I grew up in a predominantly Caucasian neighbourhood in a town southwest of Montreal Island. As a result most of the girls I knew were white, not to mention Roman Catholic. I never entertained the idea of dating outside my race or religion because the opportunity never presented itself. It wasn't until I moved to Toronto, Ontario that I became exposed to women of different backgrounds and experiences. I began befriending and later on marrying a woman outside the culture and religion I grew up with.
Meeting members of the opposite sex in Toronto is just as difficult as back home. The obvious difference here though is the chance of meeting women of different ethnic groups is significantly greater. I fast learned that the cliché "opposites attract" applies to me. I became curious about women completely different from me. I was attracted to black hair and brown eyes. I was curious about women whose cultural practices were different from my own. I wanted to hear and learn about different ways of life. I suppose this makes sense given the fact that everyone I grew up with lived and did as I did.
Later on, I met a Canadian-Korean woman. She had the black hair and brown eyes that so appealed to me. After months of getting to know each other, we realized we had many, many differences, including different childhood experiences, religious backgrounds, and well, races. But the deeper we dug into each other, the more we realized we shared the same fundamental values. This, in spite of all our differences, was what attracted us to each other.
After dating for close to three years, we got married. Because we both want children, we are constantly exploring our differences: What religion should the children be brought up with? Will they experience any unique situations because they will be children of a "mixed marriage"? As long as we both continue to keep an open mind, we will be fine. At the same time, we talk about our common values and beliefs. And then we know we will be fine.
I am tremendously happy in my decision to be with a woman so different (yet so alike!) from me. It hasn't all been easy. It took a while for some family members to come around to the idea. And I'm sure there are people out there who disapprove and frown upon the idea. But you stand up for yourself and the woman you care about. You think about your future and where you want to be ten - twenty- fifty years from now and agree: Yes, I have done the right thing.
Mark was everybody's bestfriend, you know, the really popular guy that kids always wanted at their parties. He was on the basketball and swim team. He played the trombone in the band and got good grades. I felt extremely happy when he first noticed me and later asked me out. Everyone told me I was so lucky.
As a one month anniversary gift, Mark got me a gold pendant in the shape of a heart. At that point, I knew he was serious about us and felt determined to make this relationship last forever. This in spite of his violent temper.
I first saw him really mad after his basketball team lost the city championship. He kicked his car so hard and so many times, he left a big dent in it. I was so shocked I let out a scream. He loved that car. When I tried to calm him down, he yelled at me and told me I didn't know what I was talking about. When I reminded him it was just a game, he came charging at me and threw me on the ground. He kicked me in the stomach, I was so stunned, I couldn't even cry.
Later Mark apologised like crazy, explaining how devastated he had been by losing the championship game. He also told me how much he loved me. This got to me in a big way and I ended up apologising for not being more sensitive to his needs. We made up and everything was great - until the next time he got mad.
By our one-year anniversary I had been thrown to the ground a few times, kicked, slapped, and shoved about. It seems absurd now to think that at that time I thought this was okay. I had somehow asked for it by making Mark upset. I was so determined to make things right. I was so determined to be supportive and the perfect girlfriend. Besides, no one suspected anything and kept telling me how great we were together. I felt I had an image to keep up.
I was with Mark over at his place when he opened his admission letter from Waterloo University. They had turned him down for their engineering program. He picked up the first thing he saw - a vase on the kitchen table - and flung it across the room. I stood paralysed. Then he said, "This is all your fault." I remember this quite clearly because it sort of happened in slow motion. He said, "If you weren't so demanding of my time, I could have studied harder!" Then he picked up the marble rolling pin on the counter and came towards me. I fell backwards, hitting my head on a chair. His first blow hit me on my arm.
Then a scream came from behind me. It was Mark's mother. Mark dropped the rolling pin and stormed out the back door.
I never saw Mark after that. I ignored his calls and eventually threatened to press charges if he continued to harrass me. I told him to get couselling. He told me he'd do anything to have me back but I had had enough. The cast I had on my arm was a good reminder. I loved him, yes... in spite of the abuse because we had had many good times together, but I cared about my own health and welfare more.
Anyone who says males and females can't be friends obviously has never been in a platonic relationship. My best friend has been a guy since my highschool years. We have never had a sexual relationship. We are both 22 years old.
Like any friendship I would have with a female, my friendship with Steve involves a genuine care for one another and the same level of commitment to the relationship.
What keeps a friendship together is compatibility, commitment, and a true desire to be friends. We have all that and more. When I have problems with a guy, it's refreshing to get a male perspective on the situation. When Steve had questions about girls and dating, I tried to help him out as well. I later went on to be his "best man" at his wedding. Because everyone knew we were friends, no one at the wedding thought this was unnatural.
