Posts Tagged ‘interracial marriage’

Isn’t it crazy how our first impressions of someone can be completely wrong? I’ve had people tell me I look more like a Keisha than a Jennifer (what?!). I’ve seen mouths drop when I state that I graduated from BYU and yes, we’re Mormon (though technically not called that anymore). We’ve all had our share of wrong first impressions.

interracial couple in an interracial marriage wrong first impression

Before my husband and I had our first date I had a picture in my mind of what he would look like. We’d spoken on the phone and I knew he grew up for awhile in North Carolina, was a big sports fan, his mom was from Atlanta (like me!) and he served a mission in the Caribbean. I assumed tall dark and handsome. I was not expecting a cute white dude from Utah. Now this is another story for another day. But what I will say is through the years I’ve continued to learn a lot about first impressions.

We met on that blind date of sorts, 15 years ago this week. I thought he was cute, but a bit quiet. A little funny. Based on that first impression, I wasn’t sure it was going to work. I didn’t know if he’d get me. But it only took a couple more dates for me to realize that this guy was made for me. From serenading me with 90s R&B, to introducing me to fry sauce and Cafe Rio.

wrong first impression of interracial families

Throughout our years together we’ve had a lot more first impression mixups. People not realizing we are together in line, people assuming I’m not my daughter’s mom, people assuming he’s not our son’s father, and other things here and there that honestly, (and thankfully) feel most like distant memories at this point. But one thing that’s bothering me more than I realized is an assumption people make when my husband puts on his work uniform.

“Do people ever call you racist?” I asked him one afternoon in passing.

“HA!” He shouted in response. “Are you joking?”

I’ll admit the question was kind of a joke. I knew angry people called him that sometimes but I don’t think I knew (and still don’t know) the extent.

“Every day,” he said. Like, multiple times a day. As in, when responding to a call, while monitoring a protest, or randomly yelled at a passerby driving down the street.

It doesn’t really bother him. He’s used to it. And it didn’t used to bother me. Mainly because I’d resorted to it coming with the territory. But recently an acronym appeared in a comment below one of my Instagram photos that sent my into a fury.

First off, let me say that this wasn’t from any of my lovely followers. The photo was of Lil’ J and I at her daddy’s graduation from the police academy about 7 years ago. I used it for a partnership about helping the homeless. Well the post was promoted across the platform and reached many many more people. Many strangers. Strangers that didn’t like 1. Our interracial marriage. And 2. The fact that he was a police officer.

I can’t even tell you the level of horrendous comments some people had the gaul to write. Most of them surrounding the fact that he would likely kill me, or how disgusting our relationship was. Some dared to say that “given the climate” our photo was insensitive. Excuse me? Are these the same types of people who would say that a black person trying not to sit in the back of the bus in the 50s was being insensitive given the climate? I’m sorry but our existence isn’t a political statement.

I digress…

I noticed four capital letters that seemed to be repeated over and over by numerous commenters (before I shut the comments off completely).


After awhile my curiosity was piqued so I googled it and learned it stands for “All cops are bastards.”

Well that’s not very nice.

My entire life I’ve been put off by stereotypes.

Assuming all women are ______.

All black people are _______.

People assuming I got the job because I’m black. Or that’s the reason I got into college, ignoring the hard work and straight As.

Then it brought me back to a section of a book I read that embodies what I was feeling.

A lot of us would get upset if my kids or I was called the N word. My husband would probably lose his mind. But do I get upset when I see someone call him a pig?

There’s a part in Brene Brown’s book, Braving the Wilderness where she sums up her beliefs and fully encompasses my conflicted feelings on the matter:

Here’s what I believe:

1. If you are offended or hurt when you hear Hillary Clinton or Maxine Waters called bitch, whore, or the c-word, you should be equally offended and hurt when you hear those same words used to describe Ivanka Trump, Kellyanne Conway, or Theresa May.

