The Swirl World

Celebrating and Elevating Black Women - mind, body, soul and spirit!


From the Mailbag – I Want to Know How to Date Out!

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MAILBAG

I receive emails from people around the globe.

Fans write to express how much they enjoy the blog; foes, not so much. 

Whether you love it or you hate it, I enjoy hearing from you.

Today’s post (edited to protect the writer’s anonymity) features a question I often receive:

Hey Michelle, how are you?….I’m writing because I recently broke up with my on & off again boyfriend of 8 yrs (long story..lol) I love your site because I have recently become open minded to dating outside of my race but I’m nervous and not really sure what to do since I’ve been kinda off the market for some time. I was looking thru the pics on your Facebook page and even liking some of them. Now my friends are asking me why!  I guess I’m just looking for some advise or words to get me out there to explore. I know I’m probably rambling & not making sense but I guess I just need to talk to someone like minded….hope to hear from ya soon.

This was my response:

Hi there, and thanks for writing! 

The first thing I would recommend is that you get yourself a copy of the book Swirling by Christelyn D. Karazin and Janice Roshalle Littlejohn (it’s on Amazon and at Barnes & Noble). The book contains tons of GREAT tips and covers the main tenets of IR dating from start to finish – it even lists the parts of the country that are the most open.

 

I have to tell you to be prepared for the backlash. One of the things I’ve observed in my studies is that for some strange reason, Black Women have been saddled with “maintaining the race,” and labeled as being a “race traitor” when they decide to date out – yet Black men date/marry out at a rate that is over 2 to 1 of the rate of Black women! It seems to be ok for THEM to do it but not us – go figure. Statistics also show that Black women have the lowest rates of interracial marriage. You have to really decide in your mind that this is YOUR life and YOUR choice, and ultimately your FIRST loyalties are to God and yourself.

Get Rid of Your Negativity

Don’t allow anyone’s negativity to hold you back. What a lot of Black women don’t realize is that while they are waiting/looking/checking for “Nothing But a Black Man” (NBABM), so are THOUSANDS of OTHER Black women – realistically speaking, how many Black men do you think there are to go around??? And not only that, many of the “good” Black men are not checking for Black women – they’re interested in women of other races. This reduces the pool of available Black men even further. If you’re in that NBABM mindset, the numerical odds are that you will either (1) wind up alone, or (2) wind up sharing a man. Men of other races outnumber Black men, which gives you ample more men to choose from if you just OPEN your mind and EXPAND your options. You don’t need EVERY quality non-Black man to like/want you – guess what? You only need ONE.

Shake Everyone Else’s Negativity

Don’t allow the negative feelings friends/relatives to hold you back, either. Women really do tend to sometimes have that “crab in a bucket” mentality. They’re alone, and (1) afraid to reach out to other races, or (2) either trying to “sister soldier” for Black men who are paying them no attention. Many of them will take a “How dare you” approach, because in reality you are leaving them behind. Why should ALL of you be alone??? Let them call you a sell out if they want to. When you think about it, what do you really want? You want a good man who shares many of your values, and will love you for you. Well, men like that come in more than one color. And for the women who say, “I want a Black man because he can understand/share my struggle,” my response is this: Are you SO shallow that a man of only ONE ethnicity can relate to you??? Really?? If a non-Black man doesn’t know your struggle, how ‘bout you educate him – and be educated by him in return? What’s wrong with that?

The Opportunity Has Probably Already Presented Itself!

With that being said, I’ll bet if you think about it, you’ve already been “hit on” by men of other races. Please know that they often tend to be much more subtle in their approach than Black men. Many White men are a bit hesitant/reluctant to step to a Black woman, not because they’re not interested, but rather because they’re not sure how she will receive their advances. Unfortunately, because of some of the reasons I listed above, many Black women react in strongly negative ways to White men’s advances, so it makes non-Black men somewhat timid. Plus, they tend to not be as aggressive and “in your face” as Black men are (think about it; a lot of Black men tend to think they have a RIGHT to approach you, and also think that you should automatically be responsive. SMH).

Why You Need to Make it a Great Experience – For Both of You

If a White man (or other non-Black man) compliments you, attempts to strike up a conversation with you, etc., most of the time it’s because he’s interested. Even if you’re not interested (for whatever reason), please still be nice, because you don’t want to spoil it for the next Black woman he wants to approach. Leave him with the thought and impression that Black women are friendly and approachable, not hateful and mean. Not only will it help him, it will also help to crush the negative Black women stereotypes out there. Let me also say that unless you have a VERY good reason for not being interested, give the man a chance – you really never know! 

