6. Amina Sinclair #4
“Yes, he’s white. I can see it in your eyes that you’re about to talk shit, so let me stop you while you’re ahead.
I liked Jacob for who he was. His ethnicity is the part that everybody wants to focus on, but that wasn’t the case here.
I liked him because he was respectful towards me.
He was funny. Very charismatic. He lost his father when he was five years old to cancer, so in a sense, we were able to bond off that,” I shared with him, but Gemini had this look in his eyes as if he still wasn’t buying it, and he wasn’t trying to hear shit that I was saying.
“That’s your type though? You typically go for white dudes?” he wanted to know.
Somehow, this entire conversation shifted. He went from wanting to know how Jacob and I met, to now asking what my type was.
“Are you asking me if he was the first white dude that I’ve ever been with, or are you asking me if I exclusively only date white men?” I asked, picking apart his question to really see what he was getting at.
“Shit, whichever one comes with an answer,” he shot, reaching over for another pan, so that he could start pouring the rice into the pan since it was finished.
“I don’t have a type. I’ve dated black men.
Jacob is the first white man that I’ve dated.
Before Jacob, I was dealing with a Nigerian man, but that didn’t last that long.
So, to answer your question, I don’t really have a racial preference.
I haven’t dated that many guys, but the ones that I have, if you line them up, literally none of them look the same.
They come from different backgrounds. They have different careers.
I don’t have some crazy list of physical traits that a man must have in order for me to give them a chance,” I shared, and he nodded, as if he understood where I was coming from.
“So, when it comes to giving a dude a chance, and who you chose to entertain, what you look for then?” he asked. That was a good question.
“I look at character. I want to know how you treat people. I need someone that’s kind to me.
I crave an intelligent man. I want to learn from you.
I want to be able to see things from your perspective even if I don’t agree with it.
If you have family, I want to see how you treat your family.
I pay close attention to the way a man treats his mother, or his sisters if he has any,” I responded.
Gemini filled the pan with rice, and I watched him as he placed two filet mignon steaks on the grill, and on the other side, he placed the shrimp.
From where I was sitting, the food smelled delicious.
The wine that I had in my hands was good, and we were having a good conversation.
He was asking good questions. I loved good, intelligent conversation.
“Let me ask you something else. That same question, but on a deeper level. Race matters and it’s important to you, right?” he wanted to know.
“It’s very important,” I was quick in my response, following him, ready to see where he was going with this.
“When it comes to dating outside your race, specifically when it comes to a white man, what are the values that are important to you then? You said that you look at character. Explain how you find good character in a white man?” he asked, and I knew what he was getting at asking me this.
I was ready for that question. I loved a good debate probably just as much as he did.
“You answered the question pretty much. If I’m going to deal with a white man, then I need him to understand that race matters and it’s important.
He must understand that my black history matters.
He must understand that slavery actually happened.
Our ancestors were beaten and worked on a field like dogs.
He needs to understand that that wasn’t just something that was put in a textbook and put on TV screens for our entertainment.
Understand that racism still exists. Black and white people do not share the same experiences,” I was firm in my response.
History has always been one of my favorite courses.
Gemini and I could sit out here and talk about this until the wee hours of the morning.
“And what if you meet a white man, and he don’t agree with none of that shit?” he asked, and I chuckled. I chuckled because it was such an easy answer.
“Simple. We don’t need to be dating,” I said, and this time, it was his turn to chuckle.
“What? What’s funny?” I wanted to know.
“I don’t even have to make my closing argument with you anymore, love. You already made it for me,” he said.
I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Gemini picked up the cooking towel, draped it against his shoulder, and he stepped back a little bit from the Blackstone. With the glass of wine in his hands, he looked at me, prepared to enlighten me with what the hell he was talking about.
“You just said that if you date a white man, and he doesn’t understand your experiences as a black woman, if he can’t get with our history and the shit that our ancestors went through, if he can’t open his eyes and see that racism still exists, then ya’ll don’t need to be dating, correct? ” he asked.
