I realized last night as I tried to muffle Nick’s snoring that I haven’t written much about culture lately. It’s a topic that surfaces in our household, mhm, twice a day or so. There are usually a lot of questions that rise between Nick and I – how to negotiate certain problems, differences, etc – as they do in all marriages. One of the things that I’ve found quite interesting in our marriage is how the topic of interracial marriage is raised – or not raised – by our peers.

Nick and I trade stories about race, ethnicity, and upbringing all the time. At our core, I think we’re quite similar in values (I mean, I wouldn’t have married someone who believes in porn and killing off polar bears), but our personalities couldn’t be more different. Among those differences is, obviously, race.

If you haven’t noticed, I’m Brown and Nick is White. We celebrate different parts of our identity, sometimes more mine because it is much more difficult to feel a sense of belonging when most pop culture, education, history, media – everything – is not reflective of my identity and sense of self. But we’re learning how to find balance in that as well. It most often comes up when we talk about having children.

One of the most odd and hilarious things that I get when we talk about having a family someday is when folks says, “I can’t wait to see what your kids look like.” Well, I hope they’re dead gorgeous, but I hope they’re a lot of other things first. We know the comments are just taglines to note an interest in bi/multiracial children, but it’s not like we’re a scientific experiment or something. I’m pretty hopeful the kid’s gonna come out with four limbs, a brain, and a soul.

In these current times when race seems to be the hottest button in conversation – from church homilies to CNN – I try to remind folks that understanding difference is a process, one that you should be intentional about pursuing. It is my personal belief that, yes, eventually, “what are you?” is going to be a question of the past and racial features that distinguish cultures and ancestry will be dusty artifacts that only historic pictures will reflect.

As for Nick and I, while we remain supremely confident in the good looks of our future children, we do make it a priority that s/he will understand the Filipino flag as much as the American flag. They’ll eat rice with Philippine cuisine, as they’ll hear stories about small town Russia and their dad being the valedictorian and prom king. Our kids will hear stories about the racism their mom and maternal grandparents endured and how immigration was a messy topic once upon a time. They’ll learn how to build faith in life, as well as death, and learn that kindness and grace begins in the family at home. They’ll be mixed, yes, but they’ll learn it’s a blessing and privilege, not a confusing misfortune that resulted when two Xavier students fell in love in Cincinnati.

So, to answer a question that came up in the car from a good friend, “So, does, like race come up for you guys, since, you know, you’re in, like, an interracial relationship?”

Simply stated, yes.