Some Practical Tips

I suggest you examine your hobbies and interests, and start from there. Go online and check out Meet Up groups in your area. It’s a quick, easy, and usually free way to meet new people and expand your circle. Change some of the places you frequent – go to museums, libraries, etc., where people interested in the arts and culture usually frequent. I even suggest you investigate the events at your local Whole Foods Market!

Smile, Smile, SMILE!

I cannot stress enough how important it is to SMILE, be open, be FRIENDLY and APPROACHABLE. Be observant; it’s easy to start conversations over the simplest of things. Of course you still have to vet ANY man, regardless of race. Keep your standards high and don’t take any crap – the same way you would not from a Black man. Confidence is attractive, period – and men love confident women. I’m sure you maintain a neat and attractive appearance; that’s a given for a man of ANY race. (Interestingly, what you’ll find is that Black men are often FAR more critical of our looks than non-Black men are. We’re exotic to them, and the things that Black men tend to rag on – natural hair, skin tone, etc., non-Black men are DRAWN to and LOVE. Again, go figure!)

I have much more I can say – all of that is just for starters. Feel free to ask away, and bounce things off me!

Join in the Fray: What advice can you share? 

Copyright © 2013 Michelle Matthews Calloway, ASwirlGirl, All rights reserved.

How We Handle the Tough Road: Gene-Leigh and Seth

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Seth kisses his bride Gene-Leigh

Seth kisses his bride Gene-Leigh

Those of us who are in the Swirling lifestyle know that there always someone ready to rain on your interracial parade. When I interviewed Gene-Leigh, I asked her: Did you two have any issues regarding your relationship, either from you, your families, or outsiders?

Here, Gene-Leigh candidly shares a few of her and Seth’s experiences.

Seth’s Eye-Opening Experience

Seth recently went through an episode at work where during the course of a conversation with another worker, the person made a racially disparaging remark.  When he came home that night, I could tell that something was weighing heavy on him.  He told me the story, and I sat quietly and listened attentively to him.  As a Black person, what he told me didn’t surprise me at all.  But he was shaken completely to his core because the person who made the remarks was someone he KNEW–and he had no idea the person felt that way about Black people.

The one thing he weighed on him the most was that he was too shocked to respond: “In that second, I felt like I wasn’t defending us.  I felt like I was letting us down.  I was shocked into silence.”

Gene-Leigh’s Response 

I comforted him, and assured him that I was just glad he didn’t give the guy a taste of his fist. My Seth is a gentle giant—-he’s built like a linebacker, and can hoist me around the house on a good day. I didn’t want him to get written up at the job.

I didn’t think Seth was letting us down by not responding–how do you respond to something like that when you’ve never had to DEAL with something like that?  Understand this, readers: Swirling can be tough not only on Black women, but also on our mates.  They are possibly exposing themselves to situations they have never experienced before as non-Black men.  Seth was shocked into SILENCE (which is saying a LOT—he’s an ex-punk rocker after all, NOTHING shocks those guys).

Seth looked at me and said: “I didn’t know people were still that way.  I didn’t know people thought like that.”  I told him that there will ALWAYS be people who think and act that way, because there always have been—-I’ve been through it my entire life.  I think after that incident he saw me and my life experiences with new eyes.

Seth’s Facebook Encounter

A few weeks later, Seth got into a small disagreement with someone he was Facebook friends with because the woman and her husband dressed their (white) son up in Blackface and a dread-locked wig to resemble his favorite baseball player at Halloween.  Of all of the comments, Seth was the only person who questioned if the costume wasn’t offensive to some degree.  The guy blew up, and defended his decision, saying “My kid really idolizes this guy and the player had no problem with it,” which we both knew was a lie.

All Seth could do was stare open-mouthed at the screen.  He turned to me and said: “How can he think that’s okay?  Is he nuts?”  I smiled, kissed him and gave him a hug.  What else could I do?  Sure it was wrong (I mean he MIGHT have slid by with dressing the kid in only the wig–but BLACKFACE?). I know people can’t always understand what they don’t live.  Seth has learned that challenging someone’s belief systems surrounding race can be dangerous.