2. If you felt belittled when Hillary Clinton called Trump supporters “a basket of deplorables” then you should have felt equally concerned when Eric Trump said “Democrats aren’t even human.”

3. When the president of the United States calls women dogs or talks about grabbing pussy, we should get chills down our spine and resistance flowing through our veins. When people call the president of the United States a pig, we should reject that language regardless of our politics and demand discourse that doesn’t make people subhuman.

4. When we hear people referred to as animals or aliens, we should immediately wonder, “Is this an attempt to reduce someone’s humanity so we can get away with hurting them or denying them basic human rights?”

5. If you’re offended by a meme of Trump Photoshopped to look like Hitler, then you shouldn’t have Obama Photoshopped to look like the Joker on your Facebook feed. There is a line. It’s etched from dignity. And raging, fearful people from the right and left are crossing it at unprecedented rates every single day. We must never tolerate dehumanization—the primary instrument of violence that has been used in every genocide recorded throughout history.

My life circumstances have forced me to have a more open mind but I still make mistakes. I’m still learning. Really, we all are. And real courage comes when we’re brave enough to admit that.

In reality you know nothing about a person at first glance. You could make assumptions. But you’re risking being very wrong.

white father with biracial children don't get the wrong first impression

15 years ago I had the wrong first impression of my husband. But I’m glad I said yes to a second date.



Just Me and Him

I absently flipped through a photo album before placing it in a moving box. Inside were a series of selfies my husband and I took throughout our first year of marriage.

“We were so young,” I said. My husband was standing near me and he glanced at the pictures in my hand.

“Yea, we were,” he replied.

“And we were completely different people,” I went on.

He asked what I meant by that and I explained how we had such different goals and interests. But really, what’s changed is our focus. Back then it was all bout us, and now it’s our season of raising young children.

Every year since having our oldest daughter, we make a point to take family pictures. (In theory we’d use these for Christmas cards but let’s be real, that’s only happened a couple times). A few years ago, at one of these photo sessions, I asked if I could get a couple pictures with just my husband and I. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I have come to treasure these so much.

Interracial married couple standing in a field holding hands.

This year we took a flurry of family photos with Lindsay Mac Photography and with THREE kids in the picture, I was lowering my expectations big time. But when she asked if there were any other requests I had for photos I knew what it was.

“Yes! A few of just me and him.”

We are so much older than those young pups that were staring at me in that photo album. We have less hair, and more wrinkles. But thats from 14 years of love, laughter and grit.

I am blown away by the beautiful family pictures we got back (I didn’t even think my son was in most of them because he was so busy running all over the place… And I’ll share those soon). But on the eve of our 14th wedding anniversary I wanted to share these. Just me and him. Because after all, it all started with us.

I often tease my husband about the days early in our marriage when he was terrified of police officers. We’d see one pull up behind us and my husband would freak out.

“It’s because I didn’t want to get a ticket!” He says. I mean it’s a valid point. We were poor and couldn’t spare a hundred bucks.

“But still,” I tease. “You were a white dude driving around in Utah afraid to get pulled over. Imagine how black people feel right now.”

He doesn’t disagree with me. Actually, he sees firsthand the terrified look on some people’s faces now that he’s the one in uniform. He understands why some people have that fear, but he wishes that wasn’t the case. That people didn’t generalize him.

Welcome to my world.

I’ve always felt like I was a little weird. Sensed I’m different in a way that sometimes leaves me feeling like I don’t really fit in. Or not into one particular group at least.

Growing up I was friendly to everyone, but didn’t belong to any particular clique. I couldn’t really kick it with the black girls, or hang like one of the white girls. I was on the cheerleading squad but during school hours I didn’t exactly fit in as one of “the cheerleaders.” I went to Fellowship of Christian Athletes, yet as a Mormon, I had to defend my Christian beliefs to the group.

