An Open Letter to Distant Cousin Passing for White
By W. F. Twyman, Jr.
“Hello, how are you? Have you been alright through all those lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely Lonely nights? That’s what I’d say I’d tell you everything if you’d pick up that telephone Yeah, yeah, yeah” — Telephone Line by Electric Light Orchestra (1976)
My oldest and youngest are graduating from the best universities in the world this year. And our middle child is in graduate school pursuing his dreams and creating a life. His girlfriend is white. Funny that. And my niece is setting school records left, right and center. Family will gather together soon in Palo Alto and New Haven and create memories.
No one will miss you. They do not know you.
Could you believe the crazy weather over the past month? Chilly weather in the mornings down to the 40s. And don’t get me started on the torrential rains. My wife, your blood cousin, jury rigged sandbags to protect our basement from flooding. It was hilarious. How did you weather the rain storms? How were things up in North County?
I don’t expect an answer. No expectation you will pick up the telephone.
Once upon a time, you played with your blood cousins in ——--, ——-. Even now, I protect you and your racial choices. Sigh. Remember how you used to visit relatives in South Carolina. You taunted blood cousins who could not pass for white in Charleston. You would traipse around on white sidewalks and enter white only stores. Fun times, huh? And now your blood cousins never say your name.
Hey, how ya feelin'?
Are you still the same? Don't you realize the things we did, we did
Were all for real? Not a dream
I just can't believe they've all faded out of view
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ooh-woo-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh — Telephone Line, Electric Light Orchestra (1976)
My children do not know your name. How does it feel to live a life of no contact with blood cousins because they appear Black American? Coleman Hughes said up to 20 percent of black men passed for white in the early 1920s. So, I suppose you’re not alone. Is there a social group of passing for white Black people in North County? Just curious. Are there annual award dinners and keynote speakers? You too can pass for white. Best passing for white stories of the year. Etc.
On second thought, I suppose not.
Don’t misunderstand my sentiment and tone. I am a strong believer in self-identity. The way of the future is transracialism if you ask me, although Glenn Loury would disapprove/smile. Are you still the same, the young cousin who attended Thanksgiving Dinner at Grandfather’s house? Who explored the summer place at Sag Harbor? Were those memories of a Black American family for real? Or, were they a dream for you?
You and I have never met. And yet we know the same micro climates, the same local news, the same annoyance with the rainy season, the same 72 degree and sunny weather for most of the year, the same traffic jams driving up to Los Angeles. To be fair, I have several cousins on my naughty list for reasons of character. We could swap stories together on Coronado someday. What I find interesting is passing for white nowadays.
The world has changed a lot since the 1950s.
Oh, oh, telephone line, give me some time
I'm living in twilight
Oh, oh, telephone line, give me some time
I'm living in twilight — Telephone Line, Electric Light Orchestra (1976)
I wish you well, cousin. I really do. We are all individuals. We do the best we can based upon our perception of life. Every choice has a consequence. And so passing for white in North County may carry social and psychological benefits. I can dig it. However, one can be a White American and embrace one’s blood cousins. I have so many stories of meeting and talking with distant cousins who happen to be white. It is like not a thing, really.
Alas, you are in a different mental space.
Do you remember when cousin ——- came to visit from the East Coast? You were too happy to meet ——- in North County and catch up on family. But did you think to meet your blood cousins ten miles down the road in downtown San Diego? That would have been an excellent family reunion across the color line. You declined to meet us and sent ——- on his way to meet us alone.
That hurt…but then again it didn’t hurt. ——- and we all had a great time as family. We represented all possible skin tones in Black America. No one cared about skin color. We cared about one another as family. Family…the source of lasting memory, purpose and meaning in life. And you were not there, cousin. You were not there.
Conclusion: May you find peace at the center…living in twilight.
https://time.com/6116209/passing-for-white/
“I’m Living in Twilight”
Reminds me of the descendants of Thomas Jefferson; some cousins chose to embrace their shared heritage and some chose to dig down. I'm fascinated by genealogy and all my past "fathers" and "mothers" who've come from all over to make me who I am, but it's only when I bring up the Cayman branch that one of my relatives insinuates I only researched it because of the West African connection. She never challenges my research on the mothers and fathers from Sicily, Montenegro, Ireland, England and France. Such is life. Hopefully the cousin will figure out the 1950's have passed.
It's great that in your mind you keep trying to have connection with this relative. In spite of racial disavowal on your cousin's part, it seems like he/she might still be ready to engage at a base level. I suppose that's better than total hibernation. You never know when or if a deathbed or earlier revelation may happen. As some might say, letting go is probably the most difficult part of losing a relative, even when you are still motivated to reach out...if only in words. I've heard that such divides about race are not uncommon, but it doesn't make the pain any easier.