cream in my coffee
I've been gabbing lately with my nouveau gal-pal/sex-blogger Elle over at Sex and the Ivy, whom has taken on the Sisyphean task of playing Asian Ivy League yenta for her Harvard girlfriends. At the end of her schpiel for each Crimson co-ed, she implores the rest of us to describe our own tastes in men. We had privately griped about our success (or lack thereof) with Ivy boys, so when she ended with:
"Let’s not get PC here. Be honest. If you don’t dig the white ones, ditto (ahem, Jess). Ready, set, go."
I smiled to myself. Is my dating history that transparent? I thought. Sad story is, it is. Time to unpack.
A laundry list of my laddy loves:
- A Chinese cyberpunk beau
- A Mexican Catholic sweetheart
- A supa-FOB Indian
- A nice Jewish boy
But of course, no one whose last name ends in Smythe or Carbunkle or something more subtle, like Whitelyle McCrackerton the Third. When I ran this laundry list by a male acquaintance of mine, his response cut to the chase:
"Your dating history looks like a United Colors of Benneton ad!"
Question's this: I'm(clearly) an open-minded girl, a progressive libertarian whom has crusaded for gay rights and wants to bring on a sex revolution. WASP-phobic? Me? Is this some sort of internalized affirmative action on my part, some subconscious PC-dom rearing its reverse racist head? Jesse Jackson would be so proud.
It could be guilt -- the whole bi-ethnic complex I've got going on. See, I know I look whiter than a ham and mayonnaise buffet at an Episcopal church picnic, but the truth is I'm half-Cuban. Yet you wouldn't know that from visiting my mother's house, where the garage is rife with my step-father's auto parts, Texas A&M flag, and a 1983 Harley Davidson lying akimbo alongside our all-American barbecue grill. I am half Cuban, but because of the color of my skin in a 95% Hispanic-populated section of South Texas, I grew up nicknamed "Casper," "Bollio" (white bread), "Gringa." "You can't be Cuban," little ol' Southern ladies will hiss, "Look at you!" As if Hispanic denoted skin tone; as if blondes can't be biracial. Perhaps having a brown beau on my arm reassures myself that I have that little bit of ethnic in me; that I'm not really like the rest of the white trash that populates the sleepy fishing town I'm from? I dunno.
There's also this strange (and prejudiced, no doubt) fear I have that an upper-crusty WASP just wouldn't get the vagaries of my bizarre family. I think of my Honduran half-sister's family; their plantain-and-mango orchard in the back of the house, their hog roasts, their gambling by the pier, and I cringe all My Big Fat Greek Wedding style when I think of a John Corbett look-a-like wincing at a plate of tripas and barbacoa. But this isn't fair of me. Who am I to say that John Corbett look-a-like wouldn't feel right at home putting carnitas on the grill? It's certainly not my prerogative.
Or maybe I'm beating myself up about this. Truth is, I think caramel skin and beguiling brown eyes on a boy is just... yummy. Warm. Delectable. My romantic interest in Jerry Maguire wasn't Tom-the-midget, but his show-me-the-money comrade, Cuba Gooding Jr. There is something exciting and sexy and powerful in tangling limbs to observe the contrast, making patterns on patterns on skin. Exciting. Hot.
Yet I'm always repulsed by, say, the acquaintances I know who will "only" date Asian girls. So how am I better? Beats me.
I guess my point is I'm stuck in a bit of a fixed action pattern. I'm choosing, at least unconsciously, who I'm attracted to, and harbor a knee-jerk reaction against rubio Romeos. Is it worth fixing? Time to tell.
Comments
Commenting is closed for this article.
Anne Elizabeth, Oct 19, 19:14:
That is the most adorable picture, Jessica !!!
And you seriously carcked me up about the ‘Whitelyle McCrackerton the third’ thing !
Hee-hee, snicker !
You date whoever makes your heart happy, Girl, and that’s ALL that matters !
Happy Thursday !
Sincerely,
Anne Elizabeth
Anne Elizabeth, Oct 19, 19:15:
oops, typo.
cracked
Sabrina, Oct 19, 22:40:
That “Whitelyle McCrackerton” line made me do a spit take. Great post.
I’m mixed, but look Irish, and I’m dating a half-Filipino guy right now who is very Southern. That alone could make for hours of analytical fun. I’m “stealth ethnic” and he’s the Asian Redneck… does that sound like a sitcom?
Maybe you haven’t met a white guy who has the traits you’re looking for outside of race. Or maybe you’ve just got a strong aesthetic preference. Sure it’ll cause a little liberal guilt, but what’s life without liberal guilt?
Thanks for the link, by the way. I’ve added you to my blogroll as well.
glassplastic, Oct 20, 04:37:
In the town I grew up in, until recently, the only Spanish people were my many relatives. Which instilled a strange fear that if I ever dated a Spanish girl, I’d find out she was related. This of course went away when I left the South and moved to the big, colorful, isolated-from-family Philly.
necmergitur, Oct 20, 11:49:
“Truth is, I think caramel skin and beguiling brown eyes on a boy is just… yummy. Warm. Delectable”
I love disguised compliments, honey.