I don’t use Grindr, the gay hook-up app, because if I want to shag a stranger in a pay toilet all I need to do is walk down the road.But I did once, and I stated my preference: no whites.
And finally, we live in a world that provides white people with privilege while constantly affirming their whiteness at the cost of Blackness.
He had sat across from me after ordering a soy milk vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso. Peter looked longingly at his vanilla latte, suddenly making me wish I was the warm paper cup that sat in front of him.
As he pulled off his gloves he said, “Your hair is very cool.” At the time, I was rocking a high-top fade. I hesitated, not because I had thought the question was offensive or inappropriate but because I had painstakingly molded it with my hands only ten minutes before to make sure it was symmetrical. I had wanted to please him; my reservations melted away instantly.
But what happens when the answer on the other end of the courtship courtroom is not the one you expected? Being raised in the suburbs of Southern California I never really saw the extremity of segregation until my adult years.
What if someone dares to date outside of their race? The white kids always thought my curly hair was cooler than theirs and even my clique of elementary playground bandits ranged from pale and Mormon to first generation Hispanics.