Meeting Jerome's Parents

Carrie was terribly nervous. She and Jerome had flown to rural Mississippi, where his parents, Jeremiah and Lashonda had grown up, and where they had retired. Jerome, for his part, was more comfortable in his home city of Atlanta.

Jeremiah opened the door. The house was strewn with lights, and there was a big Christmas tree in the living room. They used the old school lights, Carrie noticed.

"And this must be Carrie," Jeremiah said. The old Black man leaned down to give Carrie a hug, which she reciprocated warmly. Lashonda, however, was more standoffish. "Some of the extended family is over, though they are about to leave. This is my brother, Tony, and my nephew, Rondell."

"Nice to meet you all," Carrie said, flashing a winning smile.

Tony and Rondell went to their home across town shortly thereafter. Lashonda looked over at Carrie crossly.

"So, you picked a white woman," Lashonda said bitterly.

"Momma, don't start, please," Jerome said, holding up his hand. Lashonda ignored him.

"Look, Jerome has always been a bit ... uppity," Lashonda said diplomatically. "I don't want no white-acting grandkids coming to visit me, looking down on me."

"Umm, I'm not planning to raise them white, Mrs. Washington. I want them to fully appreciate and acknowledge their black heritage."

"Momma, this is just premature --" Jerome tried again, but Lashonda held up her hand to silence him.

"Black churches?"

"Sure, Mrs. Washington. Look, I'm with your son because he is my King. And I'm not going to whitewash anything. My kids will be Black. And I want you and Jerome to always be welcome in my home, and never feel awkward. So please, let's start over." Lashonda stared at her for a long moment before nodding.