I cut my own hair sometimes. I figure why wait on an appointment, when I can handle it myself?! Sure it is near impossible to hold a mirror in one hand and clippers in the other while contorting your body for a better view, but I do it anyway. I can be pissed off and powerful, command the change I want to see in my hair in minutes, all with mixed results. The grip slips. A muscle twitches. A blade is held too close. One acquires an imperfect cut, but the scruffy excess length is gone, buying more days of tolerance.
But Friday I did something bold, and different. I walked into the spot I have known of for years but never before entered, the barbershop near campus, on a Friday and there are no appointments taken, only walk ins. I am 5th in line, not counting the brother in the chair. I have other things to do but determination kicks in and I decide to sit and wait. The mission: to undo the havoc I have wreaked upon my hair, which didn't really "grow out in a week".
A world of men cycling through a transformation before the weekend gets started. Several are former students of mine from various classes, only one other person has never been there before like me. He came with a friend. The crowd grows. Some walk out, only to lose their spot in the rotation of folks making their way in and out of the chair. Men come in a little rough on the edges, a bit unkempt then after some time under P's skillful hands they come out polished. Scraping out the features of their faces, with the subtle shaping of chops, the crisp line of a fade, the definition in a goattee that frames the chin, he sculpts them anew.
Fascinating.
The topic hovers around sports. And I am fairly disinterested in sports, and talk of sports, and the athletes that are involved in the sports everybody talks about. YAWN! But this was a study in masculine space in one of its purest forms, rooted in folks (predominately Black and folks of color) congregating. Which was probably why I stayed, even though I knew it would be well over an hour before I got in the chair. THIS is where we are! How could I walk out on a predominately Black hang out spot where folks were shooting the sh@$ while biding their time. And the satellite radio mix was playing an hour of straight Prince cuts, so I was in no hurry to leave. You know I love me some Prince. I felt like I was home, in the sense of home being wherever family happens to be at.
I didn't waste time being other than myself, but I was really flattered when the guys made it clear that they were on better behavior due to my presence. I assured them that I had seen and heard it all before, but they were totally respectful. Luckily the man-with-the-million and one-ways-to-fade remembered me from events on campus. Generally he doesn't cut women's hair except in a few scenarios- his wife, a sister on the b-ball team, and today me.
I assure him that I just want him to line me up and perhaps trim off some length on the top. Then I give him the space to do what he does for a living, he's the expert. With the lines of people waiting on his skill, and as a witness, I am a believer. More arrive while I am in the chair, so I am clearly not alone. I am the newcomer to this shop. A space tied to generations of tradition. A cool way to spend an afternoon, not to mention he did a fantastic job.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
portland... portland... where for art thou portland?
A letter to my city:
Portland, I don't understand you.
I throw you a FREE, all-ages hip-hop show, at a centrally located space, at a respectable hour even, with great performers and where are you? Several dozen people (who were amazing and clearly made a good choice on how to spend their evening) rolled through- but where were you city?
People said it was the rain... This is Portland! If we are going to use rain as a reason to not do anything, we might as well not bother ever leaving the house. This is the wetlands, rain is always a 50/50 possibility at the least in a town like this. Isn't Seattle the ONLY city with more precipitation?! (This is a guess, I have not consulted any official sources on this one yet.) We aren't in some desert city and the rain is so out of the ordinary that everything shuts down, i mean it wasn't a snow day or something!
Luckily the super cool people made it. Some former students (not surprisingly students who did well and clearly have good heads on their shoulders, cause they knew the show Walidah and I put on was the place to be. Thank you Francisco and Grace and Alex). Some co-workers with arts education that I work with made it after long days of youth work. (Greg, I know it wasn't easy getting out after a rough day. And two of them even brought some of their youth groups with them! YAY Mareya and BeUtee! Cause the young people were a blast to have there! We even gave them CDs and t-shirts as momentos cause their energy was so on point and they were so excited. Way to represent United Voices and HB LEE!) Some people even crawled out of the 503 woodwork, friends who I haven't seen in ages brought friends and/or family which was great, so great in fact I even hung out with an old buddy i hadn't seen in years after for a couple of hours, and you know how I don't always go that post event social route these days. (Great to kick it Ken, more of that! Darlene how do you manage to get more beautiful every time I see you? Deena, you never cease to amaze me either and you are one of my inspirations, i mean how many times have we held it down on a dance floor in this town?) And, I even met some new cool people last night too. (yay to the new folks!)
