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Via JezebelJill Scott relays the pain:. We want to hear what you think about this article.
Submit a letter to the editor or write to letters theatlantic. My new friend is handsome, African-American, intelligent and seemingly wealthy.
He is an athlete, loves his momma, and is happily married to a White woman. I admit when I saw his wedding ring, I privately hoped.
But something in me just knew he didn't marry a sister. Although my guess hit the mark, lbk my friend told me his wife was indeed Caucasian, I felt my spirit I didn't immediately understand it. My face read happy for you.
Jill Scott On Black Men Who Marry White Women - The Atlantic
My body showed no reaction to my inner pinch, biy the sting was there, quiet like a mosquito under a summer dress. Was I jealous?
Did the reality of his relationship somehow diminish his soul's credibility? The answer is not simple. One could easily dispel the wince as racist or separatist, but that's not how I was brought up.
I was reared in a Jehovah's Witness household. I was taught that every man should be judged by his deeds and not his color, and I firmly stand where my grandmother left me.
African people worldwide are known to be welcoming and open-minded.
We share our culture sometimes to our own peril and most of us love the very notion of love. My position is that for women of color, this very common "wince" has solely to do with the African story in IVgo. All of which is true and holds weight.
But I think the key problem here is a common one--a kind of collectivist approach toward something as individual and private as marriage. The point about "African people worldwide" is a tip off. Now I ride for my folks, but we certainly are no more "welcoming and open-minded" than any other group of people.
But I thought in my head, “At least black women value black men. It's becoming rare . I know I'm an attractive female with a lot to offer. I have a. My new friend is handsome, African-American, intelligent and seemingly wealthy. the history of black women, racist degradation, and beauty standards. They go to bed with someone who does, or doesn't, think it's a bad. When I was a little girl, I thought that I was gorgeous. somewhat attractive and, above all else, black, which took me out of the running for real beauty. My ugliness wasn't a pimple or a bad haircut; it was intrinsic to the color of.
There is certainly part of me that feels my partnership with a black woman says something about me. But I vacillate on precisely what. The problem is that Hanfsome committed person goes to bed with black spouse or a white spouse. They go to bed with someone who does, or doesn't, think it's a bad idea to blow the rent-check on school clothes.
They go to bed with someone who does, or doesn't, think it's a priority to keep the living room clean. They go to be bed with someone who does, or doesn't, want children.
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Now it's true that she's black. Again, I'm not trying to demean my folks. But we often take this abstract, hazy view of an institution that, like anything else worthwhile, is mostly about dirt, work and tedium.
w Relationships are not anymore, at least a collectivist act. They really come down to two individuals doing business in ways that we will never be privy to. Writing about this has helped me get clearer and clearer on this.
To be blunt--I think people who spend their time stressing about the DNA admixture in other people's relationship need to give some thought to boundaries. It's petty gossip masquerading as social commentary, and unbecoming of a "welcoming and open-minded" people. By her own reckoning Jill Scott's friend is "new.
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He could have a trail of baby momma's from Oakland to Kansas City. But what matters isn't what Scott doesn't know, but what she thinks she does--that he's African People.
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As much as my own limitations allow, I sympathize with race and the constructions of beauty standards, just like I sympathize with race and Viyo effects on the justice system.
But at some point brothers Crazy Midland wanted to stop reeling off stats about byo and prison, and resolve to be something more. We all have a moment, as black people, where we have to stop the process of bemoaning what the world thinks of us, and start asserting that which we think of ourselves.
There is no other way. Forgive me, if that sounds hectoring. I've met very few if any black women who need a lecture Handsomd asserting themselves.
Which is why I find this constant "plight of the black woman" bit bewildering. It's as if all our complainers, all our naysayers, all our insecurities got together and went into journalism.
What the hell is going on? Ta-Nehisi Coates is a national correspondent for The Atlanticwhere he writes about culture, politics, and social issues.