“Would you date someone outside of your race?”
Nadine Maxwell peered at Alice over her wineglass following the latter’s question. Having since reconciled over their disagreement earlier that week (being friends since grade school meant they couldn’t live with an impasse between them for too long), the two sat on the floor in Alice’s living room that evening. In advance of the next day’s meeting, it was Alice’s intention to drink away the abundance of nerves that currently consumed her. The idea of meeting the superintendent with a slight hangover paled in comparison to quieting the butterflies that roamed about the entirety of her body.
“That’s certainly an interesting question,” Nadine said.
“Well, would you?”
“I would and I have.”
Alice’s eyes widened. “You have?”
“Sure. In college. He was Asian.”
“Asian? Where was I?”
“Probably holding mock sit-ins at the local diner.”
The two collapsed into endless giggles.
“All right, let’s be serious,” Alice then said. “How—I mean—” Her voice trailed off.
“Alice, I didn’t care that he was Asian,” Nadine said. “He was simply a great guy. That’s the criteria for whoever I end up falling for: if he’s a great guy, that’s all I need. I don’t care where he’s from or what he looks like.”
“But what about someone who understands our culture, people, and our background? Our Black experience?” Alice countered. “Aren’t those things important?”
“They are. And I’ll want to reach a place of understanding about those things, or at least try to come close, and also acknowledge our differences. But if we don’t share the same experience, that’s fine. The essence of the individual is far more important to me.”
She blinked rapidly, astounded by her friend’s words. Could she step outside of her comfort zone? Did she even want to?
“This is about Henry Cooper, isn’t it?” Nadine asked.
“How in the world did you know?”
Nadine laughed. “Oh, my poor friend. He’s been head over heels for you since we were in high school, Alice. Of course, if you didn’t notice the guy I was dating, you wouldn’t notice anything else. He even stayed in Myron because of you. Five years ago, he was offered a job teaching in Atlanta and he turned it down.”
Alice shook her head in disbelief at this revelation. Images of high-school aged Henry Cooper attending her rallies, handing out flyers, attending her speeches flooded her mind, as if a window to the past had been finally unlocked. “I’m blinder than a roomful of bats,” she muttered, a phrase her father was famous for saying. She then recalled Henry’s words.
Stop looking behind you and look right in front of you.
Nadine touched her arm. “Look, Al, you can feel whatever you like. There’s no rule that says you have to return Henry’s feelings. But I also think, in this case, you’re judging a book solely by its cover. And that’s something I know you don’t want to be a part of.”
End it. Make a statement to your students and to the school board that you regret the divisive nature of this endeavor. Abandon this plan or there will be adverse consequences.