But, if you weren't there, where were you?
I feel like Daffy Duck in those scenes when he would be competing with Bugs for crowd appreciation, only to get the sound of crickets and no applause. So finally, desperately he pulls his (literally) end all beat all stunt/trick out of the hat and combusts or something. Then as his animated ghost self is rising from the stage he hears what he has longed for... a room full of adulation and a standing ovation. I am no Daffy Duck, nor am I planning some suicidal poetic moment, nor am I saying that I personally want to be the center of the city's attention. I am just saying that I understand how Daffy felt, all charred and covered in the scent of smoke just wanting folks to appreciate.
Portland, you have almost a million people, and I just wanted to see like 200-250. Why hast thou forsaken me? For over a decade I have bent over backwards like a contortionist attempting the difficult task of getting folks from around the country, as well as other points on the globe, to bring themselves here for the benefit of Portlanders. Tried so hard to make this a place people also consider on their tours, rather than just bouncing from Seattle to the Bay. Walidah, myself, and countless other local artists have put our blood sweat and tears into helping make this city more artistically endowed, through our performances as well as by bringing others into the NW to share stages. For the show last night, Walidah and I did the most advertising, most e-mailing, most texting, most flyer distro, most word of mouth with the longest amount of lead time, and still it was not enough!
Portland, I will continue to live here, until I move somewhere else, but I am truly disappointed in you. Yes, I will still perform and teach- but it will be awhile before I attempt to organize another tour for out of town folks here, or even organize a local event (unless it is youth specific with the organizations I work with).
Eugene, I expect you will do better this evening. Seattle, you proved yourself beyond worthy of receiving talent both local and national at Ladies First. But Portland, I can no longer recommend you, as a city, to my artist friends. The next time I will just have a house party concert and invite only the cool people, (like those I mentioned above) and not everyone via several mediums. So then afterwards, those 999,900 people who flaked, only to realize or hear later what they missed, can at the least have the valid excuse of not being invited.
Portland, when all your artists get salty and flee leaving this "sustainable" town with less vibrance and personality, where will you be? You will have your amazing public transportation, but no evening performances of independent hip-hop. You will have your green trees and scenic rivers, but no painters or photographers to show that beauty to the world. You will have your space age looking tram, but no poets. Your unemployment will continue to rise, your children will continue to have the shortest school-year in the country, but what will folks do in their free time if the artists flee and no longer provide affordable ways to spend a day? The rain will still fall, the sun will still rise and set, the buildings downtown will still refuse to match- and what will the city be without its heart?
Because I am a loving artist, I will give this town another chance to prove itself.
Two in fact, so don't let me down! The future of the city depends on it, cause if the good sista is salty and gets past the point of forgiveness, what then? Bad Sista squared? Only smack downs with no hugs and support to make the pain fade faster? Portland, I have put up with you for 14 years, and what have i asked for beyond what I have been given? I asked for health benefits, you denied me. I asked for an income that was livable, no luck with that. I asked for more diverse demographics and you seem hell-bent on pushing brown folks outside of your borders into gresham and beaverton and points further out. I asked for attendance at an event, that is FREE, and yet you don't send me your masses, your tired of whack radio so called "hip-hop" who yearn to be set free.
Don't make me lay down my poetic torch and stop sharing the light of local and national artists with yall. Represent, so I can speak highly of you again. Please don't be that person messing it up for everybody else!
