In the process of downloading music to our new computer, I've become very emotional the past few days. Well, okay, PMS is contributing, but the music is the major factor! It is, I swear. I've had so much fun getting all the music that I love listening to...and for those of you who know me well, you know that I love love-songs. I am addicted to them! Needless to say, there has been a lot of downloading of lots of slow, emotional, painful, beautiful songs. And it reminds me of driving my car, listening to KYXY love songs in San Diego, or the equivalent in New York (106.7). And I love it.
I've also listened to some songs that I haven't listened to in a long while...and it reminds me how much I like them. Love them, actually. Some of my favorite highlights so far are: (1) The Sweetest Thing - Sade, (2) Just Once - James Ingram, (3) Beautiful Disaster - Randi Driscoll, (4) I Just Want To Be (Your Everything) - Andy Gibb (which, by the way, was the first concert I ever went to when I was 5 years old...Andy Gibb...with my mom, her friend, and my sister), (5) Never Again - Justin Timberlake, (6) Collide - Howie Day, (7) 100 Ways - James Ingram, (8) The Promise - Tracy Chapman....silly of me to list these, because now I want to list the 100 others I am thinking of too.
And then there is "What Matters" by Randi Driscoll. Randi Driscoll has two albums out -- one that she basically produced herself, and the other that was recently released by an independent record label. She has an amazing voice, and many are surprised that she has never been picked up by a major label. In any event, she wrote this song in response to the Matthew Shepherd killing - and proceeds of the song go to a charity set up in honor of Matthew Shepherd (I hope I am not getting his name wrong). It asks, simply, does it matter who each of us love?
When I was a freshmen in college, I briefly dated a guy named Scott who was (is) black. At the time, of course, my parents were 3000 miles away and couldn't just get what was going on in my love life by observation, as they had during high school. When I told my parents about him - I think they gathered that he was black, I am not sure I told them directly. My dad simply asked me, "So, is he nice to you?" I said yes, and he said that was all that mattered to him. It wasn't all that mattered - it bothered him, I would later find out - but that was the only thing he wanted to matter to him. Whether his daughter was being treated well.
The conversation didn't really every come up again. My other boyfriends/love interests/crushes, both before and after Scott, were white for the most part -- certainly any of those that I got into a real relationship with. Then I met Derek. And again, when my dad met Derek, he only said he cared that Derek treated me well. Then he got to know Derek - and over time, I suppose, that really did become all my dad cared about.
Years into my relationship with Derek, my dad said to me that I've taught him so many things. I forced him to open his mind in ways he never thought he would. Mind you, I didn't know I was doing this. He never said one negative thing to me about any guy I dated - including Scott or Derek. I was just falling in love with guys that were nice, funny, kind, and good looking (and, yes, the occasional a**hole). Derek was no different than Julius when I was 14 or Cameron when I was 17 or Kurt when I was 21 or John when I was 23-- he was just black, they were white. My dad said that even though he felt certain negative things about his daughter being in an inter-racial relationship, he didn't want to feel those things. So he forced himself to grow up, to open his mind. And then as he got to know Derek, he realized (his words) that he couldn't ask for someone better for his daughter. Okay, maybe Derek could have been a millionaire, but we'll forgive him that. But from my dad's perspective -- and mind you, I am my dad's little girl -- Derek treats me like a princess. And on top of that, he is just really nice to everyone else too. My dad always knew what mattered, and he worked at adopting beliefs he knew were right. For that, I admire him. And I appreciate that he fought against the beliefs that surronded him, beliefs that maybe others of his generation wouldn't have questioned. I appreciate that he never let me know anything but what did really matter. I appreciate that my grandparents - both sides - raised my parents to be as open minded as they are and taught them to care about what does matter - treating people well.
In 1967, when Derek was two years old, it was illegal in some states for people of different races to marry. It was illegal for Derek and I to get married. Illegal for my friend Tom (of Korean decent) to marry Kelly (who is white). It was illegal for a Mexican-American to marry someone who was white. The only person who could marry someone white was someone else who fits that ill-defined but ever important defintion of "white." In 1967, the Supreme Court ruled that such prohibitions on marriage were unconstitutional. I wonder how we can possibly be having this same debate today. Yes, denying the right of marriage to people based on their skin color, their sexual orientation, their economic class, their nationality -- it is unconstitutional. Is it so hard for us to figure this out?
None of my friends, but some random acquaintances (or cousins!) have asked me, "What is it like dating a black man?" Inside, I roll my eyes in disgust and curse at their ignorance, while, in reality, I control my tongue and say "I only know what it is like to date nice guys. Derek's one of them." Then I remind myself when I am thinking how ridiculous these people are that even Oprah -- yes, Oprah -- lowered her special on "inter-racial couples" to asking quesstions like whether the sex was different, what it was like to eat soul food, and basically the "what is it like" question in diffferent forms. Yes, we have our differences - we have different backgrounds. Different families. Different habits. Different ideas. Different desires, different tolerances, different thresholds for pain, intimacy, annoyance, noise, emotion. Sounds like pretty much every couple you know, huh? My marriage is unique like every couple's is unique, and has the same commonalities (is that a word? i want it to be) as other couples' relationships.
A friend of mine from college, who is gay and lives in LA, was visiting NY a couple months ago. We all went to dinner, and he was telling us (Derek and I) about a date he went on with a guy here in New York. He was talking about the first date jitters, the nerves, the butterflies in his stomach. He was debating what his next steps should be - should he call? Should he wait for the call? He was surprised at how much he liked (likes) the guy. Derek and I gave easy advice -- call him! -- but we realized it was easier said than done. We couldn't really relate. Not because we aren't gay -- because we have been fricking together since 1997. We haven't been at the beginning of a relationship since October of 1997! On our walk home, when we thought back to 9 years ago -- we remembered those feelings so vividly. In fact, Derek did go through the debate, "Should I call her? Should I wait for her to call?" He debated and couldn't reach a decision, so he called me and hung up when I answered!!! (Yes, he did, and I totally knew it was him at the time, and I thought it was cute and vulnerable. But annoying:)).
So that is all why this downloading all my favorite songs is very tiring and emotional. I am know trying to find "Sometimes When We Touch" by Dan Hill. How can that song not be on iTunes?? I need to go focus my search....
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I really, really liked reading this entry. I remember when my sister (gasp!) dated a boy who was black in the 8th grade, my Dad (who was raised in the South and was somewhat racist) was all pissy about it, and my mom (who prides herself on being openminded and accepted) said that she only had problems with it "because it is so hard to be in an interracial relationship, and she didn't want my sister to have to deal with it". You know, for those serious 8th grade relationships. I vividly remember my sister being so grateful to me because, even though we couldn't STAND each other at that point in our lives, I went on this crusade to educate my parents about how close-minded they were being and to just leave my sister and her boyfriend the hell alone.
And I have not had the first date jitters since November of 1995!! sigh.
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