It felt different this time, like the flirtatious version of the “black nod” at work — an acknowledgement between two black employees who might not even know one another, but who have a shared experience.
What I’m craving right now from a partner — more than feeling beautiful, more than anything — is a “black nod” version of a relationship.
They’re no longer the object of my affection, a mirror for my self-worth, or an affirmation of my beauty. The night Trump was elected, I wrote about feeling lonely.
I wanted to be comforted — but I wanted it to be by someone who had an inkling of the anxiety I felt for my family, my loved ones, and for myself.
They’re in the streets, calling senators and congressmen, attending community board meetings, and holding sign-making parties. But while the political universes of my white friends are cracking open, I’m feeling more inclined than ever to cloister myself.
I’ve gone on a few dates with white guys in the last few months, and the same thing always happens.
White men have preoccupied me my whole life, from the schoolyard to the subway, but these days I’m seeing them differently.In those moments, I’ve wished to be sitting in front of someone who could relate.Despite knowing I can feel intimacy with white guys, right now what divides us feels like a chasm.While I tried to explain to this man why what he was saying was offensive, my boyfriend stood there in silence.Later, I tried to convey how hurt I was that he didn’t say anything, but he didn’t seem to understand how bewildered I was.
It’s a pretty good way to pass the time from Brooklyn to midtown. I spent my childhood surrounded by black and brown kids, but when I got to high school, suddenly everyone around me was white.