Bring yourself to the following and i will forgive you, yet again:
Fri., Nov. 14th, 2008
Screening of the independent film Machetero
7 p.m.
www.machetero-movie.com
starring Not4Prophet from X-Vandals
Laughing Horse Bookstore
12 NE 10th Ave
Portland
Screening will be followed by Q&A with Not4Prophet and Director Vagabond.
HELLO! We brought you the director AND the lead actor of the film!
Nov. 15th, 2008
Mic Crenshaw's CD Release
8 p.m.
Blue Monk
3341 SW Belmont
Portland
Cost TBA
Featuring: Mic Crenshaw, Hungry Mob, X-Vandals, DJ Gen.Erik, Good Sista/Bad Sista, and more
It's Mic fricken Crenshaw. He's releasing his solo CD, and X-vandals will be supporting it all the way from the east coast! What reason could you possibly have for not coming!? Or atleast telling a friend to come? (If you have an emergency, illness or otherwise valid excuse for not being able to attend, like you live in Baltimore or Connecticut.)
Otherwise,
I expect to see you there!
Portland, I don't understand you.
I throw you a FREE, all-ages hip-hop show, at a centrally located space, at a respectable hour even, with great performers and where are you? Several dozen people (who were amazing and clearly made a good choice on how to spend their evening) rolled through- but where were you city?
People said it was the rain... This is Portland! If we are going to use rain as a reason to not do anything, we might as well not bother ever leaving the house. This is the wetlands, rain is always a 50/50 possibility at the least in a town like this. Isn't Seattle the ONLY city with more precipitation?! (This is a guess, I have not consulted any official sources on this one yet.) We aren't in some desert city and the rain is so out of the ordinary that everything shuts down, i mean it wasn't a snow day or something!
Luckily the super cool people made it. Some former students (not surprisingly students who did well and clearly have good heads on their shoulders, cause they knew the show Walidah and I put on was the place to be. Thank you Francisco and Grace and Alex). Some co-workers with arts education that I work with made it after long days of youth work. (Greg, I know it wasn't easy getting out after a rough day. And two of them even brought some of their youth groups with them! YAY Mareya and BeUtee! Cause the young people were a blast to have there! We even gave them CDs and t-shirts as momentos cause their energy was so on point and they were so excited. Way to represent United Voices and HB LEE!) Some people even crawled out of the 503 woodwork, friends who I haven't seen in ages brought friends and/or family which was great, so great in fact I even hung out with an old buddy i hadn't seen in years after for a couple of hours, and you know how I don't always go that post event social route these days. (Great to kick it Ken, more of that! Darlene how do you manage to get more beautiful every time I see you? Deena, you never cease to amaze me either and you are one of my inspirations, i mean how many times have we held it down on a dance floor in this town?) And, I even met some new cool people last night too. (yay to the new folks!)
But, if you weren't there, where were you?
I feel like Daffy Duck in those scenes when he would be competing with Bugs for crowd appreciation, only to get the sound of crickets and no applause. So finally, desperately he pulls his (literally) end all beat all stunt/trick out of the hat and combusts or something. Then as his animated ghost self is rising from the stage he hears what he has longed for... a room full of adulation and a standing ovation. I am no Daffy Duck, nor am I planning some suicidal poetic moment, nor am I saying that I personally want to be the center of the city's attention. I am just saying that I understand how Daffy felt, all charred and covered in the scent of smoke just wanting folks to appreciate.
Portland, you have almost a million people, and I just wanted to see like 200-250. Why hast thou forsaken me? For over a decade I have bent over backwards like a contortionist attempting the difficult task of getting folks from around the country, as well as other points on the globe, to bring themselves here for the benefit of Portlanders. Tried so hard to make this a place people also consider on their tours, rather than just bouncing from Seattle to the Bay. Walidah, myself, and countless other local artists have put our blood sweat and tears into helping make this city more artistically endowed, through our performances as well as by bringing others into the NW to share stages. For the show last night, Walidah and I did the most advertising, most e-mailing, most texting, most flyer distro, most word of mouth with the longest amount of lead time, and still it was not enough!
