Othello and Desdemona in Venice, 1850, oil on ...

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I recently learned that I am in an interracial marriage.  And on top of that, I’ve got a little interracial half-Indian, half-German baby.  (See what happens when winter comes and you need to stay warm at night?)

When I was single, I never really thought about what my other half (other half = Steph) would look like.  I just hoped that my future partner would have the usual things that one looks for in a possible match:  likes long walks on the beach, enjoys rubbing my feet, great at cooking for me, excellent at fixing old trucks, easy to manipulate going, love of laundry the great outdoors…that sort of thing.  It’s hard enough finding someone to spend the rest of your life with, let alone finding someone that is of the same color and ancestry.  So, Steph and I met and fell in love…you know, kind of like Othello and Desdemona, kind of.  Okay, not really, but imagine a colored guy meeting an uncolored girl and falling in love.  That was us.

I came across an article the other day that got me thinking.  Had I lived in the U.S. about 50 years ago, some states wouldn’t allow me to marry Steph.  (In case you didn’t read the ‘About Us’ page, Steph’s a cracker and I’m a dot head.)  It wasn’t until 1967 that interracial marriage was allowed by the Supreme Court.  Therefore, if we were in 1967, I would be blogging about something else, like segregated white and colored water fountains and what the water tasted like from each.

Ok, so we’re here and now and we have a biracial baby.  (I don’t ever really think about it until Steph and I get the stares…you know, the look that says “Wow, I didn’t know it was genetically possible for colored people and white people to make babies.  Aren’t they different species?”)  I have hope that the Worm doesn’t face the ridicule and ignorance still festering in some portions of society.  I hope that the Worm doesn’t have to hear the racial slurs that I heard growing up in an ignorant, backwards part of the country.   I hope that he doesn’t have to be ashamed that he’s ‘different’ looking than other kids.  And as a shout-out to Martin Luther King Jr., I hope that the Worm “will one day live in a nation where he will not be judged by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character.”  (I also have hope that Gavin’s basketball skills will pay our bills speak for themselves one day.)

Thank you MLK Jr. for giving your life to show us something greater than our fears, our humanity.  (I know it was a few days ago people, but I took the day off.  If you’re uptight about it, pretend I wrote this post for next MLK day.)

One day, we will all be beige.

Below is the article that I was reading at the time…

http://shine.yahoo.com/love-sex/tender-photos-unearthed-turbulent-time-235100316.html

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