Even now, I feel like our family is somewhat of a walking contradiction. Currently, my biracial daughter very much identifies as Black. Though she doesn’t usually bring it up unless we’re discussing Black history, which… I mean, we kind of do a lot. We’re Mormon, but we support gay marriage and/or families. My husband is a white cop and we support him too. Don’t even get me started on the stares our family gets when we travel to the heart of the south.

On paper this just shouldn’t compute. Enter our stats into the bias calculator and it would explode.

interracial family, how we choose love over bias

But I think at some point in my life… Some time between the awkwardness of middle school and the judginess of new motherhood, I learned to be ok with standing alone.—Not fitting it, and finding the beauty in feeling like I’m some kind of crazy person who can care about two opposing viewpoints at once and call BS when someone says “You’re either with us, or against us.”

This really hit home when I became a mom. I knew I would love my children no matter what.

In many many less words than I’m using, this new spot by P&G beautifully demonstrates what’s possible with a mother’s love.

These days, sometimes it seems groups are formed solely for the purpose of hating the same opposing people; whether an anti-political group, a type of diet, a certain race, religion, profession or activist group.

Imagine if we put our efforts together to create positive change through light and love. If we shared a bit of that non-biased love we have as parents, with the rest of the world. If we gave people a bit more benefit of the doubt. Or got to know someone who believes, lives or loves differently than we do. What if we saw the same potential in them that we can see in our children? Imagine if we chose love over bias. What would the world look like?

I hope that someday I’ll get to see.

The importance of teaching our children to choose love over bias.

Look, I’m just going to be real. I read Bachelor spoilers. And as soon as I knew a black girl made it to the final four all I cared about was her being the next Bachelorette.

“This is our shot!!” I told my sister. Rooting for Rachel was like rooting for the Chicago Cubs pre-2016.

Black girls just don’t make it far on this show. They’re the underdog on this bizarre reality show that we just can’t turn away from. In the 20-something seasons of this show they’ve never had a black lead. Hello! Black women want to find love too! (Let’s ignore the terrible marriage success rate of the show for the sake of this post).

So, night one of Nick Viall’s season of The Bachelor there are like 5 or 6 black girls who hop out of the limo. Definitely seems more than the average. All of them were beautiful but I had my eyes peeled for the one who would steal Nick’s heart. As soon as Rachel got the first impression rose I knew she was the one who would take it further than any other sista had in the past.

I was in an interracial marriage before the bachelor made it cool. Nick Viall and Rachel.

I texted a few friends my prediction of her being the next bachelorette.

Then, last week ABC did what they hadn’t done before and spoiled their own show to let the world know what I had known for weeks–Rachel doesn’t win Nick’s heart. But, she is the next Bachelorette (a better ending if you ask me because really, she’s too good for him). Which means I’m in a hurry to end this season and get on with the next.

I’m still amused though, watching Rachel’s remaining time on this show and figuring out where it went wrong.

Last night on The Bachelor we saw Rachel take Nick to her hometown where they brought up the interracial couple topic about a dozen times.

I rolled my eyes as it came up over and over and got almost cringe-worthy. Are interracial relationships really that taboo? Has it not been cool the last 12 years I’ve been married? I’d sure like to think it has.

Valentines photo shoot with biracial siblings

A few things about them beating this topic into the ground. Number one, I hope they don’t make Rachel’s whole season about that. I think she’ll have a diverse group of guys but I imagine a majority will still be white. So the interracial relationship storyline has the potential to be overplayed.

Three different people asked Nick if he had ever dated a black girl before and he was like “Uh, do group dates with Jasmine count?”

Ok, I tease. Really, he actually said a couple of things I thought were pretty great.

For one “I’m not colorblind.” Thank you Nick for not pretending like you didn’t notice she’s black. She is a beautiful, brilliant, funny woman and she is also black. No need to act like that’s not a part of who she is. No need to feign as if you don’t see it, like it’s something to be ashamed of.

