They smoked weed in their parents’ houses with abandon. If they wanted me, I thought, it was because I seemed free like them.
It’s an odd thing to then go back to my date and continue the performance of “getting to know you.” I fantasize about walking up to him and saying, “Gotta go!I know a man isn’t going to get me through the Trump era.But the less work I have to do to make him understand how I feel, the better chance I have of getting through the next four years with my head still on.In those moments, I’ve wished to be sitting in front of someone who could relate.Despite knowing I can feel intimacy with white guys, right now what divides us feels like a chasm.While I tried to explain to this man why what he was saying was offensive, my boyfriend stood there in silence.
Later, I tried to convey how hurt I was that he didn’t say anything, but he didn’t seem to understand how bewildered I was.
They’re in the streets, calling senators and congressmen, attending community board meetings, and holding sign-making parties. But while the political universes of my white friends are cracking open, I’m feeling more inclined than ever to cloister myself.
I’ve gone on a few dates with white guys in the last few months, and the same thing always happens.
There are, in my relationships with white men, so many moments like that.
No matter how close I held the mirror up to their faces, sometimes their good and liberal wells of understanding and compassion were simply inaccessible.
Every white man I’ve dated has, sometimes consciously and sometimes not, asked me to explain to them some aspect of blackness.