When people first meet my husband and/or see a picture of us together, the surprise is obvious. I’ve had a few people outright tell me that they just assumed he was Korean. More often than not, I get the question, “What do your parents think?” When they find out that, like me, he’s an attorney, some people look utterly gobsmacked. How sad and pathetic is it that many are still shocked that a black man in America can be intelligent and successful, and not a drug dealer or thug? We have a black president, people, come on. On the same token, there have been occasions when my husband has introduced me to someone who did not know that I’m not black, and their surprise is just as obvious. Though my husband tends not to notice as much as I do, we get our fair share of double-takes and raised eyebrows from people on the street or in stores. I don’t know if that’s a reaction to him, to me, or to the two of us together. Someone once asked whether I thought at all about the difficulties we would encounter as an interracial couple, and I told them truthfully that I had. When they asked why I would put myself through that, I answered simply that I wasn’t going to let other peoples’ hatred and prejudices keep me from being happy, and that I would rather be with him and deal with whatever prejudices we’re going to encounter than not be with him just for that one reason. I’ve been dealing with racism and prejudices my entire life anyway, and I’d rather have him by my side than deal with it alone.