On Being Black, Loving White, and the Complexities of Proving Your Blackness

Can you be pro-Black and date a white person?

This question recently popped up on Facebook. It was posted by a Black person. A friend of mine, who knew I would have something to say about this, tagged me in it. I couldn't respond to the post itself because it wasn't open to public comments. So I decided I'm going to address this real quick on my website and social media channels because it's a question I've been asked a lot over the years, being married to a white woman. I figured it was time to write up an answer. I figure I can just give people a QR code to access this blog post or something in the future, so I can keep it movin' because, frankly, I've got sh-- to do. There's a new season of The Masked Singer about to start tonight, a new episode of Only Murders in the Building I haven't watched yet, and Malignant is sittin' on HBO Max taunting me while I try to write podcast material and draw comics. And the case of LaCroix in my kitchen ain't gonna drink itself so...yeah. I’ve got. Sh—. To do.

Let's get to it then, shall we?

So, the question again: Can you be pro-Black and date a white person?

The answer? YES.

Y-E-S - YES.

Hell, you can be married to a white person and be pro-Black. I would know!

Wait. Wait a minute. Y'all…y’all do realize that being with a white person doesn't suddenly grant a Black person immunity from racism, right? That we aren’t magically “in” now so we can turn away from everything Black and live a “white” existence? It doesn't negate my experiences growing up as a poor Black kid with hard-working parents trying to make ends meet on the eastside of Detroit. It didn't move me into another tax bracket or allow me some secret white-adjacent privilege. And it has never stopped me from fighting for Black people everywhere in every space. Anyone who knows me knows that I go hard in the paint on white supremacy, racism, and oppression. I don't play. My wife and I have honest conversations about race, white supremacy, and inequity that don't pull punches like every damn day. I love her, but when it comes to these issues, there are no baby gloves. And we have mutual love and respect between us because of this. She knows that she doesn't get preferential treatment for being my chosen person. And I know I'm not the only Black person in a relationship with a white person who had the same kind of transparency and realness in their relationships.

Let me guess: some of y'all think that if a Black person is willing to be with a white person, they will likely regularly turn their back on Black people, Black needs, and Black causes? Y’all think that the majority of Black people in relationships with white people are out here Uncle Tom’ing it up?

C’mon, y’all. Really?

To even think that a Black person being with a white person equates to them automatically being or becoming anti-Black is a ridiculous notion. It’s a notion ignited by a few Black folx here and there over the centuries who have turned their backs on Black folx after achieving some fraction of what is viewed as "white success," including having a white person as their arm candy to validate said success (note: arm candy has no gender). You're a Black person using a worn-out Black stereotype against other Black people? Not a good look. Those actions harm all Black people, yourself included.

Are there Black people who have turned their backs on other Black people once they’ve been “accepted” by the white world? Of course, there are. There always will be. There’s a lot of self-hatred and a need for acceptance by those with positionality and power that comes with seeking white acceptance as a form of validation. Is it hard being a Black person married to or in a committed relationship with a white person? Of course. I see the side-eyes. I’ve heard the clichés. I’ve watched Black people change how they talk to me and react to me when they find out my spouse is white. There will always be scrutiny and a lack of trust in the Black community surrounding Black/white relationships and “how Black” a Black person is “allowed to be” in those relationships. I understand that for a lot of Black people I will be basically proving that I’m not the enemy in perpetuity. Is it right? No, it isn’t. Having to always prove my credibility as a Black person to other Black people, to prove that I’m not the “wrong kind of Black person,” is a pain in the ass. But I get where it’s coming from. I understand the underlying hurt and pain of it all. And I still get up every morning and fight for Black people everywhere in every space. It’s not to prove a point. It’s because I love my people.

I just also happen to love a white person.

Love is love, y’all. We love who we love, and love often transcends race and intersectional identities. I can’t help that the universe allowed me to find love with a person who ain’t melanated. That’s just the way things happened. Love is like that. I regret nothing about my relationship with my wife. I have learned so much about white people and systems of whiteness from and alongside my spouse. I am appreciative of those insights because for me they amplified how much I love and want to fight for Black people. My loving a white person does not take away from or diminish my love of being Black and my love for Black people, Black culture, and Black communities. My actions support these words.

So, the answer is yes. And with that yes, I leave you with a question, Black people: Can you be pro-Black and be homophobic, transphobic, and ableist?

Get back to me when you’re ready to answer that question because you can’t and shouldn’t call my Blackness and pro-Blackness into question without calling in your own.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’mma go watch Selena Gomez, Steve Martin, and Martin Short solve some murders in their building.