Interracial Love Stories

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Interracial Love Story Rachel and Jean-Luc

In fact, an interracial love story is a never-ending one. Interracial couples, at each phase of what for most couples is "normal" in a relationship, face new and challenging questions about their social values, ethics, commitment to one another, and strategy for combating the anti-interracial cloud that hangs over our country--and the world.

That said, I will tell the story of how my husband, a Finch West African from Ivory Coast raised in France, and I, a girl from the suburbs of Philadelphia, met. It was at a reggae concert. I literally saw him from across a crowded room. He was smiling at me, and so I smiled back. When he approached me, I immediately discerned a thick French accent. I speak French, and asked him where he was from. Afraid of a typical white person's reaction to "Africa," he said France. But I knew enough about Africa to say, where are you really from. We hit it off right away. He was happy I knew his country was not some land of huts and loin cloths, and I was happy to be chatted up by this amazing man.

As the weeks went by, I was growing frustrated. I had never dated "outside my race," and had some reservations about it. I was afraid of the stares and hollers we were already getting just hanging out as friends. Also, Jean-Luc wasn't making any romantic gestures toward me, and I was sure it was because he, too, was hesitant to date outside his race. After a few months of this powerful friendship, it was obvious we were soul mates. But Jean-Luc was still not showing any signs of interest in me as a girlfriend, and I was still afraid to cross the color line alone, for fear of causing him discomfort, and for fear of being rejected.

Then one night, Jean-Luc took me out dancing with a bunch of his friends. They brought along a white French girl. As the evening went on, I noticed that Jean-Luc seemed to be flirting with her!! I realized how vain I had been to assume that the only reason Jean-Luc hadn't hit on me romantically was because I was white!! Yet, with our closeness, I was confused and hurt. I marched up to him in the middle of the club, tears in my eyes, and said, "I am sorry if this is going to ruin our friendship. But I think I'm in love with you, and until tonight I was sure it was because you didn't date white women!" Jean-Luc immediately threw his arms around me, laughing his wonderful "Jamaicanesque" laugh, and said "I thought you wouldn't date me because I was black!"
That was in 1995, and since then, after a year and a half of a long-distance relationship and time living together, we were married in September 1999 and had a son--Xavier (actually, Yves-Xavier Masa-Zokala Craig Fanni)--July 12, 2000.

What is funny about the whole story is, white people always assume I had dated only black men, or something, before I married my husband--like, I preferred black men and dated only them. It's such a silly assumption. In terms of family, my liberal family has no problem with their new black son, in fact, they are proud that our family picture represents the values they espouse. Jean-Luc's family is a harder nut to crack. First of all, to most Africans, a wife outside your ethnicity, let alone your race, is regarded as a "joke"--just a phase or a toy. Indeed, men in their culture are expected to at least bare children within their own ethnicity, even if it is outside the marriage. One of our Ivoirien friends tells of his grandmother telling him he is not a man because he has no mistress--his wife is half-Guinean, half French. Jean-Luc says we could never live in Ivory Coast because it would break up the marriage. His family would most likely "encourage" him to cheat to the point that it would be too stressful to maintain a normal life and still get along with his family. Many African women can endure the cheating because they are so accepting of their status in their culture, but Western women (of all races) are often hard-pressed to do so. We plan to raise our son to value both our cultures and races, but also to be skeptical about them, too.

Thanks for the opportunity to tell our story.

P.S. I was threatened yesterday (called a "f---ing ****") and called a "race traitor" by some skinheads wearing confederate flags on their jackets Sunday at Philly's St. Patty's parade. I was with my son. This is another perfect example of my white worldview being expanded--ripped open--to appreciate the view of non-whites in our society. It was terrifying. I was sure we going to be shot.

Love and racism don't mix. Richard Binkley, Jr.

Hello my name is Richard, and this story might be a little shocking. I am a 24 year old white/American In. male mix, I have blonde hair blue eyes and pass easily for white. About five years ago or so when I was still in high school I was your typical racist, not even thinking of my Indian heritage.
When I was 19 I met a very beautiful 17 year old black American girl and fell in love, I will tell you I completely changed my lifestyle. Her name is Erica and Nov. the 18th 1999 it will be 4 years since our first date. I would not trade her for anyone on the planet, and yes I feel we are the ambassadors of our race. Before I met her I thought the way I did about other races because I was following a group of people I would really like to challenge everyone to just be their own person.

I was a racist being over a 1/4 Cherokee Indian, that is really a conflict of interest. Today since I met Erica I am much happier and she has taught me to learn more of my heritage and be proud of who I am. We plan to marry next year around July or august of 2000. Thank You for your time!
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Interracial Love Story Ty and Alana

Love at first sight? Most definitely, yet not in the terms that we have grown accustomed to know over the years. I can remember the first time that my eyes felt at home, the first time that they were blessed with her elegant beauty. I can remember the place down to the smallest of details just off the bay in Annapolis, Maryland. In that peaceful night everything fell into place and fate took a step forward. For I had just for the first time found the woman I would call “My Love” forever.

