In 2012 I reconnected with a wonderful man from my past. When I was a college student working on my BA and MA degrees I was fortunate to take courses with a history professor who is full blood American Indian. From the time I graduated in 1996 we kept in contact via email exchanging notes and well wishes at the holidays. In 2011 Don, my partner, emailed me and asked if I wanted to participate in a conference panel. After agreeing I thought little about it.
What Loving Day Means To Me
Everyone is unique, and everyone has a personal reason to celebrate Loving Day! These are stories contributed by real people. You can contribute your own story, but make sure you login or register first.
In 2006 I began a new relationship with a man that I had fallen in love with, ignoring the fact that my family was very predigest as was his. I am white and he is black. I had been raised to believe that black people were not as good as white people and was not allowed to even have black friends. As I became an adult and could make my own decisions I realized there were many black people I liked and they felt just like I did about many things.
Loving Day means everything to me ever since I learned so much about from when I first saw the Hallmark movie Mr and Mrs Loving. Richard and Mildred Loving are the most courageous people that lived on this Earth. God gave them this purpose to put an end to racist laws that forbade interracial relationships and marriages. Especially since I am white and my girlfriend Rowena who is Nigerian is black.
On a daily basis we don’t consider that we are a mixed race couple or that our children are multiracial people. Honestly I sometimes forget. In the whirlwind of activity that makes up our family home, it’s easy to get lost in just living. As a family we Love, Laugh, Cry, Play, Dance, Eat, Celebrate and Mourn like any other family.
The truth is most days my life is loved as just little ol' me, doing the things that interest me, working, and living which most of the time has very little to do with my race or gender.
My family, my husband, our children and I just love, dance, play, eat, have fun, laugh, cry, have hard times, experience all the joys and triumphs, as just us.
I can honestly say that sometimes I forget we are a mixed race couple with mixed race children. We're just a family-experiencing this journey called life together, most days.
Loving Day stands for the sacrifice of an amazing family that fought to secure, not only their own future, but the future of all inter-racial, inter-ethnic couples in the United States. Love and acceptance are two of the most beautiful attributes of human culture, yet there is such an unwillingness to recognize or fight for these as if they were injustices on the human spirit. The what-if's and the paranoias of ignorance and hate can only be stilled by kindness, education and a constant push forward.
I am white and native american. I have friends and family members of all races, religions, and sexual orientations. About 5 years ago my job as an attorney in a State far away from my family and I ended up falling in madly love with this very charming airline pilot (a white guy). I have spent most of my life in school and with my job I worked about 70 hours a week, so I was finally ready to find my prince charming and settle down. We got engaged and although he had met my parents, he hadn't met my siblings or sister-in-laws.
On the list of people important to me, the people who top the list are my family, friends, and Mildred and Richard Loving. Not only are they inspirational in leading their fight for their right to marry somebody they loved, but they gave my parents the right to marry each other. My dad is black and my mom is white, and they were married in 1981 in Washington. Yes, Washington had already legalized interracial marriage in 1967, but had my parents traveled to 16 of the other states in the country without Mildred and Richard's help they would not be recognized as married.
I remember one of my first conversations about race relationships (as opposed to race relations) was with my uncle, who was born in 1921. I was born in 1967, so I guess this conversation took place around 1977, when my uncle was in his mid-50s. He was recounting a story his father (born in 1877) told him as a youngster. His father (my grandfather) told him that it would be much preferable for any of his sons to "bring home" a black woman than to bring home a "white trash" woman.