In 2012, Steven James Dixon, relationship expert and author, wrote a short piece titled, “Why I Married a Black Woman” for Essence. In it Dixon, a black man, lists a string of reasons why he “had to have me a sister”, most of which pointed to cultural similarities. He wants to marry “someone who understands that Thanksgiving means collard greens, cornbread, peach cobbler and honey ham” or his need to have “somebody to watch Love Jones with me.”
The article was most helpful towards the end, in its exhortation to black men and our relationships with black women. Dixon tells black men, “when you attack the Black woman, you attack yourself. When you look at her, you should see your mother, your sister, your aunt, your niece, your likeness.”
But I thought what preceded this conclusion painted a monolithic picture of black women and black men, for that matter. It assumed cultural preferences and unintentionally defines what being black means.
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