Juneteenth, in All its Glory
Today is Juneteenth. What does that day mean to you? For me, it means a lot of things.
Nine years ago today, I got married. Do you remember that day? Many of you were there. It was literally the day Georgia came to the great state of New York City. Jesse helped me find the one farm within the City limits, and we invited half the Chinese people in the tri-state area out there. The pastor joked that he thought he'd have to wear duck boots to be able to walk through the grass which he assumed was going to be 6-inches piled high in cow manure. I couldn't have white wooden folding chairs because apparently no one does that in reality due to the possibility of inclement weather, but we had white plastic ones that sure as heck looked like wood. The perfectionist inside me cringed. The logical part of me rationalized that probably most people used these exact chairs for their outdoor, Southern weddings and that I just didn't know it.
For as much as I bash
the South, I brought as much of it as I could to that little farm in Queens
county, as well as a whopping total of about 11 white people who had known me
for longer than the four years I'd lived in New York. There it was. We were representing.
Eleven Caucasians, and as much pink and gray as I could find, and my precious
bridesmaids and sister could muster. They endured it with me, even wearing damn
pink flowers that I suppose was as humiliating for my sister to wear as her
blue frock of a bridesmaids dress was for me to wear back in 2004 during her
wedding. I had not sought revenge for having to wear that blue dress that had
angel-wings, but in hindsight, I suppose I ended up with it. She literally
walked down the aisle with a pink bow and headband on. That was true love.
Seriously.
My other bridesmaids did everything they could to make me feel loved, even as some of them tiptoed down the aisle (Kim Cheung. I have pictures to prove it), so afraid they would step in poop or sink into the grass because they were wearing heels. (I tell you. These Yankee ladies. They have some interesting fears). The Smiths played violin, a dream I'd always had for my wedding, a live band. They stood to the side instead of beside me because my soon-to-be husband wouldn't agree to the traditional number of around 14 bridesmaids that Southern brides have in their weddings. How are we supposed to narrow down friends? That is ridiculous. Thank God he had four brothers.
But we managed, and it was beautiful. And I didn't even get mad when Mom walked the reverse way down the aisle shaking people's hands AFTER my brother had escorted her to her seat. Like a freaking politician processing through the crowd at a support rally. (Long story short, she needed to help get the 3-year-old ring bearer from the back of the makeshift aisle to the front, and he was currently refusing, binkie in mouth, yellow-New York-taxi-cab car in hand. So she did what any good grandmother would do. She swooped in to fix the situation....but first, she had to figure out how to get BACK to him in the back of the room. Room? No...it wasn't a room. It was outdoors. She could have walked around the chairs, but that would have taken too much time or made far too much sense....straight down the rose-pedal-laden aisle she went, smiling and saying hello to everyone who made eye contact with her...which was INDEED everyone because where else were they supposed to look as she WALKED THE OPPOSITE WAY DOWN THE AISLE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PROCESSION???? You cannot make this stuff up people. And it is amazing)
I could go on, but there
is more to which to get, so I will end for now. It was a glorious day. I
remember it fondly. Thank you all for being a part, and for probably getting
sunburnt for the first or second time in your long Asian lives. God was
sovereign and certainly brought more than a little bit of Georgia to New York,
and y'all had to endure the weather while sporting your umbrellas to shield
yourselves from the -gasp- sun. It turned out incredible. I thank you
all. Thank you for sweating through it with me. I will forever treasure it.
But there is more a
person cannot make up which we should address, as my BFF Whitney Glenn pointed
out last night, namely that our wonderful president, (that's sarcasm. I
don't actually think he's wonderful, if you this is the first thing you are
reading from me and wonder…), needed
to say he’d gone and done a good thing making Junteenth famous.
And that's just it people, we have to educate ourselves before we make such sweeping statements as "racism has gotten better," and "it's not that bad," and "well there are other problems, so I don't think we or the church should concentrate so much on this one." Those are excuses. And we all need to stop entertaining them. There are other problems- many, and we should address those as well. BUT RIGHT NOW- Right now we to address this one so that there can be MORE PEOPLE ALIVE and on EQUAL FOOTING to address the others. First things first... LISTEN to the black people, respect their experiences, and reflect on your own life, and privilege. Stop needing to be the center of attention. It's not OUR wedding day. It is theirs. Let them have their wedding day. Instead, WE need just to put the damn pink flower in our hair and walk down the aisle. LOVE. People. That is what we should do today. LOVE. (Thought you'd escaped my political and socially judicious pieces huh? Snuck this one in on ya! #emancipate)
And love requires commitment. My final point. Love is not just a feeling. Sure, love can be a feeling, and we all LOVE it when it is, but love has got to be more. Jesse and I married each other much out of logic and commitment to what we believed to be God's will. We'd both had emotions for each other, and I knew there was the potential for more, but Jesse was a pretty unemotional guy back then, and I was hell-bent on following God regardless of how hard it was. Jesse had a lot of walls up that needed to come down. He did not give to me the things I'd sought in relationships most of my life. He didn't say all the incredible things those men of the past had said that made me want to give them my lives. But Jesse did things those other men never could do. Jesse committed. Jesse stayed by my side. Jesse dealt with all of my imperfections, and he worked out every problem we encountered with me, seeking God, and seeking the help of others, and seeking TO HELP others. He didn't sing my praises all the time, so I took my need to be serenaded to my Savior and gave Him and Jesse my word to stay put in this one. Jesus sung my praises, and my friends who wore the pink bows of course, and Jesse stood by me, with me, and fought Satan and the world, fought for God’s will, and something better than what we had. I trusted Jesus to provide and heal us in time where we needed it, in all the ways I did and didn’t know, and I saw potential. I knew we had our moments. I knew we had the potential for that love, but that it was not the most important thing. So I walked down the aisle, face set like flint, (Isaiah 50:7).
Well first, I sent out invitations... even inviting some of the boys who had made me feel like the queen I indeed was but who weren't abled to stand by my side. “In your face yo- this one committed! Closing up shop! You had your chance!” One of them even came! I treasure his best friendship to this day; Jesse and I both do. What a humble and incredible man. Life is more than the idea of romance parroted to us in Disney movies. Life is about relationships leading us to godliness. And in that respect, there is plenty of space for many glorious relationships that do that safely within the context of redemption. We love you best friend Titus! Happy Juneteenth to you too!
So here we are, nine years later, having learned ALOT. And making great strides. My husband ''feels'' today much more than he did nine years ago, and he's getting a lot better at expressing it, and at buying me copious amounts of pizza, which is what we are eating for dinner tonight, of course, and especially since Sauce is offering a $5 off coupon and my husband is a Chinese man who never PASSES UP the use of a coupon.
Finally, nine years ago, Juneteenth was Father’s Day. When the videographer asked my dad if he had any final words for the bride on her wedding day, Dad said straight into the camera, completely serious, “If you want, just let me know, and you can still come home with Bryant and me tonight.”
Thanks Dad. I got that one
saved on film forever:
The invitation to bail out on the ridiculously expensive party you threw for
all the Asian people. I love you.
Nine years ago, I knew the man I was marrying was going to be an incredible father. Of that, there was absolutely no doubt, and every day I see that he is indeed just that....a father like I never could have dreamed. My children will have no issues thinking about God as their Father and understanding what it means that God loves them. Their earthly father is as close to perfect in fathering them as one could hope. They are blessed. I am blessed. Every day.
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