Portland, I will continue to live here, until I move somewhere else, but I am truly disappointed in you. Yes, I will still perform and teach- but it will be awhile before I attempt to organize another tour for out of town folks here, or even organize a local event (unless it is youth specific with the organizations I work with).
Eugene, I expect you will do better this evening. Seattle, you proved yourself beyond worthy of receiving talent both local and national at Ladies First. But Portland, I can no longer recommend you, as a city, to my artist friends. The next time I will just have a house party concert and invite only the cool people, (like those I mentioned above) and not everyone via several mediums. So then afterwards, those 999,900 people who flaked, only to realize or hear later what they missed, can at the least have the valid excuse of not being invited.
Portland, when all your artists get salty and flee leaving this "sustainable" town with less vibrance and personality, where will you be? You will have your amazing public transportation, but no evening performances of independent hip-hop. You will have your green trees and scenic rivers, but no painters or photographers to show that beauty to the world. You will have your space age looking tram, but no poets. Your unemployment will continue to rise, your children will continue to have the shortest school-year in the country, but what will folks do in their free time if the artists flee and no longer provide affordable ways to spend a day? The rain will still fall, the sun will still rise and set, the buildings downtown will still refuse to match- and what will the city be without its heart?
Because I am a loving artist, I will give this town another chance to prove itself.
Two in fact, so don't let me down! The future of the city depends on it, cause if the good sista is salty and gets past the point of forgiveness, what then? Bad Sista squared? Only smack downs with no hugs and support to make the pain fade faster? Portland, I have put up with you for 14 years, and what have i asked for beyond what I have been given? I asked for health benefits, you denied me. I asked for an income that was livable, no luck with that. I asked for more diverse demographics and you seem hell-bent on pushing brown folks outside of your borders into gresham and beaverton and points further out. I asked for attendance at an event, that is FREE, and yet you don't send me your masses, your tired of whack radio so called "hip-hop" who yearn to be set free.
Don't make me lay down my poetic torch and stop sharing the light of local and national artists with yall. Represent, so I can speak highly of you again. Please don't be that person messing it up for everybody else!
Bring yourself to the following and i will forgive you, yet again:
Fri., Nov. 14th, 2008
Screening of the independent film Machetero
7 p.m.
www.machetero-movie.com
starring Not4Prophet from X-Vandals
Laughing Horse Bookstore
12 NE 10th Ave
Portland
Screening will be followed by Q&A with Not4Prophet and Director Vagabond.
HELLO! We brought you the director AND the lead actor of the film!
Nov. 15th, 2008
Mic Crenshaw's CD Release
8 p.m.
Blue Monk
3341 SW Belmont
Portland
Cost TBA
Featuring: Mic Crenshaw, Hungry Mob, X-Vandals, DJ Gen.Erik, Good Sista/Bad Sista, and more
It's Mic fricken Crenshaw. He's releasing his solo CD, and X-vandals will be supporting it all the way from the east coast! What reason could you possibly have for not coming!? Or atleast telling a friend to come? (If you have an emergency, illness or otherwise valid excuse for not being able to attend, like you live in Baltimore or Connecticut.)
Otherwise,
I expect to see you there!
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
What next?
For me these questions are often related to work and location.
What job next? What method of making a dollar out of 15 cents?
and other ridiculous daily obsessions...
Career... Should I get a PhD and prep further for academia?
Or head on the road with a backpack and places circled on a map?
What city will I live in next? One I've lived in before? Why?
Do i travel internationally? Where?
Do I wait til the kids finish high school? Do I leave sooner?
And, if i manage to keep my mind from imploding,
how do i keep it in tact and avoid that eventual outcome?
I have a lot of love for people in my geography, the community, family, classrooms, and circles, but this town drives me crazy!
