Peace! I’ve been absent for a few weeks. Sorry about that. I’m doing good, just trying to downsize, and I’m living in more chaos than usual. I’ve been thinking about you though, and I’m sorry I left you hanging. Truthfully, I’m trying to finish this darn book, and it’s sooo hard to let go of!
This weeks blog, which picks up where my last one leaves off, continues the conversation about why our hero and heroine should be together. My man Tan is so earnest and convincing. I also give a little snippet into Sinna’s personality that I think is important to help you understand her cool demeanor better.
Any who, I hope you enjoy it. Drop me a line and let me know what you think!
The picture, you already know. Throwbacks of my baby Joonie, South Korean actor Park Seo Jun/Joon. He just had a cameo on this Netflix drama I’m watching with Park Bo Gum called “Record of Youth.” Le sigh…
“I know there are a lot of things about the Korean culture that are –” he paused, obviously searching for the right words. “Not easy for an African-American woman.”
Her facial expressions routinely portrayed how ridiculous she found Koreans fascination with her Blackness. Logically she understood it, but she still refused to entertain it. For instance, she allowed no one to touch her, not even admiringly. She made no apology when she calmly knocked hands away from her hair or body, saying, “I did not give you permission to touch my person. And in this no touch culture your behavior is particularly offensive.” And she never answered any questions that she felt were silly or related to her “otherness.”
“Google it if you’re interested,” he heard her say once, “I’m working.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just answer their questions, darling?” He asked.
“Maybe, but I don’t want to. I’m not being paid to educate the curious, and I’m not a representative for every black woman walking the earth.
“The internet is a living, breathing, thing. K-pop in particular is ridiculously influenced by Black culture and Black music. The fact that no one bothered to find out the answers to these questions they’re peppering me with suggests a marked lack of respect that I will not indulge or support.”
“They mean no harm, darling.”
“You don’t know that, Tan,” she said quietly. “I think it’s very harmful that I have to endure these questions at my age, in my workplace, in 2020. I don’t care if you think it’s not done with ill intent. These are microaggressions.
“These aren’t small children who are genuinely curious about my skin and hair. They’re adults, and these aren’t nuanced, complex questions where they need a firsthand Black perspective. They’re not asking for my experiences or my thoughts. They’re wasting my time with stupid, stereotypical bullshit that if they wanted to know so badly, they’d find out, or God forbid, just fucking think!”
“You’re very smart, my girl,” he said soothingly.
She sniffed. “Yes, I am.”
“But not always very accommodating.”
“No, I’m not. And that’s why I’m the best,” she told him, and walked away.
“She’s a gangster,” said Bik, who’d been listening.
Yes, she is. But what are microaggressions?
No idea. Let’s look it up!
“Some of our rules and ways must seem ridiculous to an independent-minded American,” he said now. “But no place is perfect. That includes America. We cannot live our lives trying to constantly avoid the bumps and bruises. There will be stupid people who say stupid things, and try to hurt us or turn our love to shit. If we don’t let them, they don’t matter. We are all that matters,” he insisted.
“Do you think it’s possible to feel this way about just anyone? It’s not. If it was, wouldn’t we already be in love, be married, be happy with someone else? We’re special. This is rare, me and you. You know it,” he told her. “Otherwise you wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
“See? You know it’s true. That’s why we can’t let fear of potential or even real problems keep us from enjoying every moment,” he urged. “We can build a great life together. We can travel, experience new things, see the world, together.
“I adore you, and I will do my very best to never let anyone hurt you. I will make a good life for you and our children. You just have to trust me, and,” he paused. “You have to love me enough to bear with some discomfort now and again.”
She laughed softly.
He stared at her, appalled. “Is this funny?”