14 Dec
24 Oct
24 Oct

Interracial Dating and Why I’m Tired of Talking About It

29 Aug

This Monday I woke up to a frantic text message from a sophomore girl soliciting me for advice about a “very personal matter.” Worried and ready to come to the rescue of my younger-sistah-in-the-struggle, (that was the part where you don’t take me seriously) I let her know that I was available to talk after 11a.m. and would prefer to do so over lunch.

We met at the dining hall, engaged in small talk as we passed up the ‘Quesadilla Soup,’ opted for deli sandwiches, and found a table far away from the crowded entrance. I sat down at the wobbly table and barely spread the mayo on my turkey sub as she blurts out “I need help with dating outside of the race!”      *record scratch* (What?!) 

My stomach curls, my mouth clenches, and my no-this-trick-did-not eyebrow-raise is in full-effect. I was shocked… and annoyed. So much so, that although her mouth was moving at one-hundred miles per minute, I could only hear my inner-voice; “I thought this was something important!” “I know yo ass is on academic probation but I’m skipping weight-training because you want to snuggle with a brotha from the otha tribe?””  And lastly, “Why am I having another conversation about my ex’s race?”

As these thoughts went through my mind like clockwork, I sat there, uninterested, as homegirl went on and on and on like she was Erykah Badu with questions about how my (EX) man felt about my hair, what White guys on campus thought about my shape, and how she should read advances from her White male counterparts.  Pretending to be interested, I smiled -fighting the urge to make a snide remark about having her priorities in order- and told her to approach said white-chocolate-manchild like she would anyone else and just be herself.

Needless to say, Badu was not satisfied with my  response. Demanding that I tell her ‘how I did it’ and asking ‘what he was like’ (I’ll leave that for your personal interpretation) my friend refused to believe that my magical interracial relationship had ups and downs– just like anyone else’s.  I spent the lunch half-listening, half-eating, and completely tired of telling this girl that White men don’t come with a cape and superpowers. And she wasn’t the first person that I had to explain this to! I’ve been tagged as the poster-child for interracial dating by friends, I’ve been confronted at Black Student Union meetings for disowning Black men, and screamed at in class (yes, homegirl was ready to ‘put them paws on me’) just because I was dating a guy… who happened to be white.

Yeah, you read that right; he just so happened to be white. I hate to break it to those of you who, like Badu, think that White men are mystical creatures that require a life coach and secret potions to attain, or that dating White men or dating ‘outside the race’ in general will solve the Black women’s plight. Hey! Guess what, race had nothing to do with our feelings for each other. Sure, ish got real when I had to explain to him why we could only walk within a five block radius of my house when he came to visit and yeah, we endured some stares at the farmer’s market when I visited him in his uber-rural Vermont town, but, honestly, we were just two shy freshman on the Track team that liked Chilli-Cheeseburgers, March Madness, and each other’s company.  We were college sweethearts. Not a gimmick.

So, yeah, I scoff at the articles that encourage you to date Whiteboy-Bobby because Albert Haynesworth only dates White women, and I roll my eyes whenever my friends beg me for advice on interracial dating when they’re failing English101. I’m furious when you go out looking for a ‘Whiteboy’ because “Black men ain’t shit” because for every Haynesworth dating white women and believes in the Angry Black Woman stereotype, there’s a sweet boy from Vermont that will love you because your impersonation of his football coach makes him laugh. And if you pay more attention to the man behind the smile and less attention to that man’s race, you’ll be lucky enough to find the latter.

Peace, Love, & PWIs


So, You’re Like… An Ethnic Studies Major… Right?

18 Jul

No! Actually, I’m a History and English double major… and last time I checked Ethnic Studies isn’t an offered Major or Minor at our school. Not to mention the last time I double-checked, “African-American Women Pre-1960” is a part of… (wait for it… wait for it…) yup!, you guessed it… HISTORY!  So you could only imagine my state of bewilderment each time I’m posed with the question(s) “Why do you take all of those race classes?” and “So, You’re Like… An Ethnic Studies Major, Right?” (need I remind you that that doesn’t exist here?).  And when I let you in on a little secret (you know, that I actually specialize in European History and only took three of those ‘Ethnic Studies’ classes to satisfy a major requirement…) then you might really understand the what-the-fuck-eyebrow-raise that consumes my face and prevents me from breaking it down so it can consistently and forever be broke. (Love Jones anyone?)

Quite frankly, there are several reasons as to why classes like “African-American Men/Women in History/Literature/Art/Theater” are necessary. Black (along with women’s, Latinos, Asian-American, and Native American) voices, experiences, and cultures are omitted, excluded, and marginalized from various realms of academia.  There are survey American History courses that by-pass the Civil Rights Movement and Honors History Students who don’t know that Japanese Internment Camps ever happened.  And those are just two present day issues.

But, in order to avoid this turning into a heated lesson about historiography, I’ll leave you with this fun-fact and some final thoughts. After a strike in 1968, the Black Student Union at San Francisco State drafted a political statement, “The Justification for African-American Studies.”  Because African-American and other non-white contributors to U.S. history were not being covered in various disciplines, an interdisciplinary subject had to be created in order to produce the power in numbers necessary for institutional change to occur. Political Theory had to be combined with Literature, Art and Economics in order to get W.E.B. DuBois in a Sociology classroom, Zore Neale Hurston in an English Seminar, and Joshua Johnson in an Art History lecture.

So, instead of asking me if I’m “totallllyy, like an Ethnic Studies Major,” a better question to ask is how can one take a class on U.S. History (you know, because the Americaconsist of more than the 48 continental states) without talking about Native American culture. Or, better yet, why don’t you ask your professor why Black Feminists aren’t covered in their Women & Gender Studies 101 lecture or why you’ve encountered three Arthur Miller plays, three of Tennessee Williams’ and two of Samuel Beckett’s in your theater class and August Wilson and Lorraine Hansberry barely got a shoutout.

Peace, Love, and PWIs,




25 Apr


Hey girl hey!!!

So, if you somehow managed to stumble upon this page, looked at the title and thought; Black Girl at PWI Problems?… I have plenty of those!, I’m 99% sure that some blonde- or brunette- elliptical loving, policy drafting, self-acclaimed ally- white-liberal-in-disguise has greeted you with the oh-so-annoying “Hey girl hey!” Or maybe, just maybe, it was a simple yet classic, “Hey girl!,” or even a “Hey boo!” accompanied by a forty-five degree neck tilt and a Z-snap?  Whichever cardinal you-know-damn-well-and-good-you-don’t-talk-to-anybody-else-like-that sin it was… you’ve been the victim of an acute crime.

Okay, so a crime may be too much… but it’s definitely hella annoying. From the drastic changes in vernacular, to the hair-petting, and all of the random Sh*t White Girls Say to Black Girls in between, life at a PWI can be a bit daunting. But it can be entertaining as well. Admit it!.. you had fun at that one Toga Party freshman year and even when you’re transferring to Howard three times a week, you’ve had good times at your PWI.

BlackGirlatPWI wants to cover everything about college life for Black women across the country-the good, the bad, and the ugly. I’ll be publishing blog posts a few times a week and welcome requests!

Peace, Love, and PWIs,