LOVE SEES NO COLOR: My View On Interracial Relationships

My feelings exactly. Image courtesy of


I reckon that the title of this post has given away my feelings on people of different races and cultures dating and having romantic relationships.

A few years ago on the website I wrote about seeing a young teenage couple at a bus stop one day, doing the typical teenage couple thing; kissing, cuddling, etc.

The thing that appealed to me about that twosome was that she was Latina and he was an African-American, giving me a good feeling that relationships in which the people involved are a different race/ethnic group/culture are more accepted in the present day then when that Loving vs Virginia case was going down in 1967.

Unfortunately – and especially in the current cultural atmosphere triggered by the election of this country’s President-Who-I-Refuse-To-Name – there are plenty of folks who are completely against Miscegenation; folks who have the view that different races and ethnicities should never mix romantically, which includes Asians, Latinos, Pacific Islanders, and Jewish people as well as blacks and whites.

I remember back in high school having a crush on a Persian girl; to make a long story short, when I tried to call her, her mother angrily rebuffed me, me not knowing that a big part of Persian culture is for them and their children to only be “with their own”.

Of course I saw – and still see – that as plain old bigotry.


Florida, USA — Young interracial bride and groom on wedding day — Image by © Kai Chiang/Golden Pixels LLC/Corbis I love this wedding pic – that groom is SO lucky to be marrying such a beautiful bride! Photo courtesy of


In fact, I’ll be perfectly honest…

While as a black man, I want to emphasize that this is no way whatsoever implying that I have anything against African-American females as I have a list of black women and girls that I had a crush on over the years, including Clueless’ Stacey Dash (her politics notwithstanding), The Facts of Life‘s Kim Fields, and especially Michelle Thomas, who played Urkel’s obsessive girlfriend on the TV show Family Matters and who tragically didn’t make it to the age of 30, dying of cancer before reaching that age,

I have always been attracted to females of all races and ethnic groups as their personality and integrity has far more importance in my book than the color of their skin and how they worship God.

Basing my romantic interest choices by initial physical attraction (unfortunately, that’s a natural reality) and  – more importantly – “the content of their character”, to quote Martin Luther King, is something that I have always emphasized.

In fact, I’ve always felt that to limit my dating/relationship options to strictly “my own kind”, as too many people, particularly social conservatives and right-wing types, would prefer to do, would not only be akin submitting myself to a voluntary Jim Crow-segregation,

I would feel straitjacketed, limited, and bored.


When it comes to love, a mate should be chosen based on one’s heart and soul rather than skin pigmentation and cultural/ethnic sameness.

They say that “The heart wants what the heart wants” , and I’ll always strongly believe that anything between two individuals that is loving and affectionate should be appreciated and celebrated.

Which was why it gives me a feeling of gladness whenever I see interracial couples out there; it’s real good to see that race, ethnicity and culture in dating is far less of an issue for millennials than for previous generations.

My suggestion to all those couples out there who are given dirty looks or nasty comments because their skin color or ethnicity is different:

Just say this to those folks:

“Love sees no color, because there is only one race – the human race.”

Or tell them,

“You have a right to feel that way, but you know what? It’s SO none of your business!”

Which it isn’t!

Or better yet,  just ignore them.


Now this is a great picture of a truly gorgeous family. Photo courtesy of



My Personal Encounter With Racism: When I Was Denied Something Because of (In My View) Skin Color



Early Spring, 1991.

I was in my final year as an undergraduate student in college and heavily involved in what I hoped would be my life’s work: working with children.

In this case, I was heavily involved in coaching baseball and softball, and had been for several years despite my young age (23).

Although I was the manager of my brother’s Little League baseball team that Spring, for some reason I wanted to coach softball as well; to keep myself busy and occupied and continue to obtain the necessary experience that was needed for my career plans…

Which was to either become a social studies teacher or a P.E. teacher/coach, or both.

So imagine my feeling that a golden opportunity had revealed itself when I took a look at my college newspaper and found an announcement that a girls’ softball team from a different little league from where I was coaching my brother was looking for someone to join its coaching staff.

I wasted no time in calling the number listed in the ad that evening, confident that I would impress the person doing the hiring with my knowledge of softball.

On the other end of the line was a woman who was the manager of the team, which consisted of nine, ten, and 11-year olds. She informed me that as she was a parent who volunteered to coached and wasn’t too experienced in softball, she was looking for someone who was and could teach her charges how to play the game.

I also recall this lady stating that her players weren’t very enthusiastic about being on the team or playing softball in general, that at times those girls behaved like they were only there because their parents wanted them in an enrichment activity. This lady – who shall be nameless – likewise said that being that they were from an affluent area and well-to-do families,  they sometimes acted entitled.

