When my husband and I finally decided to take the plunge after dating for four years, we eloped. I think deep down we were worried about the “if anyone here can show just cause” part. My father’s side of the family was horrified, my mother’s tolerant, but not overjoyed. When my grandmother showed our wedding photo to a family member, they asked, “What nationality is he?” Perhaps they were hoping she would respond with the more exotic-sounding “Nigerian” or “Haitian.” Nope. Just plain ol’ African-American. My marriage and the subsequent birth of my daughter solidified my father’s “disownership” of me. . . . All of this is not to whine about the opposition I’ve faced for marrying the person I married. . . . But when my white students, for example, joyously remark that “racism is a thing of the past,” I ask them to consider how their own parents would react if they brought home a black person to marry. A flash of awareness comes across their faces . . . and I already know their answer.57
This was in my intercultural communication textbook in the chapter on interracial relationships
So, yeah
This was in my intercultural communication textbook in the chapter on interracial relationships
So, yeah
