What is so hard to understand?

My wife and I went to Old Country Buffet for dinner. After paying our entrance fee and leaving our receipt on the table, we went out and picked through the buffet for our dinner. My wife, Nadine is a pro at getting everything she wants on one plate. I, on the other hand, seem to focus on getting one meal at a time. While Nadine was out foraging and loading up, I returned to the table with my garden salad and sat down to eat. Sitting across from our table was and older couple. The woman was talking on a cell phone while her husband was picking at his plate. The woman, talking on the cell phone, had her phone set on speaker, which was set on the table and she was writing with a pen and paper. The man on the other end of the phone was talking about interest rates and the housing market. The way the were talking indicated he could have been  a long time friend or possibly her son who was either helping them sell their home or he worked in the business and was selling their home for them. Either way, it was really annoying to listen to. I was contemplating getting up and moving to another table; however, Nadine was still out loading her plate and hadn’t returned as of yet. Therefore, I just sat and kept my focus on my garden salad and waited for my wife to return.

It was another ten, grueling minutes before Nadine got back to the table. Her plate was piled with steak, corn-on-the-cob and potatoes, cornbread and chicken. She had greens and Macaroni & Cheese along with mixed vegetables and some other various types of meats and breads all piled on her plate as she sat down at the table. I stared in amazement as she carefully placed the plate on her paper placemat and then took her seat and sat down with a large, toothy smile. “What“? She asked, not realizing that I, along with half of the Old Country Buffet seating section was staring at her wondering how she didn’t spill a drop of gravy or ‘beef au ju’ sauce from her plate.
Nothing” I said with a loving smile. “I’m gonna go back and get something else.”
You need to fill up, babe!” she said as I got up and headed to the meat bar.”

I walked over and looked at the roast beef and then looked at the chicken and the steaks and thought back in amazement at how Nadine had fit all of that on the tiny, ceramic plate. “Can I help you?” the young man behind the sneeze guard asked.
I’ll have a small piece of Strip Streak, rare.” I said, pointing to a specific piece that was sitting under a heat lamp.
After a few moments on the grill, the young man made a small incision into the meat and showed me a dark pink hue of meat and asked me if it done enough or if it should be cooked more. I shook my head no and told him it was fine before moving on to the potatoes and dinner rolls. After putting some green beans on my plate, I started back to my table and rather than notice a smiling, and happy Nadine I found my wife forcefully stabbing her fork into food and muttering like an insane woman.
Is everything alright?” I asked innocently.
NO!” she replied as she darted a look over at the old lady, who was no longer on her telephone. At that moment, the woman and her husband got up and headed towards the exit and the first thing I had wondered was they may have said something about the amount of food on my wife’s plate. But then again, I was always commenting on the amount of food my wife eats. She’s proud of the fact that she eats like a linebacker but built like a ballerina.

What’s going on?” I asked curiously.
Stupid, fuckin’ ignorant asses!” She called out to them before they got out of earshot.
NAY!” I reached out and put my hand on her’s to try and calm her down “What happened?”
That dumb bitch wanna ask me why I’m gonna be sitting at your table!”

Apparently, after I left, the woman on the cell phone didn’t notice Nadine show up, nor did she notice me leave. However, after she finished her phone call, she finished taking her notes or whatever it was that she was doing and then she happened to look over and she noticed a black woman sitting at the table where a white man had been sitting and she felt it was her duty to interfere…

Excuse me, Miss, but someone is already sitting at that table.” she said in a polite and condescending manner.”

Yeah. I know.” Nadine said with half-a-mouthful of steak.

Well, perhaps you should find a table of your own before he gets back?” Her tone went from condescending to down-right rude.

“He’s my husband, lady. Why don’t you mind your business.” Nadine was in not mood for this woman’s attitude.

No, dear. The man who was sitting at that table is a white man. You and your husband need to find your own table.” This woman was obviously stuck in 1957 and didn’t realize she was living in 2017.

Look lady!” Nadine said, lifting her steak knife and pointing it in the old lady’s direction. “My Husband IS that white guy and when he comes back over here and sits down you can git your old, wrinkled ass up and quit buggin’ me!”

I looked back at the old woman as she was pushing her husband through the exit doors without looking back. “Did you have to point your steak knife at her?