And it is like one of those twilight zone episodes or a gory movie, where initially everything seems perfectly normal for everyone. All picket fence, suburban, nostalgia of the yesteryear that never was with some goofy kid whistling through the credits skipping stones on a pond, or dropping off newspapers on his bike route.
Then, BAM!
The next thing you know, the whole town has turned into zombies/vampires/werewolves/demons/ bodysnatchers/evil alien spawning vessels,
and you're the odd person out.
Not that I am saying that Portland is full of mythic beings featured in ancient legends and pop culture mythologies... but rather that there is that similar calm before the storm. That, can't quite put my finger on it, piece of litter rustling down the street on the wind with enough volume to remind you there is a disturbing absence of other sound or movement form living creatures. I hear the harsh whisper in the shadows saying, "Get Out!" Or maybe it is more like a screaming, "Run! Run! Get the %^@! out of here before you can't escape!" Neither voice encourages me to remain here for too many more years.
Which brings me full circle...
What next?
I am interested in suggestions/ recommendations/ and advice.
What job next? What method of making a dollar out of 15 cents?
and other ridiculous daily obsessions...
Career... Should I get a PhD and prep further for academia?
Or head on the road with a backpack and places circled on a map?
What city will I live in next? One I've lived in before? Why?
Do i travel internationally? Where?
Do I wait til the kids finish high school? Do I leave sooner?
And, if i manage to keep my mind from imploding,
how do i keep it in tact and avoid that eventual outcome?
I have a lot of love for people in my geography, the community, family, classrooms, and circles, but this town drives me crazy!
And it is like one of those twilight zone episodes or a gory movie, where initially everything seems perfectly normal for everyone. All picket fence, suburban, nostalgia of the yesteryear that never was with some goofy kid whistling through the credits skipping stones on a pond, or dropping off newspapers on his bike route.
Then, BAM!
The next thing you know, the whole town has turned into zombies/vampires/werewolves/demons/ bodysnatchers/evil alien spawning vessels,
and you're the odd person out.
Not that I am saying that Portland is full of mythic beings featured in ancient legends and pop culture mythologies... but rather that there is that similar calm before the storm. That, can't quite put my finger on it, piece of litter rustling down the street on the wind with enough volume to remind you there is a disturbing absence of other sound or movement form living creatures. I hear the harsh whisper in the shadows saying, "Get Out!" Or maybe it is more like a screaming, "Run! Run! Get the %^@! out of here before you can't escape!" Neither voice encourages me to remain here for too many more years.
Which brings me full circle...
What next?
I am interested in suggestions/ recommendations/ and advice.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Inter-racial dating, thoughts and auto-biographical info
I don’t think I ever wrote about my takes on interracial dating dynamics- and a friend's blog has made we want to give that topic some representation on my blog for some time...
as a product of an interracial marriage that was initially shunned on both sides I have a clear awareness of the potential disruption possible. Here are some of my insights:
MY EXPERIENCES WITH FAMILY
- Mom’s side aka the “white” side of the family
My mom’s brother threatened my dad with a shotgun and, my mom’s teenaged sisters were banned from attending the wedding by their father/the family patriarch. My great grandma Emma, (who my mother was named after and my daughter is named after both) was the only one who came from my mom’s side. She visited with us too throughout. My mom’s uncle wouldn’t look at my brother when he was born cause he thought he was going to be spotted or striped. We were generally outcasted and opted out of contact with a lot of that side of the family for years.
I put “white” in quotes because that may be a temporary condition in a lot of ways. My youngest aunt married and had a child by a Black man. The middle sister married/ divorced an Irish man and then her only daughter has a toddler- a mixed daughter by a Black (and possibly part Native American) man. Then there is me, my mother’s only living child. Then there’s my uncle, the eldest sibling, whose two oldest daughters are fully white, but whose youngest two youngest daughters, from a later marriage, are half Native American. So brown is definitely winning out with the young generation if we continue to choose melanin possessing mates….