Haterade from Black Men . . . .

One time when we were in the grocery store once I got hit on by this guy in the jelly aisle (seriously???). Seth was further down the aisle picking up bread.  It’s amazing (but not surprising) to me the assumptions people have about others, because the whole time this guy was hitting on me (as I did my best to ignore him) he had no clue my husband was a few feet from me (Seth knew full well what was going on, we’d played this game with people before, and if I was in ANY trouble he would have come to my rescue–but I’m a pretty tough chick).

It wasn’t until I said: “Baby, do you want grape or strawberry?” and Seth answered with “Peach” did the guy get the clue. I gave the guy the sweetest smile, and held up my left hand with my diamond-encrusted wedding ring before saying, “Sorry.”  And what did I get?  A look of the utmost contempt from the guy before he stormed off.

. . . and from Black Women

We’ve also gotten nasty little barbs of insults from Black women who feel that our relationship is less than valid because we happen to be different races.  One girl pointed at us in Sam’s Club and said, “There’s yet ANOTHER one,” before rolling her eyes in disgust (personally I was more disgusted that her ‘man’ couldn’t seem to keep his pants up and I had to catch a glimpse of his Spongebob boxers–but I digress). o_O

Why Gene-Leigh and Seth Shake the Haters

My husband is an awesome man.  I’m not just saying that because he’s my husband, I’m saying that because it is the unmitigated truth.  Why?  Well, primarily because he puts up with me and my various eccentricities without so much as batting an eyelash (“Okay, Gene, okay, I’ll take the laundry down and kill the spider . . . .). He goes out of his way to make me feel completely and totally beautiful, special, and worth it (he once drove out of his way in an ice storm to bring me roses).  He’s brought a measure of joy to my life that I never thought possible, and while we can both annoy the hell out of each other (“Dammit Seth I just cleaned the kitchen and NOW you want to eat!”) I can’t see spending my life with another person.

So why, pray tell if we are so happy and so loving and caring are there people who want to destroy that based on something as superficial as race?  Why should my happiness be tamped down, questioned, and doubted because my husband isn’t the same color that I am?  I wish I knew the answers to my questions, but as Bob Dylan sang, “The answer my friends, is blowin’ in the wind.”  We’ve had our share of doubters—-a few family members, one friend, and other complete strangers we don’t know—-but it hasn’t shaken how much we love each other.  As a matter of fact, it brings us closer together.

Join in the Fray: Has the Swirling road been tough for you? In what ways?

I’m blogging every day in the month of January in Blogher’s NaBloPoMo Challenge. Thanks for reading, and feel free to comment!

Copyright © 2013 Michelle Matthews Calloway, ASwirlGirl, All rights reserved.

The White Country Boy and the Black City Girl – Part 2

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Seth captures a New Year's Eve kiss from Gene-Leigh

Seth captures a New Year’s Eve kiss from Gene-Leigh

Yesterday Seth, our County Boy, and Gene-Leigh, our Black City Girl Swirl couple was facing an awful dilemma: A BAT was flying around in their home!

Let’s see how the County White boy handled up . . . . .

BAT 1

The Bat Chronicles – Part 2

Gene-Leigh continues,

At this point, my mind had slowly begun to unravel, and the descent into insanity had begun.

“OH GOD WHY???? WHAT THE HELL?” I grabbed my cell phone, and re-dialed the number to Animal Control.  Since it was after hours, I got an answering service.

“Hello? This is Sharon. How may I help you?” She sounded so sweet and nice.  But I knew even before I asked my question what the answer would be.

I swallowed. “Hi, I need to speak to someone from Animal Control,” I said twisting the cord of my phone charger around my fingers.

“I’m sorry, Animal Control is gone for the evening,” Sharon said in her sickeningly sweet tone.

I closed my eyes in defeat before whimpering thank you, and hung up the phone.  I began to weep openly.  Seth sighed, and rubbed my shoulders.  “Don’t panic, okay? Honey, it can’t stay in the house overnight, we have to get it out of here. You gotta help me.”

By now, I was beyond the point of no return.  I was sleep-deprived, and panic-stricken.  The last thing I wanted to hear Seth say was that I had to help him face the beast.

“It’s gonna EAT me!” I wailed before descending into tears again.

Seth rolled his eyes.  “Gene, it’s the size of a mouse with wings.”

