
Why? Because if I say the woman who drives the vehicle, no one is going to know who in the fuck I’m talking about. If I say the woman who drives the van, we incur the same issues. The woman who drives the white van, we’re getting closer. The woman with the brown eyes and brown hair who drives the white van? No closer. The Indian woman who drives the white van! Oh, I know who you’re talking about.
Why am I bitching about this today? I ran into a former co-worker. I like to call them former work friends. We got along great but we didn’t work together long enough to form a friendship outside of work. I’ll call her Maya. It’s close to her name.
When Maya and I worked together, we were both coming out of a divorce. Both of us had three children and had been with our husbands for 20 years, both relationships began in high school. And both of us were cautiously dipping our toes back into the dating pool.
Devon (not his real name), another former work friend and lifetime friend of Maya, came over to offer his services in matchmaking. Now, Devon and Maya are both black. If you want further descriptions, I can provide them. Devon is bald (by choice), with hazel eyes, 6’4″, and very handsome. Maya has caramel skin, perfect really. Her eyes are medium brown, she wears her hair short. She’s quite busty with a tiny waist and a nice size rear end. I’d say hour glass but she’s just too busty for that. Maya is a looker for sure.
Devon and Maya talked for a few minutes, obviously in disagreement but a friendly disagreement. They called me over. Devon had asked Maya if she would consider dating a white guy. She said no. He wanted to know if I considered that racist. I said no. He asked if I would consider dating a black guy, I said that I probably wouldn’t be comfortable. He asked if Maya considered that racist. Maya said no.
Devon went back to work and Maya and I did the same. In the afternoon, Devon came over and said that he’d like to announce the results. He’d asked everyone in our department if Maya was racist for not wanting to date a white guy. Every single person said no. He asked everyone the same of me. All but one person said that it was racist.
Why? Because I’m white. That was their reasoning.
Devon wanted to know why Maya and I did not want to date outside of our race. We both had the same answers. We wanted someone to share our interests.
So, for Maya, she wanted someone who liked the same music as she did: Beyoncé, Jay Z, Kanye West, Nicki Minaj.
Devon made the assertion that he knew plenty of white guys who liked the same music.
For me: Shinedown, Five Finger Death Punch, Breaking Benjamin, Staind.
Devon had no response.
What movies were Maya’s favorites? Soul Food, Boyz N the Hood, Friday, Do the Right Thing.
Devon assured Maya that he could help her out.
My favorites? Any of the Star Wars, Any Harry Potter, Any Lord of the Rings, anything horror, anything superhero, and The Green Mile.
Devon said that he might be able to work on that.
He asked us if he could find us dates outside of our race with people of the same interests, would we go forward? Get out of our comfort zones? We hesitantly agreed.
Now, the shop that I worked in employed over 1000 people. Devon set Maya up on a number of dates by the end of the week. No match was made.
He set me up with one guy. He was Hispanic and didn’t speak English. We smiled at each other a few times. I have no idea where he was from but his name was Jesus (real name). He told Devon that I was pretty but we were not a fit, I agreed.
Still, after that, I was dubbed racist.
A few months later, I was in a bar with my sister and a couple of friends. We mingled, danced, talked with a number of guys.
At the end of the night, I went home with several phone numbers. I’d refused to give mine out. As I was thumbing through them, I would ask my sister (the designated driver, aka the only sober one among us) who each of the men were again.
If I felt that there was enough connection between us to warrant contacting them, I kept the phone number. If not, I tossed it. Of the 7 phone numbers I kept 2. Both of them belonging to white dudes. Now, 2 black men gave me their numbers and 5 white men gave me their numbers. So, I rejected more white men than black. Still, the girls considered that racist.
Now, thinking upon it today, I don’t give a shit. I will date who I want. I will no longer give a reason. And I will keep bitching about how I think that things are unfair. And I’m not going to continue to defend my actions.
© 2016 Nefarious Sweetheart