Five years later, my Filipino father met my white mother at a wedding party in Washington D.C. and a short time later they were married.
This may not be news but very recently a Louisiana Judge has refused to marry a white woman and a black man. He's not a racist though! No, no, no, he marries black people all the time! Equal, but separate, amirite? His extra super awesome excuse? The children will suffer later.
I'm sorry, what?
Let it soak in, rinse it around in your mouth a bit. Now spit it out.
"'I don't do interracial marriages because I don't want to put children in a situation they didn't bring on themselves,' Bardwell told the Hammond Daily Star. 'In my heart, I feel the children will later suffer.'"
Okay, okay, it's true. No child brings situations on themselves.
Wait. Did he just call an interracial marriage a situation? Yeah, that's what I heard.
Judge Bardwell thinks that I'm suffering. Obviously as the product of an interracial marriage, my brother and I must have led awful, miserable lives full of suffering!
No. Not to my recollection. I can collect a dozen reasons why I don't get along with my father, but who can't name a few issues with their parents regardless of their race?
You want to know the absolute worst part of growing up bi-racial? My last name is unpronouncable. I have to coach people for months on the proper pronunciation. I've had people GIVE UP and call me by a stupid nickname. Boo hoo. I have a hard to pronounce last name. Poor me.
That last name keeps me fresh in the mind of every teacher at my law school. I have a half a dozen recs at my fingertips because no professor is going to forget that last name. Score.
What else, what else, let me think...
Oh, I know! I have this skin that tans at the drop of a hat! From my front door to my car, if the sun is out, I'll get a tan! That's just...um...yeah, that's kind of awesome, isn't it?
I can swear in two languages, I can understand accents like its nobody's business thanks to growing up with a very thick accent in my ear. I have great hair. I have my mom's height and my dad's coloring. I'm an amalgam of the best features on both sides. As per tradition my middle name is my mother's maiden name and that comes in handy, too, sometimes.
Let's think about these hypothetical bi-racial children of the Louisiana couple. Half Asian, half white is, admittedly, different than being the child of a black/white relationship. But you know what? Children have coping mechanisms. I used to get curious looks from people when I was with my white grandparents during summer breaks. But you know what? Who cared? I was with my grandparents who love me and it didn't matter what anyone thought about how we looked. I was never going to see them again. I was never going to talk to them. As long as I had my Grandad everything was great.
Frankly, every child experiences hardships in one form or another and frankly those experiences shape our lives and frame our futures. And who is this random judge to decide that someone shouldn't procreate? Frankly, Judge Oldtimey, the couple can procreate with or without your stupid marriage license, so get off your high horse and stop thinking that you're saving future children from some imagined "suffering."
You big jerk.
