NOTE: This post was originally published on 12.30.2009. It seemed appropriate today in the wake of todays’s Washington Post article suggesting Black women “explore their options”. Explore your moms, Washington Post.

Single Black Tragic Woman Theatre is in effect mode. The things we used to discuss amongst ourselves in Essence, in beauty shop and on ladies nights are now being placed on the national stage. The invisible woman got the whole world watching…and instead of celebrating her, they’re trying to figure out why she can’t get a man. How dreadful. How embarrassing. How wholly unsurprising.

I’m not linking any of these articles or news stories. They are easily found via Google. I’m not giving them any more hits. If a major network or paper wants to holler at ME, they can do that. Send some readers my way, pay me back for the mental anguish I have been caused for the past few weeks since you all have decided to make Black women look like a tragic and lonely monolith. Quote me, pay me, apologize…do something.

I don’t hear anyone acknowledging how centuries of oppression and a systematic destruction of the Black man, woman and child could render us unable to love one another . All I hear is Black women who are successful are lonely because they are surpassing their men in class, outnumber them regardless of class and may be too picky. All I hear are people who got all the nerve in the world for trying to fix someone else who are telling me what I am doing wrong with my life. I am not comfortable with short sighted arguments for a subject as life altering as my chances of ever being married and starting a family.

What is REALLY burning my biscuits though is the tired advice being thrown at sisters and one suggestion in particular has me vexed. We are being told to date out of the race. This is problematic on a number of levels:

1) I believe that most of the sisters who want to date interracially have already started doing so without any one’s permission or urging. This “advice” implies that sisters haven’t the wherewithal to consider making this move until someone else tells them it’s okay.

2) It’s insulting to men of other races to pose them as a second prize trophy of sorts.

3) It’s a slap in the face to sisters who have declared themselves to be loyal to Black men to hear “Naw, we good. Go on ‘head, we don’t care.”

4) It disregards the fact that many Black women are simply not interested in dating men of other races.

I understand how numbers work. I get that if every Black man got married to a Black woman, there would still be some Black women left over. I get that while most Black men who marry will marry Black, they are more likely to try something else than we are. I even get that the media would rather harp over the tragic Black woman than to engage long term solutions for healing Black men so that the man shortage disappears over time*. I get all of these things, I accept them and I proceed with this knowledge.

What I do not get are the number of people, usually Black women and White men, who treat me like I am some short of racist leper for not being willing to date men of other races. I do not get the resentment thrown at Black women who do not choose to entertain non-Black men. If I unpacked my loyalty to our men and completely disregarded my father’s wish to see me bring home a strong Black man like himself …I still wouldn’t be physically attracted to men of other races. If I were somehow able to change the latter, I’d be compromising my commitment to the former.

I’ve met a few White anti-racism advocates in my day who seemed more fascinated by Black culture than they actually were committed to ending oppression. They claimed to be so devoted to dismantling their White privilege, but when they found out my personal stance on interracial dating, I was no longer someone of interest to them. It seemed like they took it as a slap in the face. How dare I be unwilling to date White when they were willing to date Black? Surely the greater sacrifice was on their part, right?

Never mind the longstanding complicated relationship between Black women and White men. Never mind that I, like the men I speak of, am infatuated and in love with Black people and Black culture. Never mind my personal experiences with mixed race bloodlines and relatives I will never meet because I’m Black. If I don’t open my mind to dating White or any other race of man beside my own, I’m just a close minded bigot, right?

Wrong.

When it comes to matters of race, one cannot reasonably compare the behaviors of the oppressed minority to the privileged majority. Lacking any racially assigned power in America, Black people cannot be racist. We can be biased (“Hey, I prefer to date Black men, as I am Black myself”) or even prejudiced (“I don’t date White men because I hate them!”). As I have stated previously, I subscribe to Dr. Beverly Tatum’s definition of racism: a system of privilege and oppression meted out on the basis of race. While that definition doesn’t give Black people a pass for being hateful or cruel to Whites, it acknowledges that even the most prejudiced amongst us lacks the ability to be racist, as that prejudice does not come with any power.

I see myself as not prejudiced nor biased, but instead, committed to a mission that calls for a Black partner. This is not an easy mission, nor a guaranteed one. But it is the one that I want. That is my choice and my natural inclination. I respect the will of others to make their own choices, so long as it is not the product of self-hatred or fetishization of otherness.

Some people confuse having a fetish for people of other races with being “colorblind”. There is nothing more foolhardy than trying to label yourself “colorblind” in one of the most racist countries on the planet. We should all be color AWARE, so that we can actively dismantle racism, not pretend that ignoring it or making a bunch of “rainbow babies” will just make it disappear. I am constantly floored by the expectation that Black people are supposed to love and embrace Whites with no regard to the centuries of oppression we have faced globally. As if any discomfort or unwillingness we have to date across racial lines or to open up our communities or schools is the exact same as when it was done to us. Apples and oranges. I do and have and will embrace White people with love and friendship. But when it comes to a romantic partner, the only image for me is that of my Black brother. Any White person who challenges me on my right to make that choice is not truly the ally they fancy themselves to be.

I do not judge harshly any White or non-Black person who chooses not to date outside of their race for loyalty or bias. If it’s done out of racist hate or prejudice, yes, that’s wrong. Same as it would be for a Black person. But I am leery of ANYONE who has a strong preference for people of another race versus members of their own. A race is not a type. Saying “I like Black chicks” is not the same as saying “I like girls who write poetry“. While it’s natural for us to gravitate towards our own, to constantly seek otherness often time says something about you and some sort of failing in your self esteem.

If you are a sister who wants to date men of other races and can do that without saying “I hate Black men” or “I’ll never date a brother“, then more power to you. I cannot expect other sisters to have the same loyalty that I do, if for no other reason that there are not enough brothers for us to all get one. And while I hope that the sisters who do look elsewhere do it because of honest attraction and love, I can’t help but to acknowledge that the more of them who leave, the better my chances are at what I truly want.

I have known and will continue to meet interracial couples of all sorts that consist of awesome people who are still very connected to their own race. Good for them. Doesn’t mean it’s for me. I know people who move to the suburbs, too and I’d be double damned before I did that. If I brought home a non-Black partner, my parents would be somewhat disappointed. But ultimately, their biggest concerns would be if this person made me happy and how well he treated me. If he was a good man who loved me and cared for me, they would make peace with my choice and embrace him as a family. It’s not pressure from my parents that informs my choice. I WANT to say “Dad, look. I found a strong Black man like you. I looked at the example you set for me and it informed my choice.” I WANT a Black man in my life. I want to have a few more short term jaunts with brothers. I want another Black boyfriend (or two) and I want a Black husband. This is what I have always wanted and this is what I shall seek. I speak for myself and a number of other sisters when I ask that you PLEASE stop trying to change my mind.

And I am telling you, I’m not going. This time, that affirmation will work.
ST

*-Yes, there is an actual shortage. That’s not criticism, hatred or cause for widespread panic. The existence of one or more stellar Black men does not negate the fact that they are outnumbered, so please don’t let your pride get in the way of reality and try and deny it, okay? XOXO-Me