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No, I'm Not Dating Him so My Kids Can Have Curly Hair

Chronicles of an Interracial Couple

By Boipelo AdrianPublished 5 years ago 4 min read
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Arriving at the till in any store is a little different for me, especially when I am with him. Amidst deciding whether or not I want a “plestik” I make other calculative decisions as to whether or not I am going to respond in my mother tongue (Setswana) and embarrass both the teller and the packer for their whispers or if it’s one of those I am going to ignore.

I don’t really know what it is about my caramel skin, well-endowed derriere and my crown of 4C hair that makes my people think I don’t understand when they are talking about me being with him because he has money. I usually go with the latter; no “plestik” and ignore what they are saying and respond in English.

See, it has become commonplace for us to find ourselves in situations like these. Some are in good humour, some are really sweet and make us blush and giggle, but some are, what’s the word, derogatory.

We have noticed though; Caucasian people will stare, be either shocked, confused or awkwardly joyful and then swiftly go on with their business. My people though… they’re either seriously brave or seriously in denial that I am black or I’m actually well versed in my mother tongue; I’m still deciding which one it is.

We have heard it all quite frankly, to such an extent that nothing surprises us anymore. That, however, does not mean it doesn’t hurt us; especially when it comes from family. My partner doesn’t hear a lot of it because it is said in vernac (no he does not speak vernac, will he learn vernac? I don’t know, will I learn Spanish? Duolingo doesn’t seem to think so.)

I remember being in a grocery store one afternoon with him, it was a quiet weekday in Potchefstroom (yes how brave of us to be in an interracial relationship in Potch.) We stood at the meat section deciding what we wanted for supper when I noticed two guys not too far from us speaking Setswana. Speaking not about us but as if they were us (strange, I know).

  • First guy: “No friend, let’s make mince tonight.”
  • Second guy: “No my friend I’m not having supper with you, I just need to store my meat in your freezer because mine broke, remember.”

Now, as creative and I assume entertaining as that was for them, it was sad for me to hear. Sad on their behalf. They so badly refused to see “one of their own” with another in an intimate interaction that they had to alter the dialogue for themselves to something a little more manageable to swallow.

My people will often walk past us while we hold hands and whisper “traitor.” Uhm, firstly, we are not fighting some war and secondly, I did not choose a side, I chose a man to love who loves me. A man no different to you, except in the way he makes my heart feel. Our relationship is not some kind of metaphor or some big f*%k you to 1949. It’s a relationship that just happens to have one person who has more melanin than the other.

The most challenging thing I’ve had to hear though was something that came from a family member. It wasn’t so much what was said but rather that it came from someone I thought we could count on for support and the cliché but quintessential unconditional love. This was the one time that I actually responded and also the last. I soon realised that no matter how much you explain how you feel or how you see things; people will only hear and understand what is easiest for them to accept and never what you say. I also realised that there is no point at which I have to explain myself and especially not to a member of my family asking, “What is wrong with dating a decent black guy who is like you.”

Hear me, and hear me well when I say; there is no special reason that a black girl dates a white guy, a white girl dates a black guy or any way you can imagine it.

It is not because one of the families have more money. We are millennials, we value hard work and the

hustle, we can and will make our own riches.

It is not because we are “coconuts.” Good people, can we please stop labelling each other simply because one enjoys something other than what is ascribed to “blackness.”

It is certainly not because we want our kids to have curly hair, green/blue eyes or to be called “a mixed baby.” Curly hair requires a lot of product, product costs a lot of money, I prefer to travel, do the math.

Besides, I love my 4C hair and hair is so fleeting in any case; hair today… gone tomorrow, neither are we or should be defined by our hair; it’s not 1949 and just in case you were wondering…

…Nothing, there is nothing wrong with dating a black guy neither do black guys lack anything.

I just fell in love with a boy and apparently, he doesn’t come in the colour that you would prefer him to, but that sound like a you problem. Not us.

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About the Creator

Boipelo Adrian

Just a boy and a girl who fell in love, care deeply about mental health, dream of building an empire and often forget they're of different races until the world reminds them

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