When I Was White by Sarah Valentine

Author:Sarah Valentine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Twenty-two

I now found myself in the worst possible scenario: I felt my mother was lying to me. When it happened to me, I had been on birth control, and the assailant had used a condom. Since I was passed out, there was no way for me to know whether the person had been black or white or anything else about his identity. The only way I would have known (assuming the assailant did not confess the liaison to me, which he did not) was if I would have had a child. Since the prospective men were of different races, the child would have provided a clue.

In my mother’s case, it seemed that, if things had happened to her in the same way they’d happened to me, then she could only have known her assailant was black because I was. If that were truly the case, she was lying about not realizing I was of mixed race from the beginning. And if she realized I was black from the beginning, she must have had some idea, as I had, who the potential assailant was. Even though I was passed out during the act and heavily intoxicated beforehand, I still remembered, at least vaguely, what had happened at the party before and after. She seemed to have had a complete memory wipe not only of that night but of everything that had happened that year in college before she went on spring break with my dad. She couldn’t remember the encounter itself, couldn’t remember what happened afterward, and had no clue who might have been with her.

From my own experience, I knew how embarrassing and humiliating it was to be in that situation. When I woke up, I had so many questions.

I thought back to the scene in the movie Kids, where Jennie is passed out on the couch, fully clothed, and her male friend approaches her for sex. “Jennie, wake up,” he says softly as he kisses her, touches her breasts, and massages her stomach. She rolls over, half shooing him away, but shows no sign of waking up. He is horny and persists. He takes her jeans and panties off, maneuvering her lifeless limbs.

“Don’t worry, Jennie, it’s me, Casper,” he says as he fucks her unresponsive body.

He is on top of her for what seems like a long time; her legs are draped over his shoulders, her knees level with her ears.

It must have been the same position I was in for my hips and pelvis to have been so sore. How else could you fuck a girl who was passed out cold? Everyone around them is passed out, too, so there were no witnesses. Did he put her pants back on afterward? I doubt it. He doesn’t use protection, either.

At the end of the film, he wakes up on the same couch (Jennie is nowhere in sight) and says, “Jesus Christ, what happened?” He seems to have no memory of what happened, either, or else is simply in disbelief at his and his friends’ levels of debauchery.

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