Did she have to be such a bitch?” Nadine had a point. Based on what she told me, the old woman was quite the bitch.

You don’t have to ask me why I love her. This story should say it all!


What does the Bible say about Interracial Marriage?


   I was sitting outside of the local area VA Hospital having a cigarette in the twenty-five degree weather of February when an older gentleman walked up to me and asked to bum an extra smoke. I don’t like to refuse my fellow Vets, so I obliged and handed the old man a cigarette. “You got a light?” The old man asked. I reached back into my pocked and pulled out my Zippo and flicked to life the flame so he could light his cigarette. “Oh, I like those lighters.” He said. I smiled, as I realized that most Veterans liked having Zippos. It was something we all had in the military. “I never was able to have one of my own.” I heard him say.


   You never had a Zippo?” I had to ask. I wanted to make sure I heard him correctly.


   Nope.” He said plainly as he exhaled the smoke from the cigarette I gave him.


   I looked around confused to make sure I was at the VA Hospital and then asked him. “Are you a Veteran?”


   ME?” He asked quizzically. “Naw. my brother was in the Marines.” He said matter-of-factly. “I had to bring him here for an appointment.”


   The old man then went on to talk about his brother’s service in Vietnam and how he brought home a Vietnamese bride. “Can’t say as I agree with mixin’ races like that.”


   What do you mean?” Being a man who is married to a black woman, I was very curious to hear his response and I was quite sure it would be something racist. However, I’ve heard my share of ignorance over the years and I was ready for anything. Then this man said something that I had not heard from anyone in all the years I had been dealing with folks who had something to say about my marriage…


   I’m a God Fearin’ Man and Deuteronomy 7:3 tells us to marry our own kind. We shouldn’t marry outside of our race. It just ain’t right.” He took his last drag of the cigarette I gave him and then he stubbed it out. I was afraid he would walk away without finishing our conversation, so I offered him another so we could continue.


   This man actually intrigued me.  On the one hand, I was almost upset that he wasn’t a racist and on the other hand I was pleased because I had just read over this passage in my daily scripture. It was almost as if I was supposed to meet this man and talk with him.


   Actually, Deuteronomy 7:3 was a religious reference, not an ethnic reference.” I did not tell him of my own marital status; however, I did want to correct his thinking. Being a man who loves God and reads the good book, I thought this needed to be explained a little better for him. After lighting up his second cigarette as well as my own, I went on to tell him that the Old Testament Law commanded the Israelites not to engage in interracial marriage however, the reason for this command was not for reasons of ethnicity, but rather religious reasons. God made such a commandment of the Jews because other races were worshippers of false gods and if Israelites intermarried, they would be led away from God. Anyone who read Malachi 2:11 would understand.


   The man smiled and stood up straight. “Yer one of them, aren’t ya?” he said with a curious smile on his face.

   I wasn’t sure what one of them was, so I just shrugged my shoulders at him. “One of WHOM?” I asked. 

   “One of them folks who marry those other folks.” I could tell he was being careful choosing his words.

   “And what type of folks would that be?” He glanced down at my ring finger and then glanced back up at me.

   He thought for a moment and then shook his forefinger at me as he gave a polite chuckle. “Nah. You ain’t gonna do that to me. Lemme ask you this… Is yer wife a white woman?”

   I smiled politely and informed him that wife was not a white woman. “And for the record she’s a good Christian woman.

   As if he was pulling from a holster, he drew his next weapon as he said. “In second Corinthians we are toldOr what fellowship can light have with darkness?” Implying that whites and blacks should not be together.

   “No” I said quite simply, implying that he was not just wrong. He was very wrong. He not only misrepresented the scripture, but he didn’t even quote it properly. 

   “In Second Corinthians 6:14 it is written: “Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?

I explained to the man that God is not talking about Black and White, he is referring to believers and non-believers. Therefore, as long as we have the same beliefs in God, our love can’t be wrong.

   The old guy dropped his cigarette into the snow and then reached out his hand to shake my own. After flicking my cigarette into the direction of the water drainage, I reached out and shook the man’s hand and just as he was about to let go I grabbed him tighter and pulled him towards me. He gave me a confused look and I gave him a very firm look as I told him that all men were created from God. We are all descendants from Adam and Eve, which makes us all from one race. “There is no such thing as multiracial or interracial.” I said with a stern look in my eye. “We are all the human race.”. He simply nodded and pulled his hand back and then thanked me. I’m sure he was thanking me for the cigarette, but I’d like to think he was thanking me for a bit more than that.