- Dad’s side aka the “Black” side of the family
They weren’t initially exuberant about my Dad marrying a white woman. My great grandma Baby sewed the wedding dress extra large insinuating it must be a question of taking responsibility for a pregnancy and not “love”. (My mom wasn’t pregnant btw.) I talk with my Dad’s cousin about how that was to see her brothers and male cousins choose to be with white women almost exclusively. However my grandparents and the preceding generations might have felt about their children’s choices in regards to partners, they loved us grandchildren and didn’t disrespect our mothers, at least not in our presence. My Dad’s family loved my mother, and they still do. They never disrespected us or treated us in any off way, because of our mixed heritage. But they also had the history of violence around inter-racial relationships, whether assumed or real, in their lifetimes. So there is just a lot of general fear that must be accounted for when folks have been getting lynched in the name of insuring that the mere thought of dating a white woman, or the accusation of anything related to a white woman whether real, imagined, or falsely stated equaled death.
I put “Black” in quotes, because a large percentage of this side of my family have chosen to have children with white women and men. Myself (1/2), my children (3/4 Black) and my youngest sister (my dad was remarried to and then divorced a Black woman from Nigeria) are the exceptions. All the cousins in my generation are mixed like me then they had children by white men/women, so did my aunt… so depending on how the teens and youth decide to choose their partners we may see an erasure of melanin throughout many branches.
MY EXPERIENCE WITH DATING
It is not easy being a black woman. I am bi-racial, but I generally identify as Black as a political choice. If your female mate, as defined by patriarchal assumptions and accepted blindly and intentionally by many, is supposed to be a trophy, a sign of prestige and status- then stuff is stacked WAY against Black women. We’ve been described as the antithesis of feminine in past ideals of submissiveness, dependence, and working solely in the home compared to our realities of working outside of the home since our forced arrival and having to be fiercely strong to sustain self and others in order to survive. Prevailing beauty myths, standards and narrow boxes of what is widely perceived and accepted as beautiful, also don’t really support Black women. Couple that with being outnumbered drastically in a city like Portland, and it makes for tough travels.
Most white men I dated (high school early college) did not usually invite me to meet their parents and often were not pursuing a “relationship” in any way, with one exception, 2 if you count my 5th grade boyfriend who I used to ride dirt bikes with and we held hands like once- he was actually my longest relationship with a white male, I think it was 6 months. I basically stopped “seeing” white men fairly young and once I had options, then I really haven’t been inclined in that direction.
Other men of color that I “kicked it” with (Asian, Mexican, Native American) were basically more “encounters” where they were friends/acquaintances that wanted to kick it for a few days, or a week, as more than friends, but with no real intention of a “relationship”. So the meeting the parents question doesn’t really fit here, but clearly also rare.
Black men- surely different drama accompanies every relationship, but the majority of actual relationships, whether “seeing” somebody, or longer-term have been with black men. I am most likely to have met their parents/ families and hung out with their friends as well.
Now when it comes to art, organizing and work, I have really quality working friendship relationships across the board with men and women of all backgrounds. Of course not all of them are perfect or fabulous, but there are a lot of quality examples, which prove coalition is possible and well worth the effort with women and men of all walks. But in regards to inter-racial intimate relationships, my experience shows that the hierarchy which places white women on the top of the hetero-normative marriage material top spot and black women in the bottom slot, is alive and well and really F@#*& up.
as a product of an interracial marriage that was initially shunned on both sides I have a clear awareness of the potential disruption possible. Here are some of my insights:
MY EXPERIENCES WITH FAMILY
- Mom’s side aka the “white” side of the family
My mom’s brother threatened my dad with a shotgun and, my mom’s teenaged sisters were banned from attending the wedding by their father/the family patriarch. My great grandma Emma, (who my mother was named after and my daughter is named after both) was the only one who came from my mom’s side. She visited with us too throughout. My mom’s uncle wouldn’t look at my brother when he was born cause he thought he was going to be spotted or striped. We were generally outcasted and opted out of contact with a lot of that side of the family for years.
