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I had stopped knowing who to count out at parties or open bars, and so I winged it.
I found myself on a first date with a guy who was born and raised in Yonkers, with a family from El Salvador.
He’s been a vocal supporter of Colin Kaepernick and several other players using their position for the greater good, but one follower just can’t accept Sharpe’s pro-Black stance while dating non-Black women.
Twitter user Cynthia G called out Sharpe and La Var Ball for dating and marrying White women while still receiving praise from the Black community, suggesting that Black women who date outside of their race, such as Serena Williams and Halle Berry, are shamed for doing so.
Half of my mother’s four sisters are married to white men.
My cousins can be split into two groups: Ones who grew up with weaves and skin lighteners and ones who needed sunscreen and haircuts.
Our family is a classic case of women and the black men who left them versus the white men who stayed.
I remember being 6 and slapping my white uncle in the face to figure out why his face turned bloodred.
When my cousin on the all-black side birthed a baby girl whose father had become abusive, we took a long ride to a shopping mall. On the ride home we were quiet and I decided I would never date a black man as long as my feet touched this earth.She was looking to me for advice on raising a fatherless child, considering my firsthand experience. It was like that for a while—dismissing every suitor who resembled my father.We rolled down the windows in her beat-up car and took in as much air as we could. Every black girl I knew was saying, “Get yourself a white man,” as though they were selling out quick.I didn’t date for two years following that breakup.I cleaned myself up: I got a well-paying job; moved to the city; got my own apartment and painted it yellow and got plants to place on the windowsill. I joined Tinder on a whim to break the routine of eat, work, eat, sleep.
He was gentle in a very straightforward way, pulling out chairs for me at restaurants and picking me up after work to take me to exhibition openings, where he would look at me instead of looking at the art.