Multicultural Families: What Do You Mean We're Different?
Jun 08 '00 (Updated Oct 22 '01)
The Bottom Line Love doesn't have a skin color, culture, or ethnicity.
Falling In Love...
I remember when I decided to get married, I was young, naive and so full of love and passion for my wife-to-be, I couldn't breath if she was more than 10 feet away.
I met her while stationed in Central America with the US Army. I walked into a clothing store to buy some shorts and there was the most beautiful woman that walk this earth. I DO believe in love at first sight, and BAM, there it was. Our eyes met and we both knew that we were going to be together. It was more than sexual, it was spiritual. Unfortunately, I had an epiphany! I didn't speak Spanish. What was I going to do? I didn't care. I would draw pictures if I had to, I was not letting this woman out of my sight. I approached and discovered that she had a limited English vocabulary. When I heard her voice it was as if the sky opened and a ray of sunshine enveloped us.
As you can imagine, we fell in love and two years later, married. This was back in the late 80's and the US Army was getting ready to give Panamanian General Manuel Noriega a spanking. So the Army evacuated all family members out of the country to the US. I sent my new, pregnant wife back to stay with my family and wait for me to do my duty. My family accepted her with open arms and a few months later, I followed her to my home.
Going Home...
I grew up in Flint, Michigan. A predominately African American city an hour north of Detroit. As a kid, I can remember racism and prejudices between the black and white communities. There were fights. I can remember getting beaten for just being the white guy. As I returned from serving overseas I learned a hard real lesson about life. That it is not your skin that is important, it is your character, your values, your ethics. When I arrived home, I visited friends and family and a few commented on my new wife's "tan". Her skin, naturally brown with dark eyes and jet black hair. There were no negative comments, but I did sense that a few of the guys I grew up with felt "uncomfortable" that I didn't marry a "white woman", and even more so since she was a foreigner. I was numb to any other eyes or words but the woman I couldn't stand to be away from. Yeah, Yeah, I had it real bad, I know.
The Moral Of The Story...
The point I am trying to get at with this story is this. I have been with this woman for 13 years of my life and not ONCE has anybody ever made a comment to my face negative or positive, about her and me not being the same race, color, or culture. Until recently. Somebody looked at me, my wife, and my now 10 year old son and made this comment: "Has it been difficult for you being in an Interracial marriage." It stunned me. I laughed and answered, what do you mean, I am not in an interracial marriage. I then commenced to argue with this person over this very topic. I reasoned that I never, not for a second, gave a damn where she was from, what color her skin was, what language she spoke, what she ate, how she danced, NONE OF IT! And I know she never once thought twice about me being different either. All I knew is that when she didn't understand I love you in English, I knew I had to learn Spanish to tell her, and I did. We have co-existed for 13 years and shared something that some people go there entire life and don't figure out. That love really is color blind. And "Interracial" is a word used by people that will never know that fact. Oh, one more thing. One day my son asked me about his ethnicity. He wanted to know if he was Hispanic, Caucasian, or what. I told him that he is an AMERICAN!!! And being an American means you have no skin color, and judge Americans by their spirits, not by their flesh suits my son.
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trphilip
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Location: Chicago, Illinois
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GOD BLESS AMERICA
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