I still believe that I had made the right decision. At first, it haunted me, gave me weird feelings.It made my parents disown me. However, when I look back, I would have handled the matter same if it were to happen now. All this was because of Roy.
It was in 1958 when interracial marriage was frowned upon; or flatly illegal in this country. I had joined university a naïve love deprived white girl. Then I accidentally met him. I still feel the same excitement I felt when we first met. It was purely accidental. But Roy was irresistible. Before then, tall dark and handsome was just an ordinary phrase to me. Roy gave it a whole new meaning. He could not be described precisely as tall although he was a couple of inches taller than an average man. He was black because that was his race but his skin was chocolate. He had slightly large eyes that people described as penetrating. Whenever he looked at someone, the person felt Roy’s stare pierce their soul. Perhaps it was just a feeling, but it was quite real, almost tangible.
He spotted afro hairstyle that was not common at that time; perfectly kept. Whenever he smiled, he would display a set of white teeth which, set against his chocolate face, looked like a mirage. My mind decided he was mine and it did not take long before his soul made the same decision. The gods of love brought us together in the form of group work.
A lecturer whose name I cannot probably remember well grouped us to carry out some class task in pairs.We carried out the discussion, little class work, more personal conversation. At the end of it, I was convinced I had found the perfect man. Nothing could sway my spirit that human and perfection cannot exist side by side. As expected, he invited me for a date that evening.
We settled for some cheap restaurant on the outskirts of the city partially because we were students and partially broke but majorly because we wanted a quiet place to ourselves. Ordinarily, I could have termed it an awkward date because he spoke little but at that time, his mere presence was enough for me; he being there for me was more than enough for my heart. We exchanged little pleasantries, ate a cheap but decent meal. We then topped it up with a few glasses of wine before we departed to his place.
Later on, as I lay by his side that night, I implored him to tell me what he thought of our future. “Do you think this will work out?” I gently asked him. I am glad it was dark so I could not meet his penetrative eyes. He was silent for a long time. I almost thought he had not heard me. I was almost repeating the question when he responded. He was always confident. Maybe too sure of himself, but is that not how men are brought up to be? “Well, what do you think?” there he was, challenging me, testing my loyalty, my love for him. “The only thing I have is hope and a little trust,” I answered, “I hope everything will work out and trust that all will be well.”
He did not speak again for some time then he rolled and faced the ceiling. “My grandfather was fond of a saying about letting the river take its course. I have grown up to like it a lot. It is the guiding principle of my life. I always let some things work out their way. If they are destined to be so shall they, if not all efforts put into it will be fruitless it will not change anything.” I knew he was handsome, but I was discovering his other trait, he was philosophical too.
With that, we knew we were bound for life. We would overcome the biggest impediment to our relationship; the racial line. We did not bother hiding our relationship. We had prepared ourselves for everything. It did not take long before my friends confronted me. I had expected it all along. First, they made subtle reference, and then they advised, argued, beseeched finally they threatened me but I was not moved. This was my life, and nobody was going to decide for me who was good for me or not.
The most significant test was on the way unknowingly. I got pregnant with Roy.I broke the news to him, and once again he proved to be a real man; he accepted and arranged for the celebration of the event. Of course, the party was for only him and me. The most laborious task was to break the news to my parents. They were white conservative parents. How was I to explain that I was pregnant while I was still in school, before marriage and the father of the unborn child was a person of color?
I was in a dilemma as anybody in their early twenties with overprotective, extremely religious and traditionalist parents can be. I could not imagine how my parents would react to the news. Their firstborn daughter got pregnant in university with a Blackman? I was braced for the worst, but that was little in comparison to what awaited me. I consoled myself using Troy’s logic; let the river take its course. Whatever was to happen, I would meet it and solve it. After all, my forefathers many years ago had warned against crossing a bridge before reaching it.
I called my mother on a payphone and broke the news. We conversed for long even though she apparently was not pleased. Which mother would be pleased with such an offspring? She set a date when I would go home visiting and come along with my fiancé. I did not even hint that I was dating a black person. I wanted it to be a surprise. I told Roy of the same visit but never told him the parents were unaware of his race. It was a deliberate error of omission, surprise on both sides. Roy was excited because he thought my parents had accepted him if only he knew.
That Saturday, I remember it quite well. It is the day that shaped my destiny. It set me out as a determined person with principles in life. It was the weekend I learned the value of situational ethics. Unlike the teachings I had received as a child about certain things being strictly right or wrong, I learned that wrong or right depends on the position of your stand and the angle at which you look at a problem. Roy dressed in his blue suit that I liked. It gave him a serene appearance; true reflection of what he was. We left the university at 8 in the morning and traveled for two hours since the college was not far from our home.
The disgust was written all over the faces of my parents when they saw us. It did not need any interpretation; it was more precise than the summer sky. Roy and I bore it courageously. My father never played with words, always straight to the point. When we had all settled in the living room, he burst out angrily. “What shame is this that you have brought to us? Couldn’t you wait to finish school first or at least get a better man?” I was not taking it kindly either. Roy was my man and nobody; not even my parents were going to trash him in my presence. I burst out angrily and leashed a long reply about human equality and all. Sir William Wilberforce could have been proud of me. Nonetheless, I was in somebody’s compound and was reminded of the fact.
From that day, I was not my parents’ child anymore. Neither was I welcome in their compound. We trouped out with Roy. Ironically, he me consoled all the way until we reached the campus. We were now on our own. He did not seem scared of that fact, the ever bold and confident Roy.
We settled down and cohabited as we went through school. In the end, we graduated and joined the corporate world. Luck was on our side. We landed on good jobs and were quite successful. I never forgot what my parents did although we never communicated all those years. I look back, and I am proud I made a firm stand. I never betrayed somebody who loved and loves me. I still believe love is above race; a belief that that makes me happy person giving me a fulfilling life
Works Cited
Bierce, Ambrose. An Occurrence At Owl Creek. The Francisco Examiner, (1890)
Crane, Stephen. A Dark Brown Dog. Dodo Press, (1901).
Henry, O.The Gift of the Magi. Simon "Schuster, (1905).
