Dating american men experiences
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Accepting that my seemingly personal decisions regarding who will occupy my company or my body, is a high task.One night, a date and I decided to hit a local New Jersey bar.As we approached the secured entrance, a white couple was also entering, walking only steps behind us. Ds, the white security guard informed us that we could not enter, as my date was violating the dress code; mere seconds later the white couple reached the door and was promptly let in – with the guy outfitted in the same ensemble.I knew that the Access Denied Pass did not extend to me – when I was in the “right” company, so shame on me for surrounding myself with such company, right? I still remember how I felt when I first dated a white man.
I was welcomed into any space and important; we didn’t need to dress a certain way to prove our membership. The burden had been lifted; we wouldn’t get turned away at the door, in fact, we always skipped the line. I implicitly signaled to whites that I was mainstream, that I shared their middle-class values, that I was civilized – that I wasn’t angry, but safe and approachable. I realized I could choose whether or not my sons looked like Trayvon Martin, or my daughters like Marissa Alexander. The ease I was afforded became mitigated by the fact that my otherness amplified in increasingly white situations; while part of self-identification lies in perception, a portion rests in reality.
Over time I’ve found that the easiest way to change my ethnicity – change the way people treat me – is to change my company.
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