Alana, that is my angel’s name, gazed right back into my soul, which was the first thing she glimpsed. I was open, exposed. . . and what she felt was what I can only hope to be a deep connection that was shared by myself. I had revealed a person unknown to many, but who I called my true self.

Ironically, on this first night, we were nearly 300 miles separated. “Connected” by what has come to be known as the symbol of our generation, the Internet. That’s right, in what is steadily becoming the language of the world, I first met Alana.

The funniest thing was that neither one of us were really seriously trying to find someone online. We both had people available to date and spend time with. In fact, Alana was a former model! It was more out of fun and curiosity than anything. There was that small chance though, that through some sort of programming magic we would be able to find someone who was unlike anyone we had ever met.

We never even shared a spoken word that first night. When I came across the most amazing and precious eyes I have ever witnessed, I was looking at an online personal add And when she first glimpsed upon my soul, she was reading the heart-felt words of my first e-mail. Two phone calls and three days later I found myself standing in front of a large carousel surrounded by laughing children and joyful parents holding a simple, single red rose. Waiting anxiously to meet this beautiful woman I had come to know, a sense of peace fell over me and from around the bend appeared she. With long braided hair and eyes that you only dream about appeared the answer to my every prayer, a vision of perfect beauty. From the shape and curves of her soft face that you can tell the daylight simply adores by the beauty it reflects, to the depth and truth and soulfulness revealed from just one look into her twinkling brown eyes. I was immediately taken by her and amazed that this woman I had come to love just from her words contained just as much beauty on the outside as within, a true miracle of God!

I would later learn and I am hesitant to add that her first impression was slightly less surreal. She remembers glancing at me and thinking, “He looks short!” Although I stand 6’3” tall, Alana was nearly eye-to-eye with me adding high heels to her 5’11” frame.

After a short walk around the park we decided to head to the restaurant, an elegant selection recommended to me by a few friends. We were seated and began glancing over the appetizers when we came to the realization that we were the youngest ones there. Not only by a few years, but by what we could only guess to be nearly forty years! Looking for a little livelier atmosphere we politely excused ourselves and began our search for a new place. After dismissing the elegant Italian place due to no available parking and the next romantic venue due to long wait times, we found ourselves dining over chicken strips and french-fries at Ruby Tuesday’s. It was a hit. We laughed and talked, ranted and raved and saw just how much fun each others company could be.

I have lived in a dream ever since that wonderful night. I had always believed in fairy tails and the Lord was rewarding me for my faith. Sure we have had our obstacles. For one Alana is black and I am white. Although we see nothing but each other’s heart when we glance upon the other, the world still has a little catching up to do. And even though we try to not let it interfere with the relationship there is an age difference of six years between the two of us. It’s strange, most people would see this as a barrier, but in a way we have learned to thrive off of it. Alana has turned out to be my best friend, the love of my life, and my greatest teacher. In return, I keep her on her feet and light at heart with my youthful enthusiasm. We have the most perfect way of completely complimenting each other in every aspect of our lives.

But what has come to be one of the greatest gifts that come along with such a wonderful person like Alana is her beautiful son, Michael. A two year old wonder whose bright smile and twinkling eyes are a true reflection of his mother. He too will some day light up the world and will no doubt make a powerful impact. He is already so smart and such a delight to have around. I have come to love him as my own and consider myself so fortunate to have been touched by his life.

So there you have it, the story of us. Now I live knowing that I have found my other half, my better half, and that I will truly be happy for the rest of my life because of Our Love. Very soon we will find ourselves hand in hand, gathered in front of our family and friends. I dream of the moment that we will be locked in a tender moment, our lips embraced, as we are pronounced as man and wife for the very first time.

Interracial Love Story Harlin and Kendra's Story

Kendra and I met in college back in late-1994, and we were as opposite as black and white (rim shot, please). We couldn't stand each other...there was literally nothing that we could find in common. In early 1995, we were in a radio class together since we were both studying radio and broadcasting. Her main interest was in radio management. Anyway, in spite of a "tough girl" attitude she showed, she was really a tender lady at heart. I didn't know nor care to know about it at the time, but I would eventually learn that fact. She thought that I was a "naive geek" since I wasn't into all the popular music and other things that were pop culture at the time. However, it would be an unexpected song we both were familiar with that would "break the ice". And the funny part is...it wasn't even a popular love song.

