by Diane Farr
Why don’t I remember this being as good as it sounds hearing it again now?
“Because The Crow finally let me in the damn house, and yeah, yeah, yeah, she tried her best to put on her happy face and be mannerly and decent. But it was clear she could have choked at any moment,” says Natalia. From here until the spring of the following year, Jake’s mother would invite Natalia to group events and act like she was not repulsed by her presence. Until, finally, Natalia got frustrated.
“I’m not an ex-con who’s rebuilding a life. I’m accomplished and successful. Why is she ‘trying’? And why are we giving her credit for it? I was damn tired of her behavior at this point and also over my own animosity with his family. They are the ones missing out on being friends with me. They have wasted the opportunity. I always knew Jake and I would make it—I just wasn’t sure if his mother would. I still think she might drop dead from a heart attack on her way to our wedding.”
Natalia did set new boundaries for herself and Jake in their future together from that point forward. She told Jake that if they have children, they will be black. “And I do not feel safe that your mother will not say awful things to them,” she told him. “What happens if my child is with their grandmother and asks, ‘Why is your skin different from mine?’ How can I possibly trust her to say anything smart or reasonable when she has never displayed those things to her children or to me?”
To which Jake responded they could make any boundary with his mother that Natalia needed. Which is so wonderful. And romantic in its own way. But it also puts the pressure on Natalia, because if she closes his family out, then she is the bad guy. Yet if she continues to let them into her and Jake’s life, they don’t seem to be afraid to do or say all kinds of hurtful things to her.
“I hate it when people say, ‘But you are not marrying his family.’’Cause you are,” she concludes.
Now I’m speechless. I’m no longer frightened about the hurdles of my interracial marriage in theory, but I’m frightened about the actual situation I am in right now. Natalia and I are both engaged women and our fiancés’ families would love to send us on a wrongrace-girlfriend cruise through the Bermuda Triangle. Natalia fights all her battles in private and conducts herself admirably in the face of the people shunning her, yet she’s treading water. There is no forward movement, and I am afraid “standing still” at this phase of her relationship, which is not being allowed to move forward by the constraints of her future mother-in-law, is going to exhaust her. So what is all the diplomatic behavior really yielding her?
Wait a minute! I know Natalia had a “come-to-Jesus talk” with her mother-in-law, in which she got to call her out on all her bad behavior. In fact, the last time we spoke she said she could finally feel at peace having children with Jake because of it. So I’m asking, really begging, Natalia to remind me how that went and if that changed things.
“It only changed things for me.”
Two days after Jake proposed, Natalia got a call from someone saying, “Congratulations! Are you so excited?” Natalia said yes and asked who was calling. When the caller responded, “Your future mother-in-law, Salome,” Natalia’s jaw dropped.
Salome was calling to get Natalia’s mother’s phone number.
“Um, no. I don’t think so,” Natalia responded. “What’s your schedule like next week?”
Natalia made a date with Jake’s mother to flat-out tell her, “You have not done the right thing by me in three years. You do not get to try to befriend my mother. She knows who you are and is fiercely defensive of me and is well aware of how you have treated me. She is not going to be interested in talking to you.”
But The Crow had her own plan. She invited Natalia to the house and had food and drinks waiting, and when Natalia arrived, she talked about herself for most of the afternoon.
When Natalia finally found an opening two hours later, she gave Salome a piece of her mind. She confessed her reason for coming and proceeded to tell her everything she intended to. And at first, Salome acted like that was just old news.
“As if I had been pledging their family for all these years and now we’re gonna kiss and make up on hell night? Oh no, lady. You can’t go from zero to sixty without addressing the past. Nor do these appetizers make up for all the previous meals I was barred from in this house.”
Finally, Jake’s mother said it can be a very difficult thing when your child is in a relationship with someone who is different—and Natalia jumped in to stop the next line of pretense. She asked if Salome was now going to speak to “different” like her other daughter-in-law, who is also of a different race and religion from her, or “different” like this—and Natalia put her finger to her own forearm, pointing to her skin.
Jake’s mother said, “I guess I didn’t handle myself in the best way.”
So, five hours after she arrived, Natalia held fast that her future mother-in-law not call her parents and ignore all the years she failed to even get to know Natalia. She said if she had any real interest in her and her son’s future with her, she could put the time in now.
All the laughter has left our table. And I’m not sure why. I hate to ask, but I really don’t get why this feels so ... empty suddenly.
“‘I guess I didn’t handle myself in the right way’ was the most I ever got. That day felt really forced and it continues to feel really forced. There was no ‘I’m sorry.’ No real change of heart or in behavior. She did not have an epiphany before she called me to end the standoff, nor did she have one after I came clean. She would have gone right on pretending. But after a few days, the junk was still there. And two years later, I still haven’t gotten what I need to have anything real with anyone in Jake’s family. The difference is, they know where I’m at now. But nothing has changed.”