“Correct,” I responded, still trying to follow where he was going with this.
I wanted to be guarded. I wanted to be fully prepared to snap on him if he said something that I didn’t agree with or like, but God, when he brought that wine glass to his lips, and he took a sip, he was making me fold.
He was softening me up. I know that it was something so simple, and bare minimum, but it was attractive as hell!
“Knowing this, why would I volunteer to put myself in a situation where it’ll be a quick gamble on if they even get it or not. A black woman already understands our history. We share that. Our ancestors went through the same shit—”
“Oh, Gemini please! I’m following you and I’m going to allow you to finish with your point, but can we not sit here and act like all black people think the same?” I asked.
“That’s not what I said,” he was backtracking now, so I laughed, while fixing my position in the chair.
“Oh, but you implied it. You said that a black woman would automatically share our history and understand what our ancestors went through. That’s not true.
There are literally so many black people walking around today that still believe that racism isn’t an issue.
Because it’s never happened to them. All I know is private school, Gemini.
The conversations that I can tell you that I’ve had from black people that look just like me.
The ones that believe that our history is exaggerated,” I concluded my argument, and he laughed.
“Shit, that’s just a minority,” he said.
“Whether it is just a minority, my point still stands. All skin folk ain’t kin folk,” I repeated a line that my father used to say all the time.
“Yeah, yeah. You can say all of that, but my point still stands. I’d rather give my time to someone that already speaks the same language as I do, rather than me trying to teach it to them, in hopes that they’ll sympathize with my ancestors.
Give me a black woman any day,” he went on, stepping closer to the Blackstone.
Like he was so full of shit, I rolled my eyes at him.
“I don’t believe you. Don’t let this compliment make you too cocky, but you are an attractive guy. You’re 35 years old. You mean to tell me that you have never dated outside your race?” I asked.
“Man, I put that shit on my mama that I never dealt with anyone other than a black woman. I been in love with chocolate since I was a baby,” he went on.
“Usually when dudes are younger, they go through a hoe phase, and will sleep with anything walking,” I let him know.
“I had a hoe phase, but it was still with black women. You not going to tie me up and catch me in a lie, love. I have homeboys that I can call and they will run down my line up to you. I only like to deal with black women. I love everything about a black woman. The way they talk. The way they move through life, carrying themselves. The hairstyles. The confidence. The way a black woman can code switch. Talk that shit, but when she gets in certain rooms, she knows how to adjust and turn that shit off,” he went on. I was moved by his words.
“You gotta understand where I went to school for college, love. I spent four years in college, surrounded by nothing but beautiful, educated black women. Black women that had confidence like a motha fucka. Black women will walk in a room and demand the fuckin attention of everyone in there. She don’t even gotta be loud with her shit.
She gone step in that room with grace. That’ll forever be my preference,” he finished.
I smiled at that. I respected it. Hey, as a black woman, I loved to hear him preach that.
“The woman that you’re describing. What does she look like?” I was curious to know the answer to that question. He smiled after I asked that question.
“Just like you just told me two minutes ago… don’t let this compliment make you too cocky, but you. Shit, she looks like you,” when he said that to me, I swear I could have died.
I wasn’t sure if it was the wine that was making me hot, or if it had anything to do with his words.
Hell, it could have been the fact that I wasn’t sitting that far away from the griddle, either.
All I know is that my head started spinning a little bit when he said that, and I had the sudden urge to fan myself.
“Educated. Can talk shit when she needs to. Opinionated. Challenge me when she feels like I’m saying off the wall stuff. Shit, and black,” he had to throw that in.
I didn’t have anything else to say after that. His words made me completely mute. I don’t even think that he was flirting with me to be honest. I just think that he was referring to all the traits that I had and letting it be known that that’s typically what he went after.