Dating a younger black man
The feelings I experienced that fateful night at the bar, and admittedly many times thereafter, now evoke the wise words of Malcolm X: “If you're not careful, the newspapers will have you hating the people who are being oppressed, and loving the people who are doing the oppressing.” Unpacking privilege and sorting through the complexities of racial and sexual politics as a bi-racial woman in white America can be a high task.Accepting that my seemingly personal decisions regarding who will occupy my company or my body, is a high task.The black man occupies a unique space in American culture.He is an aggressive and inherently violent threat to society.Both insatiable and lazy, he is creator of chaos and maker of his own inevitable demise; he is forever guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. As angry and volatile as their female counterparts, black men, by their very presence, give society reason to assume the defensive.He is simultaneously invisible and ever present in the minds and lives of white America. Debased, filthy and unworthy, black men, we are told, are sexual deviants incapable of either desiring or maintaining healthy, meaningful relationships.I choose to internalize their experiences of undervaluation, passed over promotions and emasculation.
And the company that most defines us is, in fact, our choice in a mate.I knew that the Access Denied Pass did not extend to me – when I was in the “right” company, so shame on me for surrounding myself with such company, right? I still remember how I felt when I first dated a white man.