Not that they were exactly spoiled brats, but a more accurate description  according to her would be kids would were not used to, and didn’t like, hearing the word “No”.

I could easily tell that this manager of the team was very much impressed by my replies regarding experience and reactions to her various issues with her players as I was giving anecdotes about how I handled similar situations with the teams that I had coached, as well as what I do to get her team up to speed, namely putting them through batting and fielding drills.

In other words, do activities with those girls that would make them better softball players.

My enthusiasm for potentially working with these youngsters, which I conveyed over the phone, was what I believe impressed her the most.

As our phone conversation went on, it was painfully obvious that she liked what she was hearing, and eagerly invited me to her team’s next game so we could meet face-to-face and – or so I assumed – formalize my officially joining the team’s coaching staff.

Imagine how taken aback I was when I arrived at the park a few days later and approached this lady whom I had such a good interview with over the phone, all enthusiastic at what was going to be a good adventure and experience for me…

I could feel the freezing tension from her as she gave me a most peculiar look that said, “What the hell?!”  like she was shocked at the sight of me, which looking back I’m sure she was.

In what was a much more unfriendly tone than she exuded over the phone, she told me to have a seat in the bleachers behind her team’s dugout, watch the game, and she would talk to me afterwards.

So the game began and ended, and afterwards I approached this woman to make arrangements to impart my knowledge on her band of ballplayers as an official coach when with that same unfriendly look, she told me something that nearly 25 years later I have not forgotten:

” I’m going to hire someone else to join us because he asked first, but I’ll put your name on the board for future opportunities, if any other openings come up.”

Which of course was a fancy way of saying,

“We’ll keep your name on file.” 

Or more accurately, “Don’t call us, we’ll call you,”  both of us knowing full well that there would be no intention of doing so.

Now I understand that there will be folks who will say that I shouldn’t pull the race card, that I am needlessly crying victim and maybe someone else really did ask first.

However, here’s the rub in all of this…

This was the same lady who was so impressed with what I had to say and was so friendly with me over the phone, she practically anointed me as a superhero-like savior.

Then she takes one look at me and her body language and vibe turns 180 degrees from how she was on the phone, to where she seemingly saw me as an Ultimate Pariah who in her opinion ought, to coin a phrase, “Stick with his (my) own kind”.

Of course she didn’t tell me flat-out that she didn’t want me around her team or her girls because of my being an African American, that she was uncomfortable with some big black dude coaching and interacting with her little white girls – at least to my face.

For the record, I’m not sure if this was a huge factor, but the league that her softball team was in was, at minimum, 98% white with a handful of Asians thrown in; I was told by a parent that the only African American kid in the entire organization was the son of some celebrity.

I strongly suspect that during the game in the dugout, out of earshot, she was expressing her unpleasant surprise that my skin color wasn’t the same as hers and that she was most apprehensive about working with someone who was of my ethnic culture.

I should have confronted her about it that afternoon, saying…


“I would like you to tell me something, and please be as honest as you can…”

“Being that you were so friendly and enthusiastic with me over the phone and you interacting with me in such a different way now – which is how I perceive it – is this a case of you being uncomfortable with having black men among you and your players, that when it comes to situations like this you feel that  African Americans and whites are better off separated?”


I would have respected this lady if she had told me that I was right in my assumptions, because I have always felt that raw, naked, brutal honesty is needed as far as espousing racist views if any true progress is going to be made in this country.

As opposed to the old standby, “I’m not a racist, but…” that so many people seem to say.

Unfortunately, that is all a moot point in this case because after this manager said what she said, I simply stood there, replied “OK”, and went home.

I don’t even remember her shaking my hand.

What I should have done was go to her league’s board and file a formal complaint/accusation of racial bias.  But alas, that failed to cross my mind.

I would go on to have a great season coaching my brother’s team, which (along with that league) was much more culturally diverse, but what happened on that softball field that cool spring afternoon bothered me for a while.

I certainly received a valuable life lesson, that despite all the gains that African Americans and other people of color had made during the previous 30 years there were still – and most likely always will be – folks who will see you as a lesser being because of your skin color, or your surname, or the fact that English isn’t your first language.

And will consequently refuse to hire you because of that.

Please don’t misunderstand – there’s been a lot of water flowing under the bridge since that day in 1991, and it would be very ignorant of me to harbor any grudges or hate of this girls’ softball manager for what happened over two decades ago.

But how I was personally affected by this rejection, and how it remains entrenched in my memory, says something about how seemingly indelible this issue of racism continues to be.

Despite the presence of an African American president.

do remain hopeful that things will change, that every living person will at all times be judged strictly by the content of their character; I believe that it’s only a matter of time.

How much time, however, remains very debatable.


Children Running with American Flags --- Image by © Kevin Dodge/Corbis