No music.
No baked beans.
No bbq.
No liquor.
Just berries, salad, and corned beef.
I’ve said it before but anyone who marries into a white family has either been raised by whites (which is completely understandable) or, has to suppress their blackness just to appease their in-laws. And I know that eats away at any black person’s soul.
An Irish friend mine invited me to one of their ‘cookouts’ years ago. Maaaaan, let me tell you. I knew straight away I could never be involved with white women seriously. They were polite and affable enough but everything was so bland: the music, food, atmosphere, ‘dancing’ (if you can call it that).
No wonder they drink so much: that’s what it takes to actually enjoy this flavorless affair. My spirit felt so incongruous, I could hear my ancestors shaking their head.
I’m sat there thinking “this is what you swirlers go through, just to be in proximity to whiteness? Is it really worth it?”
No wonder I see so many Irish folk with black spouses. Once they get a taste of some actual exciting culture, they can’t go back. Made me appreciate our blackness even more. It just can’t be replicated.
I’ll be damned if I’m going to cookouts this bland. At least other cultures have ‘flavor’, so I understand if you marry a Hispanic, Arab, Asian etc… but white?