I was in an interracial marriage before the bachelor made it cool. Nick Viall and Rachel.

He also said he knew people/the public/viewers what have you, would make the conversation about their interracial relationship. I haven’t noticed as much hoopla about that until after they announced her as the Bachelorette. Now it’s all “Wow! The first black bachelorette!!!” And how that may be different–More on my thoughts on that later.

Another point brought up last night–I think by Rachel’s sister, is the fact that in today’s climate you do have to know how to navigate an interracial relationship. I almost completely agree with that.

On one hand it’s true. In today’s climate it’s important to have a partner who can understand black issues or at least empathize. If Nick was a white dude oblivious or in denial to the fact that racism exists, it would be a pretty big red flag. Rachel brought him to her black church–obviously an important part of her life. He needs to be comfortable in settings like that.

On the other hand, I think after you’ve been in an interracial relationship for a long time, you tend to forget you’re different. In my opinion it becomes less of an issue as time goes on. There are so many questions and noticed-looks in the beginning then after a while other things become more important. Conversations around race still come up–In the news, in sports, with friends. And that’s where being on the same page, or at least having a certain level of understanding is so important.

I was in an interracial marriage before the bachelor made it cool. Nick Viall and Rachel.

So yes, I’m excited about Rachel being the next Bachelorette. Not just because she is black, but because I think she’s going to bring a higher caliber of guys and conversation to the show which in turn brings a different kind of entertainment. And yes, because she is black.

Am I proud of ABC for casting a black lead? No. Is it about dang time? Yes! They could have done it years ago.

I’m rooting for her to find love, and if it helps normalize interracial relationships even more then hey, that’s cool too.

“I like that picture of me as a baby mom, my skin was nice and white,” my daughter told me last week.

“What?” I asked her. Thinking I heard right, but hoping I didn’t.

“My skin was white, I wish I could go back to that,” she clarified.

“Your skin is beautiful the way it is, you don’t need to be different,” I said.

“But I do! And I wish my hair was straight!”


“Because then when I go swimming it would be silky smooth when I come out of the water,” she  told me.

Ok, well, that kind of made sense. We have some serious detangling sessions after swimming in the pool. But I told her that happens to everyone, whether your hair is curly or straight.

When your biracial daughter says she wishes she was white

“Your curly hair and skin are both beautiful,” I told her. “You’re brown like mommy and white like daddy, we made you the way you are.”

“You MADE ME?” She asked. Oops. This conversation was quickly taking a sharp turn toward another chat I wasn’t ready for.

“I mean, you’re just how you’re suppose to be, and we love the way you are.”

“But I want to be graceful, like Elsa. …What is ‘graceful’ anyway?”

I took this opportunity to try to turn things around.

“It’s when you’re elegant, calm, and gentle.”

“So basically the opposite of my brother?” She asked.

“Right… You ARE graceful.”

Her face lit up and she squealed with glee.

“Ok, I love my skin and hair!”

I knew the conversation was over for now, but not for good.

I distinctly remember in kindergarten was when I started to “wake up” to what other girls saw as pretty. And it wasn’t me. Some even went as far to call my skin ugly. To my knowledge this hasn’t happened to my daughter yet.

It’s left me wondering how I’ll react when she brings it up again, because I think she probably will at some point. I think it’s normal–not preferred of course–but somewhat expected given the society we live in.

I wonder, do little white girls ever tell their parents they wish they were brown? Do 5-year-old girls with straight hair ever wish for a head full of curls? Or has society’s showcase of beauty made that a non-issue?

When you go to school, turn on the TV, or watch Disney princess movies where very few look like you, it can alter your sense of what’s beautiful.

Biracial Disney Princess Series: My Little Princess- A cute and creative mother-daughter photo series featuring a biracial girl dressed up as Disney Princesses.