   If someone should ever tell you that the bible says interracial marriage is wrong, you can tell them they have misinterpreted God’s Word. The Bible never says marriage is wrong between races of people. God only wants believers to join together and raise families of faithful believers, no matter what color their skin.



cracker-aisle-at-targetMy wife and I were shopping for groceries and as we walked past the Toll House and Saltines I heard a phrase from a television commercial pop in my head. “You can find us in the Cracker aisle!”  I started chuckling to myself and said, “Hey, babe! Look at me! I’m in the Cracker aisle!”  She chuckled as she called me a “mess” and then we continued shopping.

Now, I’m pretty sure my wife was thinking about our grocery budget and trying to get everything on our grocery list at that time; however, I was walking with my head in the clouds as I tried to figure out, “Why the hell are we called crackers, anyway?” I nearly ran in to a few older, slower moving people because I wasn’t really paying attention to anything else. So I asked my wife if she knew.
What the hell are you taking about?” she said in an annoyed tone without looking up from her list.
Cracker!” I said. “Where the hell did that term come from?”
Slowly she looked up from her grocery list, with eyes dark as onyx and said, “Seriously?” She then rolled her eyes and went back to her shopping. “Instead of trying to be so analytical, why don’t you go get the deli meats.”

Yeah, my wife thinks she is pretty smart. She figured she would send me on a task to help get my mind back on track and help her grocery shop. But what she didn’t figure was that I’d be standing on line at the deli and I’d have time to do a BING search for my answers. After a few slides of my finger across the screen of my smart phone, I found the answers I was looking for.

According to Jelani Cobb, a historian at the University of Connecticut and a contributor to The New Yorker,

Cracker,” the old standby of Anglo insults was first noted in the mid-18th century, making it older than the United States itself. It was used to refer to poor whites, particularly those inhabiting the frontier regions of Maryland, Virginia and Georgia. It is suspected that it was a shortened version of “whip-cracker,” since the manual labor they did involve driving livestock with a whip (not to mention the other brutal arenas where those skills were employed.) Over the course of time it came to represent a person of lower caste or criminal disposition, (in some instances, was used in reference to bandits and other lawless folk.)

Wait  –  What??
When I first started thinking about the term, I thought it had to do with skin color resembling that of a saltine cracker. To me, that was funny! But after reading this, I was more insulted than anything else. I’m sure the word “cracker” doesn’t compare to other words I’ve been called. Twice in the past three years I’ve been referred to as a N**ger Lover by a white woman. It must have been four or five times I was referred to as a racist when I made public statements regarding my dislike for President Obama’s policy regarding the healthcare system.  My wife has been called horrible names in her lifetime and then worse for being married to a white man. And I understand that other races have reason to be upset for being called things like Nips, Spics, Zipper Heads, Krauts, Jews and Flips… The list can go on and on and I’m not comparing my being called a Cracker to any of that. I just thought I would have been better off not ever knowing this new information. Now, instead of hearing a term of endearment from wife when she playfully refers to me as her “favorite Cracker“, I’m going to immediately imagine some lowly, lawless bandit who carries a whip.

     “Number 46!” a woman from behind the deli counter called out. “Are you 46?”
I was snapped back to reality and I put away my smart phone as I placed an order for sliced roast beef, sliced cooked ham and some American cheese.
The woman smiled and replied, “We have some great soda crackers to compliment your cheese.”

fouet-1What, seriously??”

Opposites Attract except in the workplace.

Ever since I was a little kid, I had always heard the saying, “Opposites Attract.” It was meant for folks who have different tastes. Different likes and dislikes; such as – He likes Chocolate Ice Cream and she like vanilla. She likes her steak done well and he likes his red and bloody. He likes Star Trek and she likes Star Search. That type of thing. However, when I was a kid, I thought it meant White people like black people and Chinese people like Japanese people – and so on. Therefore, I had always wondered why there was nothing but white couples and black couples depicted on television or movies. I would always think, “Why didn’t they find an opposite. To a 9-year-old, that’s what opposite meant to me. I asked my cousin about this and he said, “White people can’t marry black people.” When I asked him why not he said, “I dunno. You just can’t” Forty-One years later I’m married to a black woman. My sister has been with a black man for the past nine years and my other sister dated mostly black men throughout her 20’s and 30’s.