Kendra and I are both Christians, even though she wasn't living her faith at the time. While she was playing the latest in dance mixes in a practice "radio station" in our classroom, I was playing Contemporary Christian Music. No one in the classroom knew the songs I was playing...except her. And the one song that she really got into was a late-80's tune by Michael W. Smith called, "Secret Ambition", a song about Jesus' life and purpose on earth. The hook in that song goes, "Nobody knew His secret ambition...was to give his life away." Kendra was singing along with that song while the rest of the class was looking dazed and confused, wondering what I was playing. After the class, Kendra approached me, and asked if I was a Christian. I told her, "yes", and she apologized for her initial views of me. She understood why I wasn't into all the "pop-culture" stuff that she was into. That was the start of what would ultimately come out to be a "be-you-tiful friendship."

A couple of classmates of ours decided to inadvertently play cupid on us, as they were telling us individually that the other wanted to go out with the other person. I, as gullible as I was, approached Kendra and asked her to go out with me to dinner after class. She initially responded with "I'm going home to ride my bike...WHY?!?!?!?!?" I then basically made a deal with her...I told her that I was willing to treat her to dinner. If she enjoyed my company, then great. If not, then at least she gets a free dinner. After frantically asking classmates whether or not she should take me up on my offer, she agreed. We went to a Bennigan's in downtown Chicago, and the night went well; as she did something she very rarely did with men at that time...she gave me her phone number. I lost it over the upcoming weekend, but we saw each other again the following Monday. By Wednesday, we shared our first of what would be many kisses.

We would get engaged in 1996, and marry in 1998. During our time together, we knew that our racial differences would not be met with opposition by some, but with support from more than enough people around us. Fortunately, both of our families were supporting our relationship on racial grounds. There were NO problems from either side in the areas of a black man dating/marrying a white woman. My father briefly mentioned a concern, but I was able to explain to him that real love knows no color. Kendra and I deepened our convictions over the years that we cannot allow society to dictate to us what is acceptable dating. Yes...there are people who either silently or outwardly reject our union based on race. However, our God is greater than that rejection, and it was His will for us to be together. He is using us to strengthen, sharpen, and encourage each other. And now...we're a family of 3.

When Josh was born, I cried when I held him for the first time. Joshua is such a blessing, and I rejoice that he is in our lives. He's such a beautiful boy, and I thank God for him. May any future children be blessed with such love and beauty. They'll have a mom and dad who will love and nurture them with all their being. They'll also have a mom and dad who will teach them that their skin color is should not be treated as a barrier to whatever their dreams in life are. People around them will use it as an excuse to create an obstacle, but by the strength and grace of our Almighty Father, they will break through those walls and set a standard of excellence that will be the example for generations of children of all skin colors to follow.
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Love at the Edge of Life>>>>P.B.S Love story

I met Rachel at a party and we fell right into a close connection. At the end of the evening, while discussing possible New Year's Eve plans, Rachel confessed she may not be up to going out. She explained, "For the past 2 years, I've been having fun with ovarian cancer."

For the 2 years before that, I'd been volunteering one day a week in a 28-bed hospice ward as part of my spiritual practice. I knew at once how serious Rachel's illness was, and I was sensitive to my own urge to run. But we really liked each other, and over the next two months, slowly and carefully, we fell in love.
Many of my friends were dubious of my taking on the hard work and heartache obviously ahead. But when they got to know Rachel, they loved her too, and supported us loyally throughout the last year and a half of Rachel's life.

During the first several months of our relationship, Rachel underwent radiation for the third recurrence of cancer. We functioned well as patient and caregiver because we'd both had practice! This radical difference in our roles didn't hamper our relationship,though, because my time with the hospice had taught me to see the essential person inside the illness, and not to be afraid in the presence of suffering.

My family had long accepted my being a lesbian, and within a few hours of meeting Rachel, they also accepted her into the family enthusiastically.

Rachel often remarked, "I can't believe how lucky I am to meet you at this point in my life. I just wish I weren't at this point in my life." Despite the radiologist's pessimism, the treatments (or love) obliterated Rachel's mass. For over a year, all her tests were normal, and we were able to travel, garden and dance together. We built a foundation of trust and joy that enabled her to talk through her fears and grief, and to let me take care of her when, a year later, her fourth and final recurrence slowly crippled her.

Despite Rachel's disabilities, though, I never saw her as a sick person. She was always the witty, sensitive and vivacious woman who charmed me at that party. Just as she often said she wanted, I cared for her at home in the short six days when she was bedridden, and she died with no sign of fear or pain with her hand in mine, looking right into my eyes.

I think we were able to form such an intimate and trusting bond so quickly because we both knew how short, and precious, our time together was. Sometimes, now, I wonder if having a new love so close to the end of her short (41 years) life made it harder for Rachel to accept death. But my heart, my friends and my family all say it was obviously a love meant to be. And she died the way she always said she wanted to, surrounded by love.
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