This rattles her even though she is married to a Native American.Bracing for more interracial couplings Miles brings the statistics about interracial marriage and black men to life by relating this trend to a typical, yet important, dating ritual: taking a serious partner home for the holidays.
I was weird: into books, writing, big ideas and sad movies. I met someone in the midst of finding my voice on the page: I fell in love with my teacher. There was something about his eyes, his words, which reached right into the heart of me and made my pain and beauty feel witnessed. He didn’t know how white women followed me around in stores, or how people judged me on the street. But he got the heart of me: that sometimes I stare off in the distance thinking about my mother’s small hands, or how much I miss my grandmother’s smell. I cry when I read about another Indian girl going missing, and that’s something. My son’s hair is light brown and his eyes are a special type of gray, still trying to decide what they are.
He was hapless, a thinker, goofy, with a big head like mine and a ton of weird interests, but he was white. It was profound, and everything I could hope for in a man, but the problem was he wasn’t Native. I finally understand my sister’s struggle when she’d take her mixed children shopping, and people mistook her for the kid’s maid. But my sons aren’t any less loveable for being mixed, and while one is darker than the other, both of them will have a right to sing the songs of my nation and stand with me in honor.
As the Crane dance went on usually a young man would see a woman that did strike his fancy.
Unlike our current dating customs, the native American dating customs required that the young man speak to his mother who then would speak to the mother of the girl he was interested in.
She is a widely published writer, and the founder and editor-in-chief of Urban Native Magazine.