I hiccupped and coughed with tears oozing out of my eyes, “It can . . .  FLY!!”

After Seth successfully calmed me down (with lots of forehead kisses), I slipped on a sweater and jeans, and tied a scarf around my hair. Seth donned his cold weather gang member attire from the night before. I’d cried so hard, my nerves were raw. My voice was ragged.

Seth addressed me like a General taking his troops into battle. “Okay, we’re going to go downstairs, that’s where it has to be since the doors up here are closed, and we’ll go from there.”  My only reply was a pitiful wail.

Seth breathed out, exasperated. “And will you knock off the crying please? They travel by sound; you’re going to drive it right to us with that crying.”

After yelping once, I nodded in silent understanding, and obediently followed him to the second floor. Seth quickly swept the room with his flashlight. Not meeting up with Fangy, we slowly crept down to the first floor, where Seth stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and I froze behind him on the landing. I heard a thud.

Urgently, but calmly, Seth beckoned to me.  “Gene! Gene, bring me my keys. It’s in the kitchen. I have to get this door down here open.”

That was all I needed.  I screamed bloody murder.

 “STOP SCREAMING AND GET MY DAMN KEYS!” Seth shouted up the stairs to me.

Panic-stricken, and inconsolable, I grabbed his keys and tossed them down the stairs where they landed with a thud before I ran back up to the second floor.  Seth called out to me.

“No, Gene get back on the steps! You have to keep it from going upstairs!”

I made my way to the first floor landing, holding a sheet in front of me. I tried to keep my composure, but just then, Fangy made his appearance and swept toward Seth before angling sharply upward and soaring into the living room. I gave a scream that would have made Chaka Kahn proud while jumping up and down on the landing like an over-caffeinated toddler.

By this point, Seth was tired, and had had enough of my screaming. “Gene,” he said calmly, while wiping sweat off of his face, “Get your ass outside and see if you can make ENOUGH noise to draw it out of the house!”

I ran down the steps, out of our back door, through the causeway between our house and our neighbor’s, and up the three steps to our front door. I grabbed a broom, and begin to bang the open door with it in an effort to drive the bat-bastard out of the house.

Now let’s stop here.  At 2:00 a.m., here were two grown adults, dressed like they are ready for a Nor’easter (it was the middle of the summer), banging on doors and screaming.  Is it any wonder people think we’re odd?

Seth watched me for a full minute, amused at my efforts. “Yeah, no. He doesn’t seem to care. Get back in here Tito Puente.”

I ran around the back, through the kitchen, and stood next to Seth who was posing with a broom in his hand.  I stared at him in awe, thinking of how much he resembled a golfing trophy.  I then realized that I was in the same room as the monster, and my eyes began dart wildly around, searching for our arch nemesis. Seth’s voice made me jump.

“Do you see him,” he asked me in a near whisper.

I stared crazily around the room waiting for the bat to come swooping down on us. “No . . .  .”

Seth pointed with his chin. “He’s right there, on the door jamb.  . . .”

I followed his eyes, and spied a small bat hanging upside down on the top left side of our doorway. He appeared to be confused—Well if he moves two inches to the left, he’s free. The door is open dude, just fly through it, I thought to myself. Then I started to wonder if the bat was silently laughing at our appearances—wide-eyed, exhausted, and dressed like cold climate Crips. The first few lines of Poe’s “The Raven” crept into my head . . . . ’As I pondered weak and weary . . . . ’ As if on cue, the bat twitched his left wing ever so slightly . . . .

I grabbed Seth’s arm digging my fingernails into his bicep so hard, they bit through the winter coat, and in a hoarse whisper, chanted to him. “Oh God Seth, oh God….he’s going to fly . . . . Oh my God . . . .  Oh my AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” For the second time that night, Chaka would have been singing my praises as I reacted to the bat swooping down off the door toward us.

Seth swung the broom and missed. “GET THE SHEET!” he yelled to me while taking shots with his improvised Louisville Slugger.

I ducked, screamed, and swung the sheet wildly toward the bat, but missed it by a fraction of an inch.

“Almost!” Seth shouted before taking another swing with the broom.

I screamed again as the bat swooped toward us, and swung the sheet. I caught our coat tree instead and brought it crashing to the ground.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I screamed while flailing around madly. The bat swooped again over our heads as I swung the sheet, hopped, and did a fairly accurate pirouette that would have made Bob Fosse proud.