Ok yea, sure, there’s princess Tiana, and I love the movie, but I’ll be the first to admit how disappointed I was that she was a frog for 90% of the movie. I wanted my daughter and other little girls to fall in love with a dark-skinned princess singing and dancing in her gown throughout the movie, like little girls could during all of the other movies.

Nevertheless, she knows she can embody any princess she wants to be. I’ve made it a point to make sure the books on our shelves are filled with beautiful brown boys and girls who look like me, and my children.

When your biracial daughter says she wishes she was white: How to stay calm and work through the situation.

Now I’m becoming more aware of opportunities to point out people who challenge the norm. Black ballerinas, cheerleaders, actors and figure skaters. Though I’ve always told her she can be anything she wants to be, I think it’s important for me to show her people who are doing the things she loves and aspires to do. People she can see as beautiful and talented who also look like her.

Monica Kaufman, Atlanta’s top anchor for decades, and Oprah both played a huge part in my aspiring to be a news anchor. They were beautiful, talented, doing amazing things, and they looked like me. Somehow seeing them made that dream seem more realistic.

I know to some people it doesn’t seem like that should be important, but I’d argue otherwise. Just like we want our daughters to see women doctors, leaders, and other women doing wonderful things, and being role models; I’m wanting to see more of that for women of color.

My daughter and I have had similar conversations before, and I can tell the way she self-identifies is evolving. I’m trying to be careful not to overreact because the mind of a child works much differently than the mind of an adult. I just want to do my part in making sure she grows up to be proud of who she is, inside and out.

A few nights ago I confessed something to my husband that I hadn’t previously verbalized.

See, he stopped wearing his wedding ring several months ago for numerous reasons: The job, the gym, and fat fingers. It used to annoy me. You’d better watch out for badge bunnies! But it doesn’t bother me anymore. I realized I was dealing more with the insecurities I have when taking my ring off.

I don’t worry about men hitting on me (HA!) but people judging me. It all came out over a (very rare) discussion we were having about race.

“If I go to the grocery store and the kids are acting up and I’m not wearing my wedding ring, I’m going to get disapproving looks and people shaking their heads at ‘another baby mama with more kids than she can handle’,” I told him. “I don’t get the benefit of the doubt, or adoring looks like you get when you’re out with them.”

He didn’t argue.

This isn’t a realization as much as it is an awakening of sorts now that both of my kids are exiting toddler hood and approaching adolescence. I’m more hyper-aware of reactions they may receive.

When people look at my kids right now, they see two happy, adorable bright youngsters smiling back at them. That’s what I see (most of the time), but as I watch my biracial children grow older, my worries for them, and how people see them grow as well.

Biracial kids, biracial siblings, biracial brother and sister

I hope strangers look beyond any preconceived notions and see the smart, jovial, kind, thoughtful, amusing people they are.

But will they see my son’s fro and darker skin and subconsciously think he’s a troublemaker?

Will girls tell my daughter she is too dark to play with them? Or will other girls say she is full of herself because her skin color is lighter than theirs? Will my daughter be confident enough to pave her own way despite outward appearances?

Will my son be able to play with his friends’ toy guns without causing alarm? (We don’t and won’t have them at our home).

A long, LONG time from now, when my children are old enough to date, will their friends at church bat an eye at the prospect of dating someone outside of their race? Will some people still see our family as less-than?

Will people assume my kids claimed some sort of handout because of their minority status, or will they believe my kids when they say they earned their way into a competitive college?

Biracial kids, biracial siblings, biracial brother and sister

And then there’s the tiny voice in my head that tells me I’m worrying for nothing. Is this just my insecurities talking? Will any of this even be an issue in the next decade or two, or am I just concerned for no good reason? Is that tiny voice my optimism, or a likely reality? Maybe I shouldn’t allow these worries to marinate too long.

Maybe it’s time I lead by example, own my confidence and let go of my insecurities. Let go of what people may be thinking, and relish in the knowledge of knowing who I really am.–Even as I wait in the checkout line with two kids on my hip and my wedding ring back at home.