My siblings and I grew up with some old fashioned parents. They were strict and they were very hard on us as we grew up; however, they were also understanding and loving. They taught us to always follow our heart and most important – “Judge a man by his character. Not his color.” and I’ve done my best to adhere to those words all my life. If there are people I do not like – it’s not because of their skin color or any external factor. It’s because they’ve done me wrong and it’s very hard for me to forgive. “Fool me once – shame on you. Fool me twice – shame on me!” Very, very rarely will I shame myself by giving someone the opportunity to do so.

I’ve been at my current job for a number of years and when I first started there was this guy who was quite friendly with me. He’s originally from Jersey and I’m from New York so we had the same mind set, (as most east coasties). For years he would stop at my office door and we’d talk sports and it was pleasant. However, one day I overheard him complaining about me to our manager. I went to her door to give her a message when I noticed him in there talking. As I stepped back to walk away I overheard him complaining that I was “too difficult to work with.” I was floored! Just moments ago he was laughing in my office and talking about the Mets and suddenly – he was in my manager’s office saying all these horrible things. I quick paced back to my office and waited for him. Every time I heard a door open, I’d run out and look up the hall; however, her door would still be closed. After nearly a half an hour of this, I decided I would ask him why he felt as he did. Instead, my manager showed up at my office. I looked past her for Mr. New Jersey; however, he was no where in sight. When I turned my attention back to my supervisor she started off by saying, “Can we talk?” Then she closed my door. I knew it was going to be in regards to Jersey Guy being in her office.

As it turned out – he told our manager that I was “difficult to work with” and I was “Unapproachable”. Can you believe that? This guy stopped at my office every morning to chat and laugh and suddenly I’m unapproachable. I didn’t argue, nor did I defend myself. After all, I had nothing to defend. This was his issue, not mine. She made a few silly requests of me, like putting something nice in my emails; instead of being so direct. She asked that I make it a point to be more social. Yeah – forget all the work I have to do on a daily basis. I thought to myself. I racked my brain trying to figure out how I was “unapproachable” to this guy when suddenly it dawned on me. I had just recently gotten married and had a small, framed picture on my desk of me and my wife. Mr. Jersey must have seen the image of my wife and then lost his mind. I’m not going to go so far as to label him a racist; however, I can’t think of any other reason he’d do such a thing.

As I walked down the hallway to his office, I was determined to confront him and find out why he was being such an asshole; however, he was out of the building. It was a few days later and I was headed to my supervisor’s office when suddenly, Mr. New Jersey popped out of his office. When he spotted me, he immediately averted his eyes towards the floor and walked right past me without saying a word. My first instinct was to call out to him but then I thought about it. As curious as I was about the entire ordeal, I wasn’t hurt or brooding over this. I just wanted to know. But to see him so uncomfortable at the mere sight of me made me realize I didn’t need to ask him anything. It was his problem and now he had a bigger problem. He had to deal with seeing me every day and would have to avoid looking at me. I imagined his comfort level would drop significantly every time he saw me or had to walk by my office. And you know what? That was perfectly fine by me. I erased him from my mind and didn’t let it bother me. Instead, he would have to feel this way every time he encountered me. What made it even funnier was the fact that every once in a while he would have to come to me for assistance and that was just awesome to me!

I’ve had plenty of opportunities to speak with him regarding his comments to my supervisor. I had plenty of opportunities to tell him that if he has a problem with me, he should come to me before running off to my supervisor; but the more I thought about it the more I liked the idea of just ignoring him. Now, I have an extra fifteen minutes every morning where I am working and not talking about the Mets or the Yankees.

I’ve been with my wife for quite a number of years and we’ve had to put up with a lot over those years. Family or friends of the family don’t like me or don’t like her because they don’t agree with our marriage and you know – Much like Jersey Guy – it’s their problem. Not mine. So I erase them. I don’t forget them, nor do I forgive them. I just erase them and move on. I’m not going to let their insecurities or prejudices bring me down!

