I call to them
No Tears for the Mixed Girl
Ibiza, In Love
I am 20 and in Ibiza, Spain with my boyfriend I plan on marrying. We are at his French parents’ house. It’s a dinner party with a Western theme and I’ve been asked to make enchiladas because I’m from New Mexico. There is a Texan among us at the table of mostly French and Spanish.
“What are you, darlin’?” asks the Texan.
“I’m mixed,” I tell him, “My mother is Black and Chinese, my father is Jewish.”
Suddenly the table goes quiet and after the angel has passed, the mother of my fiancé asks, “So, risk having Black children?” (That angel was my dead, Black grandmother.)