May I call you H? I realize you’re royalty and all, and I’m just a regular Joe, living in the former colonies, and shorter and less handsome than you, but still, we’re buds, right?
Anyway, H, I understand from the news that you’re getting married. Congratulations, on the nuptials. Marriage is an excellent way to end your sex life, decrease pesky testosterone levels, and increase the odds that you will no longer be able to find any of your possessions or make decisions for yourself.
I understand you’re marrying a “person of color.” Congratulations! Mazel Tov (as my people say). I, too, am married to a woman of color, so I welcome you to the club. We are a small, but growing lot, proud of our ability to confuse and confound people across the globe.
Now that you’re entering into an interracial marriage, there are some things you should be apprised of. And, if I may be so bold, permit me to offer some words of advice. I realize that you’re a Prince, and I’m just a guy who lives in NYC, but I am older, and there’s no one in your immediate family who can offer you advice on marrying persons of color (indeed, their forte is marrying colorless persons).
So, here goes:
1 – First, you may not, under any circumstances, say the “N-Word.” I mean, you can say “N-Word,” but you cannot say the actual word. I don’t care if MM (soon to be Princess MM) runs around Buckingham Palace saying “N-Word this, and N-Word that.” It doesn’t matter if she says you have permission. It doesn’t matter if you’re just quoting her, and using a very proper, English accent and you very deliberately use air quotes to signify that what you are saying is a direct quote and not your own words. You may not, under any circumstances, say the “N-Word.” You can’t even say “Negro” unless you’re talking about the James Baldwin film or discussing the all-Black baseball leagues in the United States prior to Jackie Robinson (but why would you be talking about that, since you’re British and like Cricket).
2- Second, don’t let anyone touch her hair. Trust me. For women of color, the hair is what the . . . well, I guess what the actual Crown Jewels are like for you. Look, but don’t touch is the phrase of the day.
3 – Third, remember that if you have kids, your child will be African-American (oops, scratch that — we didn’t take back all of the UK in 1776 did we? On the other hand, MM is American, so, you know, maybe your kid is African-American after all). In any event, point is, your kid will be a person of African heritage. And, quite possibly, they may look like a person of African heritage. And, as such, they may suffer discrimination and racism. For example, your son may not be able to get a cab (oh, wait, royals don’t take cabs, do they). In any event, somebody may say something racist and derogatory about Black people that your child will have to deal with and that you have no personal experience with because you are tall and good-looking and White and royal and a billionaire. I feel you (well, not the tall, good-looking, British, royal or wealthy parts, but the other part). So, if I may be so bold, here’s what I suggest: you have to be honest. You can’t fake it. You have to tell your child that you have no earthly idea what it’s like to be the object of unfair scorn and derision because the only time you’ve been the object of scorn and derision is when you donned a Nazi uniform at a party because you thought it would be a “goof” (yeah, that was an “oops” moment that my people haven’t quite gotten over completely). Point is, you’re a person of extraordinary privilege. You will NEVER truly know what a person of color goes through (even a person who is a member of the Royal family). The best you can do is what all of us dads do — tell you’re kid that they are awesome, that they should ignore the haters, and then, when your kid goes to his/her room, go out on the front lawn and kick the ever-loving sh*t out of those f*ckwads who would dare to say anything about your kid (or, you know, maybe that’s just me. I’m from New York, after all, we have a way of doing things. And, of course, come to think of it, not sure how anyone uninvited is on the front lawn of Buckingham Palace, but, let’s just say.).
Anyway, H, that’s all I have for now. I’ll write more later. But, meantime, hang in there dude. So far so good. You’re doing fine. And, even though you will never be king, you have a much better hairline than your bro.
All the best,