I put “white” in quotes because that may be a temporary condition in a lot of ways. My youngest aunt married and had a child by a Black man. The middle sister married/ divorced an Irish man and then her only daughter has a toddler- a mixed daughter by a Black (and possibly part Native American) man. Then there is me, my mother’s only living child. Then there’s my uncle, the eldest sibling, whose two oldest daughters are fully white, but whose youngest two youngest daughters, from a later marriage, are half Native American. So brown is definitely winning out with the young generation if we continue to choose melanin possessing mates….
- Dad’s side aka the “Black” side of the family
They weren’t initially exuberant about my Dad marrying a white woman. My great grandma Baby sewed the wedding dress extra large insinuating it must be a question of taking responsibility for a pregnancy and not “love”. (My mom wasn’t pregnant btw.) I talk with my Dad’s cousin about how that was to see her brothers and male cousins choose to be with white women almost exclusively. However my grandparents and the preceding generations might have felt about their children’s choices in regards to partners, they loved us grandchildren and didn’t disrespect our mothers, at least not in our presence. My Dad’s family loved my mother, and they still do. They never disrespected us or treated us in any off way, because of our mixed heritage. But they also had the history of violence around inter-racial relationships, whether assumed or real, in their lifetimes. So there is just a lot of general fear that must be accounted for when folks have been getting lynched in the name of insuring that the mere thought of dating a white woman, or the accusation of anything related to a white woman whether real, imagined, or falsely stated equaled death.
I put “Black” in quotes, because a large percentage of this side of my family have chosen to have children with white women and men. Myself (1/2), my children (3/4 Black) and my youngest sister (my dad was remarried to and then divorced a Black woman from Nigeria) are the exceptions. All the cousins in my generation are mixed like me then they had children by white men/women, so did my aunt… so depending on how the teens and youth decide to choose their partners we may see an erasure of melanin throughout many branches.
MY EXPERIENCE WITH DATING
It is not easy being a black woman. I am bi-racial, but I generally identify as Black as a political choice. If your female mate, as defined by patriarchal assumptions and accepted blindly and intentionally by many, is supposed to be a trophy, a sign of prestige and status- then stuff is stacked WAY against Black women. We’ve been described as the antithesis of feminine in past ideals of submissiveness, dependence, and working solely in the home compared to our realities of working outside of the home since our forced arrival and having to be fiercely strong to sustain self and others in order to survive. Prevailing beauty myths, standards and narrow boxes of what is widely perceived and accepted as beautiful, also don’t really support Black women. Couple that with being outnumbered drastically in a city like Portland, and it makes for tough travels.
Most white men I dated (high school early college) did not usually invite me to meet their parents and often were not pursuing a “relationship” in any way, with one exception, 2 if you count my 5th grade boyfriend who I used to ride dirt bikes with and we held hands like once- he was actually my longest relationship with a white male, I think it was 6 months. I basically stopped “seeing” white men fairly young and once I had options, then I really haven’t been inclined in that direction.
Other men of color that I “kicked it” with (Asian, Mexican, Native American) were basically more “encounters” where they were friends/acquaintances that wanted to kick it for a few days, or a week, as more than friends, but with no real intention of a “relationship”. So the meeting the parents question doesn’t really fit here, but clearly also rare.
Black men- surely different drama accompanies every relationship, but the majority of actual relationships, whether “seeing” somebody, or longer-term have been with black men. I am most likely to have met their parents/ families and hung out with their friends as well.
Now when it comes to art, organizing and work, I have really quality working friendship relationships across the board with men and women of all backgrounds. Of course not all of them are perfect or fabulous, but there are a lot of quality examples, which prove coalition is possible and well worth the effort with women and men of all walks. But in regards to inter-racial intimate relationships, my experience shows that the hierarchy which places white women on the top of the hetero-normative marriage material top spot and black women in the bottom slot, is alive and well and really F@#*& up.
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