From a biological standpoint, interracial marriages actually strengthen the human gene pool. Anthropologically speaking, interracial dating is a process of acculturation: adapting to another person’s cultural values while retaining your own. In other words, the easiest way to expand your cultural horizons is to date someone from another culture.
Personally, I find that interracial dating has been unnecessarily complicated by society. When you break interracial dating down to its basics, it becomes as simple as the chemistry between the two lovers.
I am Taiwanese-American. I have been dating a beautiful young man of Swedish descent for almost a year and a half now. As with any other romantic relationship, there are the many highs and the common lows to make our romance one hell of a ride. If anything, I find our love to be infinitely more complicated and complex than why I am attracted to my boyfriend and vice versa. At the beginning of our relationship, I subconsciously expected “us” to be taken as a temporary anomaly by the general Georgetown community. Georgetown is not only purported to have a “cold” dating scene, but Georgetown students also tend to group themselves along racial lines. However, what I have discovered is that Georgetown students, as a whole, are quite an accepting bunch. Of course, I can only refer to their public passivity towards acceptance of my love affair; but their response has definitely been tamer than I originally expected.
Ever since I have been aware of the opposite sex (since the tender age of five), I have been more likely to befriend and develop crushes on males who are not Chinese than males who are. This tendency of mine can most likely be attributed to the way Chinese men are traditionally brought up and to my fear of seeing their parents as potential in-laws. Not surprisingly (for me, at least), those students who do give me the questioning glances or the raised-eyebrow stares are the ones of East Asian descent?in other words, people like me. Although gender relations in Chinese society are certainly less archaic than they used to be, I am not entirely convinced that Chinese parents have given up on their duty to raise super sons.
I don’t want to marry a super son. I am my own super woman.
Although Chinese men are not your run-of-the-mill macho men, many of them are still raised to see themselves as the “big man” and me as a “little woman.” This debilitating syndrome has been a personal issue of mine for many years. Historically, Chinese women have been raised to be obsequious, out-of-sight-out-of-mind creatures expected to scurry about their own homes like the shoemaker’s magic elves. Of course, I am exaggerating, and yes, gender equality has made remarkable headway in Chinese society but not enough for me to see myself as the respectable young woman a traditional set of parents would want under their roof. Why not?
For the same reasons I will only marry someone who can cook, clean, and soothe my unpredictable outbursts: because I cannot cook, I refuse to clean and I am a volatile creature.
(Would it be overly presumptuous of me to suggest that I am saving my people from myself?)
Ethnocentricity (the belief in the superiority of one’s own ethnic group) is definitely the more, if not the most, formidable obstacle standing between interracial couples. In my case, my father is my greatest frustration. He is firmly grounded in the belief that my livelihood needs to be anchored to a smart, wealthy Chinese engineer from the Silicon Valley. I often wonder if he’s really looking out for my welfare or for his own. When I consider my relationship from his perspective, I can see where he is coming from. He’s a traditional man with conservative values. He wants his future son-in-law to be able to celebrate the Chinese New Year on the same level that we do; to respect his parents and in-laws enough not to ship them off to a home in their old age; and to have been conscious, since birth, of his role as the man of the household?as the ultimate provider.
Basically, my father expects me to marry a man much like himself. If only I could present him with a list of all the wonders that are my boyfriend. It’d go something like this ?
1. He writes me songs.
2. He sings me songs.
3. He writes me poems.
4. He cooks (amazingly well!).
5. He cleans.
6. He is a calming force in my turbulent life.
7. And he is over six feet tall.
It’s been a trial trying to clarify for my Chinese supremacist of a father why I adore my “Swedey.” He is convinced that my boyfriend is merely another one of those growing pains that will pass soon enough. One of these days, he assures himself, I will see the light and the fine Chinese man at the end of the tunnel. Although my father’s attitude can be incredibly deflating at times, I remind myself that my parents are not the only ones who are concerned with my welfare; I am as well. No matter what sort of a romantic relationship you’re in, all you need to remember is that ultimately, you’re the final authority on who you love and how you love.