“Gene, COOL IT,” Seth hollered, noting that I was very close to completely losing my sanity with no hope of ever regaining it.

I ran to the first floor landing, and watched the bat swoop around the living room. It was an eerie sight—it made no noise. I watched in horror from the landing as it swooped around from the living room to the kitchen. Seth crept out the front door, and stood on the steps.

Speaking slowly, as if he was trying to explain the concept of astrophysics to a second grader, Seth explained to me, “ I’m going to bang on the door, and try to coax it out. DON’T. SCREAM.”

I covered my mouth, and watched as the bat swooped toward the door, then away, toward the door, and away again, for five minutes. Those five minutes seemed like an eternity! Then, miraculously, drawn by Seth’s noise, the bat flew right out the open front door! Seth gave the broom one final swing, came into the house, and shut and locked the door, looking at me and smiling triumphantly.

“That bastard is GONE.”

Still holding the sheet, I could think of only one thing to say.

“I think I’m gonna faint,” I said before collapsing on our steps.

Seth shook his head, and lifted me easily in his arms.  “Let’s get you to bed,” he said chuckling.

 

Seth, a MRI technologist, and Gene-Leigh, a family therapist, live in Pittsburgh, Pa. The couple describes themselves as “two of the most down-to-earth folks you will ever meet although we are both a bit nutty.”  

 Stay tuned for more adventures from this lovely Swirl Couple!

Join in the Fray: Are you afraid of birds and wings and bats and things?

I’m blogging every day in the month of January in Blogher’s NaBloPoMo Challenge. Thanks for reading, and feel free to comment!

Copyright © 2013 Michelle Matthews Calloway, ASwirlGirl, All rights reserved.

 

How They Met – Swirl Couple Gene-Leigh and Seth Wheeler!

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GENE-LEIGH AND SETH WHEELER

Gene-Leigh and Seth Wheeler

Here on the blog and over at The Swirl World on Facebook, I often receive questions in my in-box from women interested in knowing more about how to date and relate to Rainbeau men. (Shout out to blog mistress Christelyn Karazin of Beyond Black & White for the term “Rainbeau,” which, for Black women, is a term used to describe non-Black men).

Sometimes, the best way to answer certain questions is to hear how it’s done from the people who are successfully doing what you’re interested in. This week we’re featuring Swirl couple Gene-Leigh and Seth Wheeler.

To learn more about how they dated, related, and ultimately married, read on – and stay tuned!

NOTE: Installments are in Gene-Leigh’s own words.

 

Installment One – Gene-Leigh Tells How They Met

“Hmm….I don’t know,” I thought out loud to myself.  I was searching the database of a website called PlentyofFish, and I wasn’t too keen on the results.

“Oh well, they’ll just have to come to me,” I sighed, and started to press enter. I stopped myself, and added to the bottom of my profile, in all caps, “RACE IS NOT A FACTOR”, and pressed enter.

I sat back, cross-legged on my pull out bed, and stared at my new dating profile.  I’d been back in my hometown of Pittsburgh for a little over a year, and after leaving the Windy City (and a destructive relationship) in the dust, I was looking to start anew.  I was in graduate school, worked at night processing checks at a bank, and was about 2 weeks away from moving into my own apartment.  For the next few weeks, I fielded a few messages, made a couple of connections, and vetted a few losers (a poster who said “Baby, you’re hot.  I’ve always wanted a sexy black woman to fulfill my fantasies!”–was QUICKLY deleted and blocked).  I’d moved into my own place, and been there for a week, by the time I got a message from a strikingly handsome man with clear blue eyes.  We exchanged emails a few times, and I liked him.  He was down-to-earth, intelligent, and very handsome.  I began to feel the little eddies of excitement that comes with a new beginning.

What Happens when You’re Patient – and have an Open Mind

And then—NOTHING.  I checked my profile for a week, and got nothing at all from him.  I wondered if I’d scared him off.  Discouraged that I’d wasted my time, I was ready to delete my profile and settle for a lonely life filled with coursework and stress.  I checked my profile one last time, and noticed a message.  I clicked on it, and enlarged the picture of the guy who sent it.