How about you?

Speak out!

A few years ago I was sitting at a bus stop, waiting for the bus to take me into downtown Pittsburgh. I was sitting on the street, leaning against the wall reading a book and wearing headphones. Music was playing, but because I was reading the volume was very low. Just a few feet away were two other guys sitting on the steps of a nearby business, smoking cigarettes and talking amongst themselves. They were white guys, in their mid to later thirties. I’m not sure what they were talking about, but then again – I wasn’t paying attention. I was reading my book and enjoying the sunshine. It was then that a group of young, black kids came by. They were talking loudly and laughing. They were wearing the types of clothes that most kids wear these days. One had a collared, pullover shirts stretched down to knees, while another was wearing an “A” Shirt (wife beater) with his drawers sagging low and his boxers sticking up. The third guy had no shirt and sagging drawers with exposed boxers as well.

As they walked past, joking with one another, one of the kids pushed his buddy, causing him to spill out his soft drink right in front of the two, older white guys. No one was hurt, and no one had any drink spilled on them. “Yo – sorry ’bout that, man“. Said the young man with no shirt. The kids kept walking and eventually turned the corner.
Fuckin’ Niggers!” Said one of the white guys on the steps.

I remember I stopped reading, but I kept my eyes on the pages of my book. I wanted to see what more they would say, so I reached in my pocket and turned down the volume on my radio, but left my earbuds in my ears. When I heard no more, I looked up to see if those guys were still sitting there and one of them looked up at me. “Can you believe those fuckin’ degenerates?” He said to me as he kicked dirt over the spilled soda on the ground. “That’s what you get when animals are raised with no fathers!”

    “They don’t have fathers?” I asked coyly – knowing full and well that they were making a general accusation.
None of those fuckin’ eggplants have fathers!” The second guys said while laughing. I turned and looked over my right shoulder towards the corner to see if those kids were still there and then turned back to the two guys – who had no idea they were talking to someone who happened to be married to a black woman. They simply assumed – because of the color of my skin color – that I shared their warped views.

    “My wife grew up with her father.” I stated plainly. But my point seemed to elude them as the stared at me with blank looks in their eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?” The first guy asked.

   “Your friend stated black people don’t grow up with fathers and I’m telling you that my wife grew up with a father.” I was just about to turn my attention back down to my book when I noticed their eyes light up as if someone had just turned on the light bulbs. They sat there, staring at me while their cigarettes burned slowly between their pale, white fingers. They said nothing more and when the bus arrived, they remained sitting the steps. As I got up to meet the bus, I turned to them and gave a small wave. “Have a nice day, gents.” I said sarcastically.

I didn’t need to get pissed off and start a fight. I didn’t need to get in their faces. When it comes to racists, cowards like those guys – one does not need to get upset. They didn’t say anything about those kids when they were in ear shot – those guys waited until those kids were around the corner. Just by simply letting them know that I was married to a black woman, it let them know just how ignorant and stupid they truly are.

I don’t care who you are or where you are. Should someone say something to you and it ‘personally’ affects you – say something! I don’t care if it’s old couple who doesn’t understand interracial relationships. Staying silent won’t help them learn anything. Speak out and say what’s on your mind – but do so with eloquence. it makes them look that much more ignorant.

Even if you’re not in an interracial relationship – speak out and let it be known that we are no longer living in the dark ages. This is a new millennia and we’ve learned much over these past fifty, neigh one hundred years. Speak out and help stop the hate.

Thank you!

No Thought necessary…

My wife and I have been together for nearly eight years and for me, it seems like we’ve just started dating. These past eight years have gone by so fast with so much happening that I was in shock when I realized how many years it has actually been.

The other day, my wife was standing at the bathroom mirror, primping herself and adding make-up after fixing her hair and i casually said; “Why do you do that?
Whaddaya mean?” She asked, looking at my reflection in the mirror.
I mean – You are so beautiful, why do you feel you need make up?”
She glanced up at the mirror image of me and half smiled as she replied, “I don’t like my pot marks.
I was confused by her reply. I remember my right eyebrow nearly forcing my eye closed as I furrowed my brow. “What the hell are you talking about?” I said as I put my hands on her shoulders and kissed the back of her neck.
She used her index finger and then pointed to her cheek, where she has some minor scarring from her younger days dealing with acne. “This is what I mean.” She said with a playful, sarcastic tone.
I have never noticed that before.” I stated honestly.
My wife immediately spun around on her heel and threw her arms around my neck. “That’s why I love you.” She said before planting a kiss on my lips.

