In Different Skin

In a recent New York Times essay in the Modern Love column, Meher Ahmad writes about her struggles with interracial dating growing up in America as an ethnic Pakistani. She shares some compelling anecdotes in the process, but ultimately concludes that her mother was right about dating non-Pakistanis. Of her and her boyfriend, she writes, "we wouldn’t have the relationship we have if he weren’t [brown]."

To be completely honest, my first reaction to the article was surprise. I didn't think that the New York Times would print something that was against interracial dating. But her story is important because it highlights some important truths about a certain type of minority experience in the United States.

One of the first major themes of the article is Ahmad's self-realization that her interest in white boys (or, later, non-brown men) was problematic. (Aside: I think the word "problematic" is a fun, versatile wrapper we use to bundle up problems that involve race but aren't strictly racist.) Why was it problematic? Because social expectations she had set for herself specifically excluded Pakistani love interests. She didn't actually consider whether she'd be happy together with any of the individual Pakistani guys around her. 

A second theme of her article was feeling the need to hide, mask, or otherwise alter parts of her heritage to "fit in" and be attractive to the non-Pakistanis around her in everyday life (e.g. by making terrorist jokes). It's also important to realize that despite having gone through multiple relationships, dating a white boy never helped her overcome the issues she raises in her article. 

What was different for Ahmad about dating a Pakistani man? Well, for one thing they'd have grown up eating the same food and speaking the same language at home. That's largely ignored in this article, however. More importantly, her boyfriend likely grew up in an environment that was much more advantageous for developing a strong self-image. By surfacing her internalized feelings about ethnicity,  they was able to work though many of the ideas Ahmad had unknowingly developed growing up. Although her more-Americanized cultural identity had differences from his more-Pakistani cultural identity, ultimately their core values and personalities made them a good match.

One key takeaway from Ahmed's story is the impact of the media in a multi-cultural society. In her first sentence, Ahmad writes that a single viewing of the movie "Bend it Like Beckham" was enough to "[shape her] romantic preferences for years to come." Though at least in my own reading, it seems that she had a preference for white men even before watching the film. It was just that she didn't envision a future with one until watching the film. She writes, "I knew that I was expected to be with another Pakistani", but once presented with an alternative option -- namely, being in a relationship with a white man accepted by her family -- she immediately jumped to thinking it was "the best of both worlds." 

Unless there's other influences stemming from within the family, members of ethnic minorities who consume mainstream media will likely develop the same aesthetic preferences as members of the ethnic majority. This is how learning works naturally, but stories like Ahmed's quickly reveal that this can play a detrimental role in shaping one's self-worth or self-identity. It's important to understand how to mitigate these problems, since they probably won't disappear on their own. (Increased minority representation is in the media is one solution frequently raised.)

The main reason I wrote this post, though, is because I can understand why Ahmed believes race will always be a thing separating interracial couples.  When I've gone on dates with people who aren't white, I've felt the same way before. I'm not worried that the other person won't understand what it's like to be white -- usually, tv shows and movies have done an okay job with that. But from the conversations I've had and the articles I've read, it seems that growing up as a minority can be a very important, identify-shaping experience. Depending on how strongly that experience has affected someone, would I ever feel like I could truly understand it? Would ethnicity just be one aspect of our relationship, or each time I look them in eyes, would I see my black partner, my hispanic partner, my Pakistani partner?

It's hard to say, I guess, but I'd like to believe that these things depend on the people involved and their individual experiences. Maybe if both people lay all of their thoughts and experiences on the table they really can bridge the race gap. Sure, they still wouldn't be able to change how society treats people of different races,  but that's a broader issue that applies to lots of other things too, like attractiveness, height, and gender. 

At the end of the day, although race can be a separator, it doesn't have to be a large one, or even an important one. For any heterosexual couple, the difference between being experiencing life as man and woman will always be a thing that separates them, at least to some level. But the gender gap isn't an inherently bad or unsurmountable problem for couples. Some people even believe that it's an opportunity for growth. Similarly, we wouldn't claim that heterosexual relationships are fundamentally inferior to homosexual relationships; there are lots of heathy and unhealthy relationships in the world -- heterosexual and homosexual, interracial and otherwise.