Slow, steady, stir...

And we wonder continuously, how... how it is, that we are still battling demons from our collective past, where among Black people, in all of our various shades of cream, tan, coffee, chocolate, brown, black... that it is still an issue among some of us.

I just finished reading a story in the book, Tales of Conjure by Charles W. Chesnutt called 'A Matter Of Principle'. It was sad and funny in it's irony, at the same time. The story takes place a few years after the Civil War, among a family of 'well-to-do' very light-skinned, black folks who believed in the principle of keeping their blood line as white as possible. It was amazing, yet not surprising, how they so freely discussed dark, black folks in the same regard and vernacular that you'd expect from racist white folks. I had to laugh at how based on their steadfastness in making sure that their daughter did not ever become involved with a man who was darker than 'olive-skinned' tone with 'good, straight/curly hair', caused such an ironic missed opportunity. But in the end, it's such a sad legacy of confusion we continue to deal with, and on the surface seems that it should be such a trivial matter.... but it's not.

The fracture runs so deep among us, and although I believe we've come a long way to get over these psychological wounds, the toxicity of that sad legacy is as pervasive as a virus and it continues to seep into our realities here and there. I have to admit, it's shocking to meet folks who still live by the principle, but then it is how they were raised, I suppose, as well as how our society still responds in some instances in their perception, where it's worth holding on to that principle.

I was at a car dealer one morning a few years ago, waiting for scheduled maintenance to be done on my car, and a woman came in. We began to chat and somehow got on the subject of dating. She told me that she had met a real nice man while walking in the park and how they began to date, and how she ended up marrying that man. She went on to tell me how she almost missed out on marrying this nice man who is very good to her, because she said initially, she felt that he was too black.

I looked at her when she said that with some confusion... what could she have meant by that was my initial thought... and she went on to explain as she recognized the confused expression on my face, that he was too dark.

I was so shocked... I believe my mouth fell open. I mean, it wasn't like she was all that light-skinned. I'm glad she got past her initial reservations about the man based on his hue, and it ended with them both being happy together.

And now when I think about it, I guess she has a right to her preference, just like anyone else. So after reading that story... I was inspired to write about the 'slow, steady, stir'... the blending of our blood, our spirit, our souls... where over the centuries and after being so sorely segmented in such tragic and devastating ways, that we might continue to grow together with love and respect in the spirit of a loving God. We have to recognize where some of these principles come from, and have some compassion, and then work toward relieving ourselves of this kind of mental bondage.

'Happiness is a choice'