I watched her apply her make up and the few, tiny little scars disappeared behind the magic of her little brown sponge. Her marks are not big and they do not draw attention away from her natural beauty. However, I’m sure she sees things differently since she goes through such great lengths to cover them up. But for me, it was never an issue because I honestly had never noticed anything on her face until she pointed it out to me. That’s because I didn’t fall in love with her because of her face. I fell in love with her laugh. I fell in love with her heart and all of her inner beauty shined brighter than what she sees in her own mirror. This got me to thinking about other things that I don’t see when it comes to my wife.

11053470_927327433978961_8098711662993487923_nA few months back, I was sitting at my desk in my office when a cleaning woman came in and asked if she could do some high dusting and vacuum my carpet. I was happy to let her, since our regular cleaning guy would just bust in with the vacuum and start cleaning without so much as a warning. The woman was short and stout. She was in her late fifties or early sixties and had certain motherly qualities about her that made it easy to move out of  her way and let  her do what she needed to do. Just as I was about to exit my office for the men’s room, I heard her call out to me. “Oh! So you’re married to a sister.” I froze for a second and then turned around to see her glaring at my wedding photo. “Excuse me?” I said. I wasn’t exactly sure I understood what she was saying to me.
I didn’t know you was married to a black woman.” She said.
I thought about her words and was about to say, “I didn’t know, either.” However, I didn’t want to come across as sarcastic, so I simply said, “Oh.

These things help me to realize that seeing a person for who they are rather than what they are makes for a wonderful relationship. When it comes to my wife, I don’t notice her skin color unless it is something that she and I are talking about. When I wake up in the morning, I don’t look over and see a black woman in my bed. I see a beautiful, amazing woman who gave me the privilege of being her husband. I see a woman who has a heart of gold and I thank God for every day he has given me with her.

Recently, the movie “LOVING” premiered in theaters.mv5bmje4nti3njizof5bml5banbnxkftztgwnji0nti5ode-_v1_sx214_al_
It is the story of Richard and Mildred Loving, an interracial couple, whose challenge of their anti-miscegenation arrest for their marriage in Virginia led to a legal battle that would end at the US Supreme Court. Since this movie came out, it had me thinking of how awful it must have been to live in a society where mutual attraction and love of a man and woman was actually restricted to race and skin color. What was it that caused our society to see this as anything other than people in love? It is my belief that fear is what causes people to act so irrationally when it comes to interracial relationships. White men fear they are losing their identity and that soon, there will no longer be white people as interracial breeding will create a generation of black and brown children with blue and green eyes. Or perhaps it is simply due to the fear of the unknown. I know for myself, I wondered if a black woman’s kiss tasted differently than a white woman’s kiss. I discovered (at a very young age) that all the kisses taste the same!  And it’s not just white men who think this way. I’ve over heard a white woman tell another white woman that she should not consider pursuing me as a date because she wasn’t the color I prefer. I immediately let it be known that I heard what she said, and I let  her know that it has never been a matter of preference for a certain color. My first wife is Filipino and my second wife an IRISH heritage white woman. In my youth I dated Asian women, Black women, White women – I didn’t date them because of their race, I dated them because I was attracted to them. When I me my wife, I didn’t say to myself, “I think I want to marry a black woman.” At the time we met, I had just broken off a relationship with a woman who was whiter than me! It just so happened that we didn’t get along with one another, so I moved on. Fortunately, I met my wife on an internet dating site. I didn’t ask to only meet black women. I left that selection open and waited to find the one who was right for me. It just so happens that that women happened to be black.

Dating someone of a different race gives you and your partner opportunities to break negative stereotypes about your respective races. Providing a counterexample to ignorant and hateful stereotypes helps others become more open-minded and accepting. I’m not just talking about cultural stereotypes either. My political affiliation suggests that I should be a racist, homophobic simply because of the letter “R” on my voting card but that isn’t true at all.