But something is different. It seems to me that having said her piece, Natalia no longer has the right to fight about the inconsistencies she feels in Jake’s family. She is no longer banned, but the way she’s included isn’t particularly welcoming, either. Now if she complains, she seems problematic or like she can’t let go of the past. So the hurt is still there, but the right to take action has been removed. And finally I see why I am afraid to fight. Because absolutely nothing will change about why I am “not the right choice” for Seung, but if I were to call out any of his aunts or uncles on the obvious subtext when I am given lessons on “why I must understand how hard life has been for Korean people and how much I should value their culture or my marriage will fail” (literally I was told this at a dinner once), then I will have exposed myself to them. And nothing will change but I will still have to, silently, put up with the “subtext” forever after.
“You know, we hang politicians if they use the ‘N-word’ or don’t openly condemn those who do. Racial profiling by law enforcement is judged and shamed and bad and all that. Yet if a parent tells a child that ‘black people aren’t good enough to love,’ that is just overlooked. Let me say it out loud, so it is perfectly clear: That is racism. Even if you only say it in your own damn house.”
Natalia is a thick-skinned girl. And so am I. And sometimes anger is the only way people like us know how to show hurt. “I could punch somebody, I get so mad sometimes. I don’t deserve this. All I wish for with them is ease. I see relationships where the guy’s family is decent and respectful to someone they wouldn’t have necessarily picked for their son or brother, and I wonder why I don’t at least deserve that. This weekend was the original date I set for my wedding, and I’m sitting here talking with you. I will marry him, but I hate them for all the dis-ease they have caused in me.”
* OF COURSE, IT’S A BLESSING THAT NATALIA didn’t feel or confront this kind of prejudice until her thirties, because her terrific family had all that time to give her every resource to be the shining star she is, which in turn allows her to fight like hell for the man she loves. But perhaps even more important than Natalia’s ability to articulate her feelings and fight when necessary to defend them is that eve
n in the face of another’s judgment Natalia still knows her own value. And maybe this is the gift that I should take away and model from her, rather than good ways to redress my anger.
Specifically, perhaps I should hold myself up to my highest standard, rather than fight with someone else on their playing field. After Natalia’s brush with prejudice, when she was belittled by Princess Michael, she told her off in hopes of not lying awake in bed for three days. Yet she lay awake for exactly that long nonetheless. And as much as Natalia and Jake have made a cocoon around their life together to keep them safe from his family, I see that Natalia is still victimized by their duplicitous actions, even after having her say. So firing back does not seem to win the long-term battle. In fact, it might only yield a quick fix that then leaves your arsenal exposed forever.
Not that I believe Natalia has disabled herself in any way. But even she says, “Sometimes this could cripple me, but I don’t let it. The most important part of our relationship is ‘us.’ Yes, I get anxious and don’t want to go before we do anything with his family, but when we are there, Jake and I hold hands and kiss and reinforce for each other that we are what’s important. No one would ever know anything was ever wrong.”
But that’s only because Natalia is smart enough to be honest with her boyfriend and tell him she can only last about one hour in his family’s company. She has to stifle herself so much that nothing gets in or out, so seventy minutes is literally Jake and Natalia’s limit in his mother’s house.
In my heart, I know that Natalia would love an apology from Judah, so they could be friends again. And a kind word from any of the other siblings addressing their or their mother’s behavior toward Natalia and Jake would go a long way. And although I laugh at the well-crafted jokes that make us feel better about bad-mouthing The Crow, now I see nothing but pain behind them. And I wish I could hug my tough-ass friend and tell her to let it all go before these other people’s shortcomings take hold of her and never let go. But I don’t want to belittle Natalia and pretend that’s easy, when I can’t even do it myself. Especially when her situation feels much more hurtful than my own.
Natalia leaves me with these parting words:
“When I look at myself, Diane, I see very specific things: I see shoes, an outfit, and a cute face. And all of this has been such a blow to my ego because it never occurred to me that other people see something else when they look at me. That they see something entirely different. That some people look at me and see Aunt Jemima. Or the maid. Or the help. And it wasn’t a pain-in-the-ass royal who taught me that. It was Jake’s mother. The grandmother of my future children. She is the one who stabbed me in the heart.”
CHAPTER 10.
THEY WILL NOT BE JUDGED FOR ME
“What are you doing with a gun?”
—SEUNG CHUNG ON THE DAY WE PICKED UP OUR WEDDING BANDS
I’VE HIRED A COACH.
I know I need another tool to possibly find peace for myself, and it has to be something “proactive” that I can do instead of keeping score about who says what to me. The closest thing I have to a “plan” for combating the attitude I get from Seung’s family looks exactly like Natalia’s. That is, to always behave “appropriately” around damning family members, so as not to give them ammunition, but be as honest as I possibly can with my man and make a game plan together on how to handle each hurdle.
But I’m haunted by the idea of my friend Natalia playing all her cards right for five years—by facing every truth with Jake and never slinging mud in the pit his mother is fighting her in—and her still feeling hurt, angry, and vulnerable. Not to mention that she is not yet married and her wedding plans are stymied due to his family. This last part is particularly pressing to me because I have a date set and have not yet found middle ground for how to deal with Seung’s relatives. And it’s only six months away.