How can I begin to describe the love I have for this man? This man I’ve been married to for 11 years today. Who entered my life 11 years and 6 months ago and has been with me through my entire adult life.

Maybe first I should start by describing him.

If you’ve had the privilege of meeting my husband you know at first he seems quiet. Shy even.

He’s polite and courteous. After an introduction he may stay silent and just observe everyone else. Take it all in in silence. If you know him you’ll know to look for an occasional smirk on his face in the middle of a conversation. He’s not speaking, but he has something to say.

If you know him well you know that’s the time to prompt…

A simple “what?” Will get him going in the conversation, most likely with a bit of sarcastic humor.

He’s funny.

He knows more about sports than anyone I personally know. If you want to strike up a conversation bring up something about sports news. Chances are he’s heard it.



He has a big heart. Our tears are his weakness.
My husband is an excellent father. He’s the one they go to for laughs and rough play. He picks up where I leave off when I travel.

Calling him a hard worker is an understatement. He takes a job very seriously and he gives his all.

He’s honest and extremely loyal. I trust him wholeheartedly and know he will always be there for our family.  For me.

Things aren’t always sunshine roses and fireworks, but it’s always legit. This man is totally mine.

A couple weeks ago we snuggled together on the couch and I asked him if he thought we were soul mates.

“What does that even mean?!” He answered.

“Ugh! Don’t be rude” I sighed in frustration. “How can you not know what soul mates are?”

“I need a definition.”

This is totally typical in our relationship. Me asking the random, philosophical questions, my husband wondering what the crap I’m talking about now. But I appreciate that he really LISTENS to me and doesn’t just say what he thinks I want to hear.

I’m the big dreamer. The one having weekly epiphanies and life-changing ideas. He’s the one cheering me on, and adding a much-needed dose of stabilization to our lives.

“It’s like when two people in the world are just meant for each other.” I made up a definition.

“Yea, I think so.” He replied.

And I think so too.

Happy to be celebrating 11 years with the love of my life.

I’ll never forget a time when I was sitting at the lunch table at school. I was in middle school, either 7th or 8th grade. Like many young girls, we were talking about our crushes. I liked a funny guy who was in our math class. He was really smart, not the cutest guy, but he made me laugh. I’ve always had a thing for that.

Well, he was white, and one of the girls I was sitting with asked me if my parents would care if I had a white boyfriend. It didn’t matter if the guy was white, black or purple my parents didn’t want me to have any boyfriend. So we’d have to keep these relationships on the DL at school.

My white friend then proceeded to tell me that her dad would never let her date a black guy.

“It says in the Bible that we shouldn’t mix,” she told me.

Now I didn’t ask her what verse she was referring to because well, maybe she knew the Bible better than I did, or maybe she chose to interpret things differently. So I brushed it off. I wish I could say that was the only time I heard that sorry excuse for racism but it wasn’t.

Years later, I’ve searched for that scripture she may have been referring to. Maybe it was Deuteronomy Chapter 7:3: 3 -“Neither shalt thou make marriages with them; thy daughter thou shalt not give unto his son, nor his daughter shalt thou take unto thy son.”

Could that be it? Or possibly Leviticus 19:19 – “Ye shall keep my statutes. Thou shalt not let thy cattle gender with a diverse kind: thou shalt not sow thy field with mingled seed: neither shall a garment mingled of linen and woollen come upon thee.”

But are we talking about cattle or people? I’m not sure.

interracial couple

Back then I took a stance I mostly still like I take now regarding religious interpretation. If your religion believes our marriage is wrong then fine, don’t marry someone outside of your race, but don’t stand in the way of mine. Oh, and while you’re entitled to your beliefs, I’m entitled to consider you a racist.

In Georgia, heart of the Bible belt, interracial dating and marriage was taboo. Actually, I don’t know if it’s gotten much better, depending what part of the state you’re in. Every time we visit the stares seem to be less vehement, maybe it’s a sign things are easing up. If you know, let me know!

