My Personal Space in the World

A young Black woman, mother to four children, trying to find some kind of existence in this vast space called earth.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Deeply in Love

I am in love. Deeply. Completely. Undeniably. He has my undivided attention and always will. I could never stray away from him. I will always be there for him. Who is this person I am so in love with? My Black man.

Black men come in so many different hues, I wouldn't know which one to try first. There is my cream-colored man, my caramel-colored man, my honey-colored man and last, but certainly not least, is my licorice-colored man. Why am I stressing "my"? Because he belongs to me. I don't believe in that "to each its own" jive. A Black IS my own or he wouldn't be called a Black man. I am the only one who can identify with him. I am the only one who can truly feel his joy, his anguish, his love. I am the only one who can sympathize with him and with all honesty, say "I feel you" when he has a dilemma. I love the sight, the touch, the feel and the taste of my Black man. But it hurts me to my soul that he doesn't always feel the same way. He sees me as being too pushy, too needy, too bossy. Is that my fault? Sometimes. Is it his fault? Sometimes. But I can understand why he feels that way. While it takes two to destroy a relationship, society also plays a part. Let me explain....

Society has made my man almost feminized in his relationship. It took his woman and made her the head of his household. Where do I get this concept from? I think back to the Spike Lee movie "X" and I remember a scene with Denzel Washington and Angela Bassett playing Malcolm and Betty and she is arguing with him about his travels for the Nation of Islam and his being taken advantage of by Elijah Mohammad and they are bantering back and forth and Malcolm tells her, in his deep base voice "Don't you raise your voice in my house!". And incredilously, Betty quiets down. I love that scene because it showed how we have become so dysfunctional in our Black families. Not that I'm expecting a "Me, Tarzan, you, Jane" attitude but a Black man should feel some sort of control in his own home because he has no control over much of anything once he ventures out in to the world for business or leisure. Can you picture a scene like that today? Imagine if a Black man tells his woman to quiet down in his house. What do you think she'll say? "Who you think you talking to??" or "You not my father! You can't tell me what to do!!" or even "Whose house, n****r? This is MY house! If you don't like it, you can get the f@*! out!!!" How can 40 years later, we get from "his house" to "her house" while much hasn't changed in our white counterparts lives except that the woman CHOOSES to go to work but it is still her husband's house. It is just so unbelievable....and sad.

What also pains me is how we as Black women and men turn to other races and nationalities, hoping that we can get the serenity and prosperity that we actually yearn for with our own race. My teenage daughter prefers white men because she feels they have more education, make more money and (as she says) don't end up in jail. I am so hurt by my offspring's yearning for someone who will not completely understand her. All these attributes doesn't make a caucasian a better man. In response to her statements, I told her that I may argue with my mate and, on occasion, with her father but I would choose to be unhappy and be with a Black man than to be happy and be with a white one. She looked at me dumbfounded. I also told her that she is young and she will learn who she needs to be with. If she chooses to be with a white man, so be it. I will still love and support her. I can't say the same for her father who has made it clear that he will not accept her being with anyone but a Black man. I hope she makes the right decision.

No matter what, I will continue to be there for my Black man. And I will continue to love him. I love him so much that I couldn't desert him for anything or anyone.