Not only are you likely to experience some racism and stereotyping from your family and friends, you’ll probably experience this in everyday society, too. People may be surprised to see you are a couple; they may treat you differently, judge you unfairly or make inappropriate comments. black-guy-disapproves-reaction-faceI can’t tell you how many times people have gawked at my me and my wife. One would think we were an animal exhibit at a zoo. This gawking came from older white couples; however, most of the disapproving looks came from black men. You see, there aren’t just racists of the white persuasion; there are black racists who are just as appalled when they see a white man with a black woman. The comments received by my wife are not actually mean, but just plain stupid. A co-worker of my wife once asked her if I actually glowed in the dark.

There are all types of stereotypes for all races of people. We shouldn’t allow these stereotypes and racist attitudes keep us from finding someone who is the right fit for us. If you limit yourself to one race in your search for the perfect spouse, you are cheating yourself. Be stronger than the narrow minded and open  yourself up to love from anyone. You’ll be surprised at what you will learn about them. Not to mention what you can learn about yourself.

Monochrome World?

Every day for the past few days it has been the same thing, over and over. I feel like Bill Murray in the movie, “Groundhog’s Day”.

I wake up, tired and fight morning traffic to drop my beautiful wife at her job and then fight even more traffic to get to my office where I spend eight and half hours doing work that no longer challenges me, nor does it excite me. After work, I get in the car, fight traffic to my wife’s job and pick her up and then drive home. She recites a few anecdotes about her job or some people she works with before picking up her cell and playing “Panda Pop” for the remainder of the car ride home.  When I get home, I gather all my belongings from the day and then reach into the mailbox and pull out our bills and a few flyers and two.. no, wait. THREE Letters addressed to me from State Farm Insurance. “I have GEICO, don’t I?” I think to myself as I slide my key into the lock. I then walk into my house and briskly walk to the security panel on the wall and key in my disable code as my four-year-old Pug/Shar Pei mix jumps excitedly at my hit, begging for attention. As I place my bag on the floor, I slide the mail into the unzipped opening and then take my dog out. When I return, I do my best to forget about the past ten hours and I sit on the sofa and before I know it, I’m waking up tired again.

This scenario played out “exactly” the same for the past three days, right down to the two or three State Farm Insurance letters in the mailbox. Finally, I asked my wife to take the dog out so I could get the to the bottom of all these Insurance envelopes. As I opened one of the letters, I discovered it was from a local area State Farm office; asking me to be their client. I threw it away, and believing the next envelope would be the same thing from the same office; I was shocked to see how annoying these people could be, sending me two or three letters a day for the past three days. However, upon opening the second letter, I noticed it was from a second local area branch office and even though they wanted me as their client, the wording was not identical to the first letter. This piqued my curiosity so I opened another letter. It too, was from a third different branch office, asking me to be their client but with different wording from the first two. Each of the three General Managers were different names with different branch addresses. What the hell is going on?” I said allowed. It was at this point that my wife returned with our dog. What’s up? She asked as she slapped me on the butt and grabbed another envelope from the table. They’re all from State Farm, asking us to be a client. I replied to her. She looked at me and replied, OH! That must be because of that Tweet, they sent out. My wife said, as if we had just struck gold.
What are talking about?” I asked.
State Farm tweeted something out about interracial couples and a whole bunch of racists replied to it, saying they were leaving State Farm and crap like that.”

When I arrived at work today, I did some research on the State Farm tweet and found out just how screwed up the people of this country truly are…

protecttheblingOver the holiday season, State Farm decided to run a campaign on social media and sent out this tweet, suggesting the newly engaged get insurance to “protect the bling#protectthebing. However, what they didn’t count on was the thousands upon thousands of racist hate that bounced back from all the degenerates who are now saying they will leave State Farm for another insurance company simply because of this ad photo. I was appalled at the replies and the disgusting memes that followed and will not show them on here; however, if you wish to witness racist hatred first hand, just search for State+Farm+Bling and see what comes up. If you’re a twitter fan, enter #protectthebling and see what shows up. It’s absolutely disgusting!

