This post will be a random turn from the norm since it is neither about food or travel, nor music or movies.
It is about men.
As a rule my personal life (read: love life) will not be mentioned on this site unless I start planning a wedding (don’t hold your breath). But this is just too great for words.
For some background before the onslaught of images– I am black (shocker, I know from the pictures) and Southern, so the Jewish population was practically nonexistent in my town in Mississippi. I think we had one family of 3 boys who played soccer (be still, my heart). My parents did me the favor (or fault) of placing me in private school for the first 9 years of my schooling. This led to my being socialized with a bunch of White WASPs, and my already bookish quality merely added more to that influence.
When puberty hit, It became clear that I was set for a teenage life of singleness b/c no one wanted to date the black girl. I know, I know, tragic story. At that point, I started reading everything I could on the civil rights movement, the Harlem Renaissance, and the Holocaust, Pograms, etc. I was fascinated by another group of people horribly marginalized throughout the Western World, and was curious about people who besides for having interesting sounding names couldn’t necessarily be picked out of a crowd of White people and yet were still targets for all sorts of nasty feelings. Also the interface of ethnicity and religion and culture fascinate me. I hope it is also not too trite, that being a practicing Christian makes Jewishness very important me, given that 3/4 of what I believe is direct tied to Judaism and Jewish thought.
It only seemed fitting to me that we all–Jews and Blacks should be the best of friends.
Of course it is not that easy.
Fast forward to college and the rest of my adult life, in which I am now surrounded by Judaism on a regular basis (the joys of medicine—especially neurology) and Philadelphia, and it is highly amusing. To make it funnier, my very devoutly Christian Mother is somehow fixated on me marrying a Jewish man. I don’t know how she thinks this is going to work, but it is something she is really into.
As my luck would have it, if given a line up of men and told to pick the one I find attractive, 9 times out of 10 he will end up being Jewish. It’s painful really, since usually I am the exact opposite of what he is looking for. HAH! And so I have accepted my fate of being ever drawn to these men with whom I will click with intellectually, socially, professionally, but alas—their mothers might have coronaries if they bring me home.
With no further ado, I leave homage to one sort of man who makes my heart skip a beat.