I squinted at the picture, trying to make sense of it, and then remembered skipping over his profile because of my own preconceived notions of what I THOUGHT he was looking for.  That and I noticed that a little blonde girl was also in the picture with him. “Looks like a rocker,” I thought to myself.  His arms were covered in tattoos, and he sat on a chair with his pant legs rolled up, and his bare feet in a kiddie pool.  The little blonde girl, who I assumed was his daughter sat next to him in the pool in a bathing suit smiling.

“What a weird pic to put on a dating website!” I thought smiling.  One of my rules of dating is that I don’t date men with children–and that is my OWN preference.  I know that there are men in the world who are fathers and make awesome mates for women, but I was looking for someone who didn’t already have a lifelong commitment.

“He’s kind of cute in a rocker way…” I thought.  I’d never dated a white man before—-as a matter of fact, I’d gone through a period in my very early 20s where I was staunchly opposed to it.  Too many bad experiences and a nasty stint at a fast food restaurant with customers spouting racist slurs had soured me against “pale folks.”  It took going back to college and expanding my mind, and accepting people for who they were for me to make that change.

The Email Exchanges

“Ah, what the hell,” I thought. I clicked reply and sent him a message back.  I allowed my mind to drift to the possibility of dating outside of my race.  What would my family say?  What about HIS family?  What would society think?  As I drifted off to sleep that night, those questions danced at the front of my mind.  The next day, I received a message and a little more info on my rocker dude.  His name was Seth, he was 28, and lived about 5 miles from me.  He enjoyed listening to (and attempting to play) music, and worked the night shift, like I did.  He thought my picture was pretty.  I smiled as I read his reply.  I dashed off an email, got ready for class, and found myself thinking of him during lecture.

We emailed each other for about two weeks, and in that time, I learned a lot about my “rocker dude”—- he’d gotten out of a short fling a few months before, and the little girl in the picture was actually his god-daughter.  His best friend’s wife (whose daughter it was) took the picture of him sitting on the edge of the pool after she’d set up his account.  I wrote back to him about my life, what I was doing, where I was going, and where I had been.  We typed about music, movies, and bad restaurants.  We talked about family, and I learned that his parents were very liberal folks who lived in a small town about two hours north of Pittsburgh.  We typed about our brothers–we were both the oldest—-and about how his middle name (Andrew) was my brother’s first name.  Now this entire time, I’d been sending messages through my email over my cell phone.  Growing tired of typing, we finally worked up enough courage to exchange phone numbers, and talk on the phone.

First Phone Call . . .

I remember being so nervous the first night he called! “Oh my God I’ve never talked to a white guy, what do I say?  How will he sound?”  When Seth finally called, he was as nervous as I was, but the conversation just flowed like we’d known each other our entire lives.  We talked about the stars, and food, and the sucky dating scene.  He told me that he was glad I was talking to him because it killed him when beautiful women would end their profile descriptions with, “NO white men please.”   That gave me pause.  I was at a loss for words.  I finally put some smile in my voice and told him, “Well, they missed a good one,” and we laughed.

 . . . and First Date

As time went on we got closer, and we started to go out.  Our first date was late at night, and we ate at an all-night restaurant after we were both off of work (remember, we both worked the night shift).  I had a chicken salad, he had pancakes.  He paid, and he wore a black T-Shirt with the Ramones on it and a pair of jeans (he still has that shirt, and since we’ve been married, I’ve been known to sleep in it from time to time).  As time went on we got closer, met each other’s families, and got to know each other more and more.  When he asked me to be his girlfriend, we were watching TV, and he turned to me and very thoughtfully said, “Hey, will you be my girlfriend?” I said “Yes” without thinking—-it was the most natural thing in the world.  We had tiffs and arguments, and great make up sessions.  He bought me an acoustic guitar (which is prominently displayed in our living room even today) and we made music together.  He made me dinner, and gave me a stack of punk rock CDs.  We went to punk rock concerts (which are a ball) and cooked Thanksgiving dinner for our parents. He soon proposed, and we got married on October 11, 2012.

Has this been a whirlwind?  Absolutely.  Has it been hard at times?  Of course.  But when it all comes down to it, we love each other deeply and dearly.  I can’t see spending my life with anyone else–I need him like I need oxygen, and I know he needs me just the same.  Just think: If I’d held on to my old feelings and beliefs, I would have missed out on the love of a lifetime.  He’s my rock, and my “rocker dude”.  I love you Seth (kiss). <3

Tomorrow: The Bat Chronicles (Part 1)

Join in the Fray: On a scale of 1 – 10, how open-minded are you?

