Living in Perfect Harmony, On Queer Interracial Dating

In 2010, Jill Scott wrote an editorial about interracial dating and the sting she felt whenever she found out that a “good brother” was married to a white woman. The piece, published by Essence Magazine, predictably caused controversy, she was branded as yet another hatin’ ass Black woman and many left it at that. In the four years since, that article hops to the forefront of my mind every time I see a Black queer celebrity step out with their new white lover. As much as I try to fight it, I feel the wince Jill spoke of. I felt it when I saw Michael Sam kiss his boyfriend after the draft and when photos of Angel Haze kissing that Baldwin chick popped up. I have close friends with white partners (HA!) but, I still feel it. I feel this sting not because of a hatred of the swirl nor do I side-eye Black queers that are down with the swirl. My problem is the LGBTQ* community presents itself as a bastion of progressive politics but white supremacy still runs rampant. The racial dynamics in queer spaces are detrimental to all of us and we need to talk about it. This particular post is about romance but it goes so much deeper than what can be covered in one blog post. White and interracial couples presented as not only the norm but the ideal and this sends yet another message to Black queer people that we, whether coupled or single, are not enough. In a world where Blackness is scorned and queerness is seen as deviancy, this is a major burden for people who inhabit both of those identities.

It took me years to be comfortable with my identities and while I had help with my Blackness and female-ness from my mom, a lack of positive imagery of Black queer women took a toll. I had no clue what a successful relationship would look like for someone like me and on top of this, it was open season on Black women’s love lives. I was already being told no man wanted me and I didn’t care since I didn’t want a man and figured the LGBTQ* community would provide of smorgasbord of lovers. Like any other sentient being, I wanted love. I wanted someone who would love this nappy hair and cocoa skin of mine. I think I found that person but even if I did it, I should have been able to be content in my desirability and so should every other Black queer. My relationship shouldn’t be an anomaly or invisible because both partners are Black women. Even now, those old insecurities can creep up on me even though my girlfriend constantly affirms me. I’m still trying to figure this out on my own with the help of some queer media and the cool queers in my life. I’m not asking for anyone dump their white boos but can we dump the white pussy and peentis pedestals? We’re all valid and so is our love.

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