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When we do, I look his way every so often to see if he’s staring back, to see if we’ve got what my best friend and I call “the affinity,” a mutual acknowledgement that we one another. But while they chased after blondes and brunettes, I was ignored.
” before heading for the door, but instead, I sit down, and continue talking about which dystopian novel best describes our current predicament, or whatever.“Can I say the N-word if I’m singing along to a song? ” (I don’t know dude, I ask myself the same question every goddamn day.) I know that I shouldn’t feel compelled to always speak for my race, but I can’t expect a white boyfriend to stop asking some of those questions if we’re to come to a mutual understanding.Lately, though, I just don’t feel like answering them.No matter how close I held the mirror up to their faces, sometimes their good and liberal wells of understanding and compassion were simply inaccessible.On election night, I thought about all those moments, and I felt overwhelmed at the possibility of taking that on over the next four years.