I had relatives who could pass for Prince, Roy Ayers, Lena Horne, and Aretha Franklin.  I was raised to see them as non-African and strictly Dominican.  Spain was the motherland.  Blonde hair and blue eyed babies were the stuff of dreams.  

While at school, I was invited to a birthday party for a classmate.  I was shocked.  Little old nerdy, skinny, and no sock wearing me, being invited to a birthday party with girls.  Yes, girls.  I couldn't believe it.  I assumed it was a prank.  I decided to go anyway.  I have been on the receiving ends of quite a few beat downs.  Another one wouldn't matter.  

I showed up and I was dead wrong.  There were many girls.  Girls from public schools!  I only found a few guys I knew from school.  They gave me the universal head nod in acknowledgment. I immediately scanned the room and found a young lady, who was just right.  I learned that her name was Rosie.  She was voluptuous for a 13 year old.  You must bear with me.  These were the days before fast food and chickens shot up with steroids and hormones, became the staple of the American diet.  She had long hair, and was as butterscotch as I was.  

I got myself a soda and just sat down, letting the ice melt.  I could not muster the courage to talk to her.  What saved me was Freddy.  He was a brother I knew since forever.  His mother and my mother shared a room when we were born, and have been friends ever since.  His presence made me relax.  Freddy explained that, these girls were freaky and like playing spin the bottle. My heart jumped.  I might get my chance with Rosie.  

About fifteen minutes later, we were on the floor spinning an old coke bottle.  My palms were sweating and I gave Rosie no eye contact.  I kept daydreaming, finding myself time traveling, minutes into the future with the bottle pointing at Rosie and me.  I imagined Rosie running towards me in slow motion, professing her undying love for me.  It didn't go down like that.  

After quite a few people had their ten seconds in heaven, in the birthday girls’ bathroom, I thought I would never get my chance with Rosie.  Finally the bottle stopped in my direction.  I looked up and learned that my partner would be Val.  Like Rosie, Val didn't go to school with some of us.  She was a public school girl.  I seen her in passing after school let out, but I knew some of the girls she hung out with.  Val was beautiful.  She was another well built 13 year old. She was quiet and well kept.  Val was not known for being loose.  

My problem was that she was black, black as in chocolate.  I was immediately repulsed by her.  My shyness coupled with my fear left me speechless.  I didn't want to touch her.  Somehow, we made it into the bathroom with the lights out.  The deal was, to make out without coping a feel below the panty line, and above the abdomen, unless the young lady allows it.  While making out, both were to count to ten and then stop.  

We began to kiss and I realized that I enjoyed it.  I have to point out, that Val was the first girl I ever kissed like that.  I enjoyed it.  However by number five, I pulled back.  She was mad and pointed out that our time was not up.  I swore it was.  We went back and forth.  I thought that I would have to allot her the second half of our ten seconds in heaven, until someone knocked on our door to remind us that our time is up.  

As I walked out of the bathroom, I felt an overwhelming sense of shame wash over me.  It was as if the party goers could read my thoughts. I did not look anyone in the eye.  I found another corner and sipped some more soda. I realized that Lime 7up was not as good as I thought it was.  

Walking home that night, still a virgin, I realized something.  I learned that color consciousness, I was indoctrinated in was crippling. It prevented me from developing meaningful relationships with people.  It stunted my growth.  Yes, at the tender and very scary age of 13, I realized that I had a large amount of work to do with myself.  

Twenty two years later, that memory still brings shame. It is something I am uncomfortable discussing.  Fortunately for me, Val and I remained friends, until I left the NYC area.  Today, I am married to the sweetest Nigerian woman on the planet.

© Copyright 2008 Blacktino e-News Network

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