The Blessing
Well, I usually start by telling him how much I like his Burlington Coat Factory necktie, or how delicious the cornbread is that his wife made. Honestly, that’s what I want to tell him. It’s what I’m used to, quick and easy, but I get the feeling that it won’t be a loaf of cornbread sitting on his living room table and his necktie will probably be Ralph Lauren or Nautica. We’re standing on this porch two inches from the rest of our lives and the only thing I want to say is… Is this outfit okay? (chuckles) Yea, that’s a question the girl would usually ask. I wasn’t even this nervous when I introduced you to my parents. My mom used to always say “If she can’t use a comb, don’t bring her home” (chuckles). I was surprised at how okay she was with you. All throughout high school I was so afraid to bring home anybody who wasn’t black. I knew my mom would smile in her face, but as soon as we were alone she’d call the whole family and complain about how all the good black men never want a black woman. One day I asked her, Did she ever think that women aren’t categorized by race? Did she ever think that the same human traits aren’t subject to race? I guess her reaction to you today was some type of new understanding she has. Have you ever been with a black guy? I mean I know my family has some issues with race, but you guys get the most hell about having problems with another race. I used to think that women like you were only nice to us black guys in order to stay on societies good side. I thought that, because of my skin color, I was only limited to a certain selection of females. I don’t know if you can understand this, but when I met you it was one of the lowest points in my life. I knew I loved you immediately, and I hated myself. I hated myself because I felt that my skin color was keeping us apart, and at that moment I would’ve done anything to shed my skin so that you might be able to see me for the person I truly was. Amazingly enough, you did. Maybe you get it from your father. (Knocks on the door)
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