As a white man, married to a black woman, my wife and I have encountered “the looks” and we’ve heard “the comments“. We were never oblivious to the fact that there are narrow minded people in the world who would always have something stupid to say. However, these strongly worded tweets and comments show just how cowardly these type of people can be. Behind the safety of their computer screen and keyboard, they can say what is truly on their mind and in their hearts; however, when faced with the situation in real life they either say nothing or very little at all. Despite the looks and comments my wife and I have witnessed, we have never been subjected to anything so raw and heartless.

Over the past 10 years or so, there has been a horrible division of the American People. We all seem to be put in some type of categorical box. Either we are Liberals, or Conservatives. Democrat or Republican. Black or White. Hillary or Trump. Why is this so prevalent in our society? Why can we not just see ourselves as “Americans”? Color, Classes, Society, Politics; and whole list of other issues are breaking this country into smaller and smaller pieces. When did we stop believing; “United we stand and divided we fall.” We are so divided right now, it will not take a lot of effort for this country to fall.

My wife and I have been together for the past eight years. Our first date was walking through the streets of downtown Pittsburgh and talking to get to know one another.

I couldn’t believe the looks of disgust we got from people, and was even more horrified by the comments called out. “W’sup, gurl? You cain’t keep yo-self a good black man?” We did our best to ignore that guy and kept walking hand-in-hand. Years later, I was stunned when I took my wife out to dinner at a local diner and the woman had the audacity to look at me and say, “Dining alone, sir?” I put my around my wife and said, “No. I’m here with my wife.” The woman actually looked surprised and said, “OH! You two are together?”

Now, perhaps she was shocked by the fact that I was in the company of such a beautiful woman. Perhaps she didn’t think a guy who looks like me could be with a woman who’s as beautiful as my wife. I would LOVE to think those things are the truth, but something deep down in my heart tells me different. She either didn’t want to believe that a white man and a black woman should be together, or she was just an ignorant woman who wanted to verbally spit in our eye.

Here was are in the year 2017 (almost) and people are still carrying racial issues.
Morgan Freeman was being interviewed by 60 Minutes correspondent Mike Wallace regarding Black History Month. Morgan Freeman stated he didn’t like the idea of a black history month because he doesn’t think black history should be relegated to a month. “Black history is American History” Freeman said.
Well, how are we going to get rid of racism?” Mike Wallace asked. 11855881_901781306570905_4412402339987624395_n
Stop talking about it!” Freeman said adamantly. His statement actually caused nearly four seconds of dead air as Mike Wallace sat stunned and couldn’t think of another question. Morgan Freeman then continued. “I’m going to stop calling you a white man.” He stared at Mike Wallace and then continued. “And I’m going to ask you to stop calling me a Black Man. I know you as Mike Wallace and you know me as Morgan Freeman. That’s how we get rid of racism.”

I’m sure State Farm’s intention was to show diversity and the beauty of us all being as one. I do not believe they set out to create chaos and controversy. As I researched this subject, I noticed there were other back lashes as other companies suffered the same type of problems. General Mills Cheerios had a commercial of a bi-racial child talking to her black father over a bowl of cereal with the white mother in the background of a kitchen scene. A local jeweler had a commercial of a black man and a white woman laughing and frolicking in a park – I could keep going but it only makes me more upset to know that something as simple as two people being in love can cause such hatred in people.

Let’s all take Mr. Freeman’s advice and stop talking about race. Italian Americans, Polish Americans, African Americans, Mexican Americans – we all have one thing in common and that’s the fact that we’re American. Do you think if we went to Canada we would find “Black-Canadians” or “Mexican-Canadians”? If we moved to France, would we be considered “American-French”? That would be silly, wouldn’t it!
Then why is it not silly for us to label ourselves with such titles?

I love my wife.
She’s not my Black Wife. She’s not my “African-American Wife” She’s not my “Swirl-Partner”
She’s my wife, whom I love and will always love until the day I die. We should all have the same outlook when it comes to one another. Drop the “WHITE” from White Guy and you have a Guy. Drop the BLACK from Black Man and you have a man. It’s that simple.

I’m starting this blog, “Monochrome Heart” to keep a blog of events that my wife and I experience and we want to not only share it with other interracial couples, but with everyone of every color. I’d like to get your feedback on this subject. Do you think it’s racist for us to call one another by our skin color or is it racist to ignore race? Wouldn’t it be easier to live in a monochrome world?