In Defense of the Black Man

I LOVE Black Men.

This afternoon, I went to the spa to have my nails done. I have a regular manicurist and usually there is someone booked after me. Today was no exception. The client after me was an 81-year-old woman named Lillian. While my nails were drying, she and I started talking (if you're reading this you probably know I talk to everybody...lol). She was funny and spry--not how I would imagine a woman in her early 80s.

The converstaion soon turned to my dating life. I mentioned that I was looking for a nice man....blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda. Nothing new. After talking for a few minutes, she told me that I was a very pretty girl. I said thank you.

We talked about my job. I told her about my students and why I enjoy teaching.

The converstaion took a lull. Then, out of nowhere, she says," You know, you really are a beautiful girl. You're much to pretty and intelligent to date a Black man. You need a nice middle-aged white man."

That was followed up by, "I don't mean to offend you, I like Black men. But, you don't need one."

Floored, I was at a loss for words.

Lillian is Black.

What are you thinking now, dear reader? Is she in a position to make that horrible comment because she is an elderly Black woman and she believes she knows what kind of a terrible life I will lead if I *gasp* end up with a Black man? Can she assert that I need a white man after looking at the breakdown of the Black family and the continued negative press that surrounds black men? Can she assume that because there are more Black men in prison than in college, that an educated Black woman need not bother herself with these men? If she is Black can she stand firm on that comment?

Pause.

I lied. Lillian is White. Truthfully. White as the driven snow white. Now, I pose the same questions:

What are you thinking now, dear reader? Is she in a position to make that horrible comment she believes she knows what kind of a terrible life I will lead if I *gasp* end up with a Black man? Can she assert that I need a white man after looking at the breakdown of the Black family and the continued negative press that surrounds black men? Can she assume that because there are more Black men in prison than in college, that an educated Black woman need not bother herself with these men? As an elderly white woman should she be able to stand firm on that comment?

Well, here is where I stand:

I LOVE Black men. I find Black men to be the epitome of strength. I love the Black man's swagger, I love the varieties of his cocoa-colored skin and varying textures of hair. I love his locks; I love his waves: I love his fades; I love his braids. I love his protective nature. I love his smoothness. I love his hustle-when-I-need-to mentality. I want a Black man. I want a Black man and little brown-skinned girls with puff balls for hair and swinging hips like their mamma. I want a Black man who I understand and who understands me. I love Black men so much, that recently (since I moved to the West Coast), I have found my feeling truly hurt when I see Black men with non-Black women: I am perplexed, confused and often frustrated. I want you, but somehow you've given up on me.

Now, today, I have a woman trying to get me to give up on you as well.

But I won't.