Ok, I’m going somewhere positive with all of this… Yes, there is a point. Fast forward 17 years from middle school. I went through a few other fake boyfriends and rejections and wound up with a husband who loves me BECAUSE of who I am. Not in spite of. And our differences in race have never, not once in our entire 10.5 years of marriage been a source of conflict between us.

interracial couple

Yea, we may argue about which channel to watch (I am so sick of ESPN) or where to eat, or who has to get up with the kids, but racial issues? No. We are actually pretty darn normal.

It’s hard to imagine our family being seen as anything but that, but less than 50 years ago, our marriage would have been illegal in 16 states. IL-freaking-LEGAL.

You didn’t know you’d be getting a little history lesson today did you?

Short story about the Lovings (Richard and Mildred Loving) … They were an awesome couple, white man and black woman, who were having a baby together. In June of 1958, they left their home state of Virginia and went and got married in Washington D.C.. Well, that was not good enough for Virginia. Police raided the couple’s home at night when they were in bed and they were charged for leaving the state to get an interracial marriage then returning to Virginia.



The trial judge wrote: “Almighty God created the races white, black, yellow, malay and red, and he placed them on separate continents. And but for the interference with his arrangement there would be no cause for such marriages. The fact that he separated the races shows that he did not intend for the races to mix.”

Years later, after being frustrated about not being allowed to travel to visit their families together in Virginia, they began to protest the law.

In 1967 the United States Supreme Court decision Loving v. Virginia struck down all anti-miscegenation laws citing “There can be no doubt that restricting the freedom to marry solely because of racial classifications violates the central meaning of the equal protection clause.”

So now, June 12th is known as Loving Day, the biggest multiracial celebration in the U.S. (I hear they’re making a movie out of their story which will be awesome!)

interracial marriage

Every year, on this day for the past… I don’t know, five or so years I’ve known about this holiday, I’ve took some time to stop and reflect on this little difference we have, and my gratitude for the fact that it doesn’t keep us apart. I can’t imagine not being with my husband because of some stupid law, and people who thought us loving each other was wrong. Just because of our genetics… How we look. Isn’t that ridiculous?

I’m sure back in the 1950 and 60s people were afraid, and they didn’t understand how mixed-races marriages would affect their lives, and their families, schools. Would their kids grow up thinking interracial marriage was ok and normal? Was that what they wanted?

Fear holds us back. Hatred, misunderstanding, and lack of empathy pushing those who love each other away from one another, instead of spending more time just loving one another.

interracial family photos

So how does my interracial family celebrate Loving Day? We don’t throw a big party or bake a cake (though that’s an idea I’m sure my kids would get on board with) we just take some time to talk about the past, the present, and the future. Specifically with families like ours, and other families striving to be.

You don’t need to be in an interracial marriage to celebrate this holiday. It’s something we all can appreciate and share with out families. Looking at how far we’ve come as a people, and how we can continue to do better. I want my kids to lead with love, not hate or fear. I hope we can spread that message together.

interracial family bluebonnets

I’m thankful for the Lovings, as well as the people who backed them up, supported them, and continue to support what they stood for.

I hope you’ll take some time to read a little more about Mildred and Richard Loving and maybe even share the story with your families. You can learn more here and find out about celebrations going on near you.

Happy Loving Day 2015 my friends!

Hi! I’m Jennifer Borget


I'm a part-time journalist, full-time wife and mother striving to make the world a better place and inspiring others to do the same. This is the space where I share my journey in making the most of every day.

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Disney Live Action Movies Ranked and a Free Printable Checklist
5 Reasons to Take Your Kids to a Farmers Market
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Ariel is Black and People are MAD but Here’s Why We are Here for it!
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Why I Let My Kids Watch Dumbo Even Though it’s Pretty Racist