Eww, Gross, I Would Never Kiss a Black Guy
With friends like this, who needs enemies?
“That’s disgusting. Doesn’t it make you sick?” said my former girlfriend’s best friend when she was told I was dating her friend.
I remember when I first learned of this little gem. Admittedly, I wasn’t as upset as I probably should have been. Truth be told, at the time I thought it was actually quite humorous. Having faced such disturbing racial hatred throughout my younger years, I was used to the reactions from those who thought of me as disgusting; less than… not a person. Comes with being Black in a white space.
For purposes of this retelling, I’ll refer to the former girlfriend as Shay.
As my relationship with Shay evolved, so did the frequency of social engagements I had with her friend group. Though we all were in college together, Shay’s “bestie,” the friend she was closest to, wasn’t keen on her seeing a Black guy. I can’t say I minded not being around this person but I did feel bad for Shay. They were close friends; that is until I came along.
Laundry is the only thing that should be separated by color. — Unknown
To Shay’s credit, she did not allow her friend’s racist and disparaging behavior toward me, affect our relationship. Oftentimes she did defend our union and take her friend to task over her repeated microaggressions. It must have been difficult for her; especially as neither of us asked for such treatment. But then what would you expect when toxic interference enters your life uninvited.
Rare or well done?
Even with the knowledge of those in my orbit not always accepting my presence in “their” world, I always made it a point to go out of my way to be friendly and welcoming. For me, keeping the peace with a partner’s friends was not only the respectful thing to do but also a strategy needed for self-preservation. In this instance, my objective was to make sure Shay was happy even at the expense of my own comfort.
Early in our relationship, I learned there was a concerted effort on the part of her BFF — who I referred to as the ‘Ringleader’ — and others in the friend group to get Shay to stop seeing me. If memory serves, they mounted a rather aggressive campaign to break us up, or more specifically, to get Shay to “see the light.” Things got worse one summer afternoon at a cookout hosted by the Ringleader, and by all accounts, this was the beginning of the end for Shay and me.
I was reluctant to go to this potential social powder keg but agreed to tag along nonetheless. Going anywhere you are not welcome is exactly the type of situation you try to avoid… but isn’t this what it’s like being Black in America?
Once we arrived, to say the mood at this gathering was concerning would be an understatement. I liken it to walking into a lion’s den at dinnertime. It was clear no one wanted me there yet I stuck to the script of “taking one for the team” and supported Shay’s time with her friends. I kept my presence subdued, careful not to bring attention to myself — though how can you really hide a fly in the buttermilk.
When you are a young adult, social dynamics can go either way; in your favor in the form of support and understanding, or to the other end of the spectrum, to obliviousness and unconscious denial. There is never an in-between.
About an hour in, a small group congregated on the back deck and stairs. I stood off to the side holding up the handrail. Seemed like a safe place to be — close enough to be sneered at yet far enough away from the center of the pending storm… or so I thought.
Without any warning and with complete conviction, the Ringleader turned to Shay and defiantly let fly for all to hear… “Didn’t you say he hit you?” Record scratch.
Wait. What?!
Eyes widened, and the air turned thick. You could actually feel the air getting thicker. Not because of the smoke from the BBQ but because of the coming ambush hovering above. At that moment, I felt every eye glued to my face as if it was just a matter of time before the town folk charged at me brandishing their pitchforks with unrestrained determination.
Immediately, as if on cue, the “on-looking” boyfriend posse stood at attention and assumed their alpha stance, waiting to pounce on command. This was the strategy all along, to jump me and make the host’s plan come to fruition. It was a setup from the very beginning. Apparently, the group of friends all agreed beforehand that attacking me would be the best way to send a message.
With no regard for their ‘supposed’ friend’s feelings, it was more important that a message be sent. They would not tolerate an infiltration by someone who they felt cheapened their crowd or had the audacity to even try.
A few physical threats, cherry-picked racial slurs, and a minor argument broke loose but fortunately before things got worse, Shay was able to calm things down and we left, avoiding any fisticuffs. On the way out, I could feel the hate teasing the back of my neck; the daggers of disgust thrown at me unrelenting.
That whole ordeal, I kept reminding myself, wasn’t about me. It wasn’t even about Shay. What drove the racist actions of these people was fear — plain and simple. They were more concerned about the perceived “browning” of their world and how it reflected on them that someone in their close-knit group was dating outside their race, their clique — their klan.
Another one bites the dust
Eventually, Shay and I went our separate ways. Perhaps subconsciously I helped expedite this by not wanting to deal with any future racist encounters or expose her to more uncomfortable interactions with her “so-called” friends. Ultimately that would have been her decision. However, I do remember at the time, thinking a lot about being at the center of such hostility even if I wasn’t the cause.
For anyone in a new relationship or at the point where you are testing the waters, inevitably there will be a few potential obstacles that need to be overcome, especially if you get involved with someone outside of your race.
Meeting parents for the first time, for instance, is always an anxiety-ridden experience. But sometimes the inner circle of friends (the gatekeepers) can be more insidious than the prospect of breaking that parental acceptance barrier.
Will they accept you, find fault in how you open a can of peas, judge you for wearing the wrong color shirt, or question whether or not you are good enough for their friend. Putting on your best display, though calculated, can make all the difference in the world; that is unless the friends of your significant other are racist and wish you harm.
I don’t think there’s a problem with dating somebody outside of your race, as long as you’re doing it because you want to be with that person. Everybody tells you what you should do when you’re dating, but if you follow your heart, it usually works out. — Donald Faison
I must admit I have questioned the authenticity of previous interracial unions. Was my partner in it for me/us or to fulfill some deep desire to prove their independence from a (white) patriarchal stronghold? By being with me were they looking to get a curiosity out of their system, to prove not only to themselves but to those around them that they can be who they are and date who they wish without interference from anyone.
Sometimes the feelings are in fact genuine and the differences in people (or ethnicity) don’t dictate the course of a relationship.
Is it worth fighting for? It certainly can be but knowing there will most likely be opposition and hate at the ready to make your life a living hell is something to be prepared for. Physical threats come with the territory. Microaggressions will be part of your atmosphere and without a doubt at some point, you yourself will question whether the potential chaos and toxicity are worth it.
Friends to the end
Encounters such as the one I experienced that day at the cookout are scarce these days — thankfully. I am reminded however of the viciousness many in the Black community still experience on a regular basis no matter with whom we share time.
Friendships are a valued part of life, a source of strength, and especially by those who truly know who you are and are there to support you. This is a friend. If faced with a wall of resistance because what matters to someone else directly affects your relationship with them, perhaps that friendship was never as strong as it was intended to be.
Friends will accept you, love you, and support your best interests.
I’ve lost friends over the years, some I had to cut loose. This is all part of growing and fully understanding yourself throughout life’s journey. Friendships come and go. Relationships come and go. Ideally what matters most is surrounding yourself with like-minded people who are supportive of you, have your back, and are not out to satisfy an agenda of self-interest.
In the end, if you want the best for your friends, be accepting of their happiness. If they are true friends, they will accept your happiness in kind.
Thank you for reading!
Follow me on Twitter: @gcorreiawrites
