White Chocolate

Just call me white chocolate. That's what the girls from Rouge call me. Last night we had our holiday party at LOVE (a fab. club for those of you non hipsters who think love is an emotion). Apparently Love + Vodka + Dancing= White Chocolate.

While sipping on my vodka, I asked them to explain: You're white outside but black inside. Ok, hmmm, I suppose that means I'm a good dancer and I also seem to have the body of a black woman--curvy (if we're going on generalities). I asked one girl where she got her pants and I said I had seen some like it at Urban Outfitters and tried them but they didn't look right. She smirked and told me I need to come to one of her stores---they would know my curves better. Now I have always thought Black women and Jewish women had a lot in common, but fashion was not yet something I've explored.

Back in grad school, the Cave Canem readings were my favorite---because the poetry seemed like it mattered more---more narrative and rhythmic, less concerned with what makes poetry and more concerned with the self, empowering the individual while weaving a community. I remember Lucille Clifton and Sonia Sanchez staying for 2 hours afterwards to sign books and meet everyone who wanted to come up to the stage and shake their hands. I remember Sonia hugging me the way she hugged the other women and called us all sister.

I remember feeling a part of something even though it wasn't normally a community I would think would instantly feel right. Perhaps they saw something in me that was a bit dark and sweet. Though I suspect when you are genuine and real with people and let them see inside your skin, we all will be able to see a piece of ourselves in another.