Monochromatic Marriages and the South

Believe it or not, I do try to stay away from this subject.  But sometimes it simply cannot be ignored.  It is a rare thing of wonder to be a biracial couple in the South.  Sometimes I feel like a zoo animal.  What is so curious, I wonder, about my life?  Indeed, I fear I am developing a narcistic image from it all, as if I need to look my best at every outing due to the many heads I will turn (though not in the traditional sense).  Yesterday in the check out line in Kroger the cashier asked, "I'm sorry, are y'all dating?"  I looked at my husband of three years.  "We're married"  I replied.  An awkward silence was followed by "I see you two in here all the time.  I just wondered."  Now let's not be naive here, how many monoracial couples had she asked this question to that day?  Ignoring the creepy stalkerish feeling I got from the words "I see you two in here all the time" I couldn't help but feel frustrated and embarassed for the cashier's ignorance.  I don't feel the comment came from a place of hatred or disgust, but nonetheless I can't help but at times be hurt by how incredulous it is to some people that my husband is actually my husband.  We frequent a Subway near our home and on one occassion I offered to go alone to grab breakfast.  I was met with the question "Where is your friend?"  My friend?  The "friend" that I am here with at least weekly with whom we always pay together?  The "friend" that has a huge shiny wedding ring on that has an interesting design that is difficult to miss?  Now you may say I'm being overly sensitive.  But I have to ask you, honestly, how many same-race married couples get asked by the cashier if they are married?  How many really?

I have a friend who is also in an interracial marriage who calls herself biracial.  At first I thought it to be silly, because people don't look at her aside from her husband and think she must have an African-American parent.  But the longer I am married the more I understand she is talking about being mentally biracial - seeing the world through the eyes of a person with white skin as well as a person with black skin.  It continues to amaze me how different the world looks from both points of view.  Last Christmas I went to a store with my husband and my father.  Both of them picked up two jars of jam each.  My father walked right by the cashier to the other side of the store.  My husband followed him.  As my husband passed the cashier she said "Let me hold those up here for you."  My husband set the jars down at the counter and turned to walk toward me.  It hurt my heart when he whispered "she thought I was going to steal those."  It's difficult to deny evidence of prejudice like that.  I could go on and on about the countless times we have been prejudiced against, like the first time in my life I couldn't get service at the perfume counter at Dillards.  But this post is not about prejudice or hatred.  It is about being unashamed in the midst of a culture that doesn't understand.  It is about being so comfortable in your own skin that you, like me, are surprised when someone questions it.  It is about seeing the world in a new way.  And I thank God for the opportunity to experience the world in new ways and with greater understanding.