Jolly ol' Brits, and Les Frenchies

Lovey Loverpants and I took a spring break trip to London and Paris to celebrate the gestation period of our marriage. Nine months after our most happy day, our lives are still full of laughter and mirth and without a honeymoon baby (which afforded us the time and money to take a spring break trip). As an interracial couple, traveling anywhere foreign usually proves to be an interesting case study. We do not usually receive stares on our subway rides in Boston or questioning glances in the supermarket. Our home of Boston is fairly diverse in terms of race and attitudes toward interracial marriage. London and Paris, however, did not seem to share the same landscape of diversity. We received many looks of interest from subway passengers or from passersby as we ambled along holding hands. In shoppes/boutiques, women looked at John as though he was unattached (probably carefully waiting for his Asian counterpart to latch on to his arm momentarily). Upon presenting our passports to customs agents, the agents typically raised an eyebrow to our striding up to the desk together.

"You are traveling together?"


Surely upon seeing our common last names on our passports, even more curiosity was piqued since we are not only of different race, but both appear to be too young to vote much less marry. I am probably just hyperaware.

We saw 1 or maybe 2 interracial couples during our weeklong trip. They seemed to be happily strollering their beautiful mixed babies around their metropolitan burroughs/arrondissements. I wondered what kinds of discrimination or prejudices they faced in their experiences as interracial couples, and what kinds of experiences their mixed children would encounter in their young lives.

While we are never fully comfortable in our so-called comfort zones - there will always be a disapproving Asian grandma averting her eyes to our reality - I am yet undaunted by the minefield of racial prejudice. My comfort comes from a love that is not colorblind but color aware. My love for my husband is informed by all the colors of his personality, his talents, his cultural keenness which enrich my life and will hopefully enrich the lives of our future children. Those children whom we will hopefully someday bring to London, to Paris, to other cities and countries and continents where attitudes toward race are distinct from our own. It is my hope that our children will have an even more acute perception on where their comfort lies, and that it may not be shaken but rather emboldened by understanding other races, cultures which make our world a rather beautiful place indeed.

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