To try to “clear the brush” to find my path, I keep reminding myself of the following things every day: (1) The people I feel belittled by are not Seung’s parents; (2) although these aunts and uncles are the ones I see and interact with most, this is only due to a common language and location; and (3) the aunts’ and uncles’ disapproval of me, or of Seung’s marrying me, has to do with their wants for their own children—not me. This leaves me with one conclusion: The prejudice I feel from the older members of his family is not my burden to carry.
Only I do feel like it is my burden. Or at least I have some responsibility in it. I don’t feel comfortable saying nothing while someone says, “Some races are not okay/worthy/acceptable for us to love.” I fought my own mother on this and she came around a long time ago. However, I understand that I can’t fight anyone else’s mother, or aunts, on anything. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to change people’s views.
I get that the best way to right the wrong of stereotypes is to continually rise above them. Which, of course, is a lot of damn work to do in hopes of changing something that is not supposed to be “my burden.” I’m also stuck because I want to tell myself these people are not important—but they are important. They are my fiancé’s relatives. Which brings me all the way back to the beginning of this circle: To care or not to care? To fight or not to fight? So I try to remember my three notes to self, until I get so annoyed one morning while trying to meditate on these thoughts.
I’m supposed to go wedding dress shopping with my mother today. She’s flown all the way to Los Angeles from New York City to partake in this ritual with me, and I’m wasting our time together venting about people who don’t like me. Why the hell? And more important, if I’m going to spend time thinking about the other people involved in Seung’s and my life and wedding, who do I want to think about?
My parents, who are thrilled that I am marrying Seung, and Seung’s parents, who are thrilled that he is marrying and don’t mind that it is me.
Hmm. I can’t really say that they are thrilled about me, but they also don’t really know me. I think they are hoping to know me. And they have completely let go of the fact that I’m not of their culture and will let Seung and me lead any kind of life we want. But I love their culture. I love the holidays, the food, the spirit, the dedication to education and travel, as well as the electronics and the luggage. I can’t wait to see the country and celebrate all the rituals his culture has to offer—in our wedding and with our children. But, of course, Seung’s parents don’t know that. So maybe I need to find a way to further a relationship with them?
Thus, the coach.
* SEUNG AND I GO ON THESE DATES THAT I CALL “famous Asian night.” Los Angeles has one of the highest concentrations of Asian Americans anywhere in the country, and the largest group of Koreans anywhere in the world outside of Seoul. Of course, it has lots of artists, too. So naturally, Seung and I have become friends with many Asian actors and TV personalities. There are dinners we attend with this group of friends where one member of every couple is on television. And I am often the only dinner guest who is not Asian.
We both feel especially close to Karl Yune. Karl is of Korean descent but did not speak the Korean language growing up. For months before a world tour of perhaps the second-largest Asian American book turned film, Memoirs of a Geisha, Karl worked every day to learn Korean before going there to promote the film as an actor in it. We got to see his hard work in action when he spoke fluently to a waitress one night while we were all eating in a tiny K-town restaurant. Just a year earlier he could hardly order his own food. When Seung got up to take a call, I asked Karl for the number of his language coach. While typing her details into my phone, I asked if Karl thought she could teach me some things about the culture, especially things that would help me with my wedding and impending trip to Seoul. Karl said nothing but gave me his million-dollar smile. In a mock accent he told me, “You will make a gooood Korean wife, Di-han!”
I meet with Un-Nee (which translates to “big sister” and is what she has instructed me to call her) three times a week for two-hour sessions, unbeknownst to Seung,
for three months before our wedding.
At our first meeting, I give her a typed page and a tape recorder. I have printed out a speech I would like to give to my future in-laws on the day of my wedding. I ask Un-Nee if she can translate it and record her voice saying the speech; I will learn the sounds and commit it to memory on my own time. Un-Nee agrees but feels her language and mine are so far apart that I might be better served by her teaching me some other Korean basics first so that the sounds might come more easily to me in my memorization process.
I smile at my new big sister, because I’m just now realizing that my proactive and positive choice of how to embrace Seung’s parents will simultaneously knock the rest of the family on their asses when all their “very important cultural secrets” are exposed and executed—correctly.
THERE ARE SIXTEEN WAYS to say “aunt” and “uncle” in Korean and four different ways for me to address cousins, which are all very important in showing respect to family members. There are another four ways I should address women and men whom I am not related to. There are two different ways to say goodbye, determined by whose house I’m leaving. There are age- and gender-appropriate gifts that I must bring to each of Seung’s relatives whom I will meet while in Korea. I have a separate bag already packed for my trip to Seoul—with everything I’m collecting here for every possible visit there. Once in country, there are two appropriate ways for me to accept anything that is handed to me (including a wedding gift), and there are three different ways to bow. And I know ’em all.
Across Asia, people bow instead of shaking hands. For people my age, the various bows have all lost their meaning in today’s world, much like the meaning of a handshake to Americans my age. A handshake was about the removal of a sword from your right hand to offer friendship with it. And a bow was about lowering your head below another’s heart to recognize and honor it.