I’m blogging every day in the month of January in Blogher’s NaBloPoMo Challenge. Thanks for reading, and feel free to comment!

Copyright © 2013 Michelle Matthews Calloway, ASwirlGirl, All rights reserved.

 

Saluting a Champion of Diversity – Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

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MARTIN LUTHER KING

I believe it goes without saying that Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was a champion of diversity.

It also goes without saying that championing a cause is one thing; giving your life for it is another thing entirely.

Dr. King’s passion to ensure civil rights for all individuals regardless of race, color, or creed provides the platform and impetus for what we seek to do at The Swirl World. 

We celebrate diversity, and we advocate the right of every person to love whomever he or she chooses, regardless of the skin they’re in.

Dr. King wasn’t a Swirler, but I’d like to think he’d be ok with anyone who is.

Today, we salute him – and we Swirl on.

To read Dr. King’s Nobel biography, click here. To read Dr. King’s I Have a Dream speech, click here.

Join in the Fray: Who or what shaped your thoughts about diversity? 

I’m blogging every day in the month of January in Blogher’s NaBloPoMo Challenge. Thanks for reading, and feel free to comment!

Copyright © 2013 Michelle Matthews Calloway, ASwirlGirl, All rights reserved.

It’s a Wrap! (and, It’s an Update)

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Whew! Last night I finally submitted my dissertation proposal for general review. I have to get pre-approval from the board of reviewers at my school before they forward it to the Institutional Review Board (IRB). I won’t bore you with the details, but I will say that the submission represents a huge milestone in my quest to earn a PhD. They may kick it back for one minute reason or the other, but I don’t expect any major objections. Update to follow when I hear back . . . . 

And speaking of updates, a little more than year has passed since I blogged regularly. (Thanks to all of you who called, texted, emailed, Tweeted, or Facebooked me to check on me; I appreciate the love!).  

In 2011 I semi-moved back to Louisiana, made it through my comprehensive exams, nurtured both my parents through multiple hospital stays, made it “through the water and through the flames,” and reinvented myself yet again. Needless to say, all of that took time and energy away from blogging. I’m happy to report that I’m back  with a vengeance! I’m ready to once again share my musings on life, love, swirling, diversity, and everything in-between. I love working out and I’m trying to eat healthier, so I’ll also share those experiences as I dabble into the vegetarian/vegan/raw foods lifestyle.  (Notice I said “dabble.” Seafood will always be on the menu, and I refuse to kill the carnivore residing in me. Just sayin’).  

Anyway, my fellow Swirlers, stay tuned for rants, raves, and craves. I live life out loud! This Swirl Girl is traveling through the swirl world and loving every minute of it. 

 Until my next post, enjoy this dark little ditty by the awesome Justin Nozuka. Feel free to share your “water and flames” moments. 

 

Provin’ and Defendin’

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It’s a scene that I won’t forget: Kim, one of my high school friends, was involved in a heated argument with her older sister Karen. They were going back-and-forth about an incident that occurred between Kim and a girl named Natalie, who was Karen’s best friend. Kim was vehemently denying Natalie’s version of the story and incensed that her sister was taking Natalie’s side rather than hers. I even tried to help Kim out by vouching for her statements. After listening to all the protests that went back and forth like a volley of tennis balls, Miss Mae Jessie (Kim and Karen’s 82-year old Grandmother) looked at Kim with vexation and finally spoke up.

“Awwww, SHADDUP, Gal!” she said irritably, making a shushing motion with her hand. We all jumped and instantly became silent.

“Quit all that provin’ and defendin.’ Ain’t no use in you tryn’ ta convince that gal. She don’t believe you no way.”

Needless to say, at that point the argument was moot.

Not too long ago I had occasion to think about Miss Mae Jessie’s statement about “provin’ and defendin.’” I became embroiled in a Facebook “discussion” that started out weighing the merits of an article that appeared on www.theeconomist.com entitled “Sex and the Single Black Woman” (http://www.economist.com/node/15867956). I won’t go into all the points of the article (after all, Reading is Fundamental – if you care to you can read it for yourself. And yes, I love you, too).

