"When I told my father I was going to marry Jake he said, ‘If you marry that man you will never set foot in this house again.’
He was horrified that I could contemplate marrying a black man, and I soon learned that most people felt the same way. The first years of our marriage living in Birmingham were hell — I cried every day, and barely ate. No one would speak to us, we couldn’t find anywhere to live because no one would rent to a black man, and we had no money.
People would point at us in the street. Then I gave birth to a stillborn son at eight months. It wasn’t related to the stress I was under but it broke my heart, and we never had any more children.
We were at the same technical college. I was having typing and shorthand lessons and he’d been sent there for training by the Air Force. He was with a group of black friends and they called my friend and me over to talk. We didn’t even know they spoke English, but Jake and I got chatting. He quoted Shakespeare to me, which I loved.
Jake returned to Trinidad, but we carried on writing to each other, and a few years later he returned to the UK to get better paid work.
He asked me to marry him, quite out of the blue, when I was only 19. My father threw me out, and I left with only one small suitcase to my name. No family came to our register office wedding in 1948.
But gradually life became easier. I got teaching jobs, ending up as a deputy head teacher. First Jake worked in a factory, then for the Post Office.
Slowly we made friends together, but it was so hard. I used to say to new friends: ‘Look, I have to tell you this before I invite you to my home — my husband is black.’
My father died when I was 30 and although we were reconciled by then, he never did approve of Jake.
Today we have been married for 63 years, and are still very much in love. I do not regret marrying him for an instant, despite all the pain we have suffered."
@jelenawoehr I hate small-talk because of my own social anxiety but you’re extremely correct! As much as I WISH that I could go from 0 to 60 into deep conversation with ppl I don’t really know, I’ve come to realize that small talk is needed to build the trust and rapport for those convos.
@redemptionarcs@ConradBastable I think all of us humanities people are just sick to death of being told our degrees are useless and being dismissed as “majoring in basket-weaving” when so many STEM chuds don’t know how to craft an email without grammatical errors and have no concept of soft skills.
@PLeigh_Presents@RealMarcFoxx@theoneginevra Not always. In my opinion, there’s so much literature to explore that if I’m not at least intrigued the first few chapters in, I’ll go search out a book that grabs me from the jump.
@ask_aubry I can’t believe how many people in the replies are glossing over the booger element. I’d have left his stuff in boxes out front and changed the locks after that little stunt.
@afnaples1@Zerilentix@sniffstiel @korethewitch @LLenscape @ask_aubry An adult man snoozing his alarm to the point of his own detriment isn’t a relationship communication issue. It’s a personal responsibility issue.
@mmt_lvt@THATMOMx4@wnbawife Commenting on an employee’s eating habits in a forum of their peers is wildly inappropriate behavior for a boss to engage in. Hope this helps!
This article is such a triumph of journalism and I, like Sophia, think about it often years after the first read. So horrifying but measured and compassionate toward parents dealing with the unimaginable.
@ReeVleck@Esqueer_ Sorry, marginalized people should show up to confront bigoted freaks in public, putting their already precarious safety on the line to defend… Target employees’ 401ks?
@redemptionarcs tbh you’re the person who made me feel like it’s okay to DNF and I’m so glad because I’ve stopped wasting time on stuff that doesn’t wow me!
@hous3ofthis@BayNootParfait@KarbonSays Oh yeah, the “being allowed to drop a deuce in the public restroom without some freak trying to play Sherlock with your genitals” ultimatum.