Some people will argue with you and say, NO NO NO, it's just not possible, there must be a sexual attraction. Why? Why would they assume you'd have to be sexually attracted to a guy just cuz you enjoyed his company and had something interesting to talk about? You could do this with your brother or male cousins - they're all guys, right? Gender shouldn't stop people from forming true and meaningful friendships.
Someone recently asked me if I believed in God. Without hesitation, I answered a simple, yes. As soon as the words came out, my listener assumed that I was a Christian. No, I explained to him, I did not follow a particular faith.
I was raised in a Catholic family. My parents and extended family are
all Catholic. I went to church and thought this was how everyone else lived.
But then I moved to Canada and my eyes were opened.
For the first time in my life, I began to think and question religion.
I came to understand that I had choices and options. I really can't say
what prompted me to stop being a Christian but I can tell you how it affects
me. Some people think I'm weird for leaving the church but I don't have
a problem with that.
I feel bad for people who try to impose their beliefs on you, believing that their way of life is the only "right" path to take in life. I think a lot of this stems from ignorance.
My closest friends are Catholic but this isn't an issue when we hang out. They know where I stand on religion and respect it. They accept me for who I am.
It's not important what religion you are. The important thing is that you know who you are and believe in yourself. If you look at the major world religions, they all tell you the same thing: RESPECT AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
If you'd like to express your opinion, you can write to me, Jiyong, by clicking here. Thanks.
I'm not quite sure what is means to be Inuit. I look at my physical self and try to see past my skin colour, my hair, and my eyes. I was brought up to respect nature and my elders although I feel the prescence of my ancestors and my culture is slowly dying. I fear going extinct - but can a white person understand this? I don't need money from the government or to be felt sorry for. I am not a charity case.
The school system here helped me forget my background. I've heard of colonialism, imperalism, and the coming of the white man - as told from the white perspective. The past is filled with the bloodshed of my ancestors. I cannot ignore this and proceed as if nothing happened. Should be thankful for the two chapters in a history book devoted to the natives of North America?
I am now of the age where I am seriously questioning my identity. This wasn't an issue in the past. I was content with being, Steve, the Indian Kid, so long as no one picked on me. I now realize I cannot change the past but I must take the energy brewing inside of me and do something positive - to honour my past, and help my race survive into the twenty-first century.
I stumbled onto your website and seeing that you have a place for me to ramble, I thought I'd take the opportunity.
I'm seventeen years old and confused about lots of stuff in life, including my future. I hate school, it's usually boring. With the exception of my history teacher, the rest of them look like caricatures and act like stereotypical teachers you'd find in an American sitcom. History is the only subject I can digest, that's mainly because our teacher is only a few years older than us and has a wicked sense of humour. The kids go to class to be entertained. It's the only course I'm pulling an A in.
My parents can't understand me but that's hardly unique. I barely see my dad anyway since he moved out. Now he's living with a woman even younger than my history teacher. Thank God he makes enough to pay for all the shrinks my mother goes to see on a weekly basis. I wish they'd divorce and get on with it. I'm the man of the house now, whatever that means. That's what my mom keeps saying. I told her she'd only get better if she stops clinging to a man, any man. That's the trouble with most women, they have been duped into thinking they NEED a man around.
My guidance counsellor says I must give my future some serious thought: Do I want to be an accountant like my father? I laughed in his face (although I felt bad about that later.) No, I have no desire to push paper and go to school for God-knows how many more years. I told him I wanted to win the lottery and live off of that until I died at the age of 35. He wasn't amused. The poor guy, he was trying, so I decided to be serious for a moment. I told him the truth: I had no idea what I wanted. Before I left his office, he tried to sell his usual pep talk: I'm full of potential and it would be tragic to let it ALL go to waste.
To appease my parents I will probably apply to some university or college, although I have no idea what for. I'm sure I could pull all my marks up if I tried. I'm just not motivated. My friends feel the same way. Tuition keeps going up, jobs are non-existent, the economy sucks.... We feel hopeless and powerless. We're not stupid. Lazy perhaps. Unmotivated. Uninspired, yes.
My days blend into each other, like pages from a really boring philosophy book, there is no climax, no drama, and what little reason there might be, it is obscured and hidden under the garbage society throws at me.
How many other kids feel the way I do? How many of them surf endless hours on the web trying to find others to identify with? To know, we are not alone. There are others out there - that makes us normal. I'm normal. Normal is boring. I need to do something, anything - if only to stop the boredom, and to stop being "average." I don't want to wake up one day at the age of forty-five and decide I too need to have an affair with my twenty-one year old assistant to stop the boredom and stop being average.
- David, Etobicoke, Ontario
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