Someone commented that swirling was an option, and (channeling my high school days of piping in and supporting) I made a comment about what statistics show about the rate that Black men inter marry, how they don’t seem to worry about making that choice, and how Black women are reluctant because when they intermarry they are accused of abandoning the race, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.  (Want stats? feel free to read a very long report here http://pewresearch.org/pubs/1616/american-marriage-interracial-interethnic. There are tons more reports I could provide links to; but hey!  I’ll do us all a favor and shout “E.L.M.O.!”).

[Sidebar: Um, for those of you who didn’t read last week’s blog, E.L.M.O. means:

Enough!

Let’s

Move

On!

You see, I tend to over-explain sometimes – hence this sidebar and hence the title of this post. If you continue to read this blog you will probably discover that I’ll have to call on E.L.M.O. at least once during most of the posts. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.]

Suffice it to say that the temperature of the discussion very quickly moved to the boiling point (for me) when one of the guys made the comment, “Remember Massa,” and then (in my estimation) tried to dominate the conversation and do exactly what I’d stated in the first place – make Black women feel guilty for choosing to go into interracial relationships.

We wound up going back and forth about Massa; why we should remember him (or not); be aware of our history and yet move on (or not), Ad infinitum, Ad nauseum.

And suddenly, in the midst of the bickering back and forth, the “provin’ and defendin’” on both sides, came the voice of reason. A very wise Sistah on the boards known for her no-nonsense, shoot-from-the-hip ability to get to the heart of the matter and tell it like it T – I is, made a couple of comments that made me wonder if she was somehow related to ole Miss Mae Jessie. Sistah-Girl stated that Sistahs need to make like the Brothers and just do it. In essence, she thought it was foolish to waste a lot of time (and keystrokes) trying to justify or explain who we loved, or why – just love your man and keep it moving.

In other words, “Quit all that provin’ and defendin.’ Ain’t no use in you trynna convince [them]. [They] don’t believe you no way.”

I had an epiphany, I tell you.

Guess what? Everybody doesn’t need “enlightening,” or an “explanation.” Not only do they not need it, they don’t want it – and sometimes, truth be told, they didn’t ask for it. Explain for what? Sure, there will be some who will have questions and genuinely want to know more – and the people in this category are grown enough to inquire. Those who want to live in the past, denigrate an entire race of people for things that happened before any of us were born, or choose to let the long, hurtful arm of the past reach over and taint their present and their future, will continue to do so. Others who elect to build on the foundation of the past, infused with – and inspired by – the resilience, strength and grace of their ancestors, and move forward embracing the joys of today and the promise of the future, will continue to do so. There’s no need for either side to engage in provin’ and defendin’.  At worst, we can shut each other down and shut each other out, and not believe each other no way. At best, we can live in peace and harmony, agree to disagree – and keep it moving.

Well, I Never!

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The Urban Dictionary defines swirl as “two people of different ethnicities hookin up.” Now, after a wonderful time in undergrad at a prestigious HBCU (historically Black college/university), marriage to a Pentecostal pastor (who passed away after 10 years of marriage), and dates with various brothers. I find myself in the unlikely state of being “a SWIRL girl.”

Yes, me.

ME!

The daughter of an Army officer Father who lived and traveled all over the US and abroad with her Mother and two brothers.  The first (along with my brothers) to integrate the schools in the small town in Louisiana where my Mother grew up.  Soul-Sista, feminist –  ME! Power-to-the-people – ME! Angela-Davis I-love-your-fro-and-I’m-rockin’-natural-hair-right-now – ME!

All-of-that and more describes me, the girl who I can honestly say never seriously entertained the idea of an interracial relationship and was never really down with swirling. In high school a couple of  White guys (very hesitantly) approached me , and in college a Puerto Rican classmate (I’ll call him Darren) had a bona fide crush on me. I dismissively laughed off the high schoolers (and was even somewhat insulted!). I really liked Darren as a person, but just could never wrap my head around actually dating him. I certainly never thought I would be the ME that I am today, “a SWIRL girl.”

Yes!  I’m now  “a SWIRL girl” – all booed up with a White guy.

In a word, WOW.  Mama always said, “Never say never” – and I guess she was right.

And so the journey begins! Please join me here each Friday when I share my views on life, love, and culture as I traverse through “the SWIRL world.”

Feel free to “like” The Swirl World on Facebook and join the discussions there. Talk to ya Friday!