Get Updates Each Time I Post a New Blog. It’s That Simple.

A password will be e-mailed to you.

Don’t Look!

posted by Sheva @ 1:37 AM
Tuesday, July 19, 2011

When I was pregnant, I felt uncomfortable when people would stare at my belly and I really hated it when people (strangers and those I knew) would reach over and sort of grab or claw at me, in an effort to connect with the hidden baby. Think about how you would feel (talking to everyone reading this who is not currently preggers) if someone just lunged towards you and started rubbing your stomach. Yeah, it sucks just as much when there is a baby inside – more, actually, because I felt so protective of that new & fragile being hiding inside.

Many Israeli friends of mine believe that a mere look at a pregnant belly can endanger the health and wellbeing of the child within – and while I don’t buy that, I can attest to the fact that I do feel a heightened sense of paranoia about getting stared at when I am pregnant.


What is wrong with me?

Because when I’m NOT pregnant, and a pregnant person passes me by…

All I want to do is STARE.

And touch!


It got me thinking…

My friend Hugo Schwyzer wrote a blog the other day about the interracial nature of his various intimate relationships over the years, and how people in black neighborhoods stare at him when he walks with his (part-Nigerian) wife. It prompted me to think about my own family (including my sister who is white and Jewish and married to a very dark skinned black Cuban man, and their kids), and my own history of interracial dating (aside from a couple hookups in college my first adult/serious boyfriend was black).

I also used to hate when people stared at me and Milli Vanilli back in the day when we were dating. It would bug me to no end that people I didn’t know would gawk at us as we walked by holding hands. (I’m not excusing the fact that I dated Rob Pilatus’ doppelganger. Wait a minute… is THAT why they were staring? Hmmmm…)

And yet… despite my loathing starring in the ‘interracial spotlight’…

When I see an interracial couple, especially between black and white or black and Asian – I don’t know why – but all I want to do is STARE! Same goes for a black child with white parents, and – as I found on a plane trip recently – same goes for a white child with black grandparents. I just wanted to look at them. I even wanted to ask the family how did it wind up happening, that this black couple had a white grandchild?

The conversational equivalent of someone lunging at a pregnant belly, wouldn’t you say?

I’m about as PC as you can get while still being able to hold conversations and have friends who hail ‘from the other side of the isle’. I don’t believe in making anyone feel out of place, marginalized, or ‘bad’ – and therefore even if I wanted to look at a couple of different colored people, or to touch a belly, I do my best to restrict these impulses.

Still… I’m asking myself, why do I want to look so badly at interracial couples and pregnant bellies in the first place – 2 scenarios that I personally know are not ‘proper’?

I think maybe it is because both contain an out-of-the ordinary visual treat – one hides a new life, a new soul, and the miracle of creation, and the other displays a union of two different cultures – the miracle of love and humanity as it exists in all of us, beneath the external differences.

Or am I just a nosey Posey?


Sheva (BatSheva Vaknin)

I mean, come on! It’s too tempting! I have to look!!!!)

2 Responses to “Don’t Look!”

  1. Tara says:

    thanks for the shout out, maybe… :)
    I can answer the question about black parents or grandparents of white kids. The answer is… genetics are mysterious. I’ll never forget how the only person who dared to ask me what our first child was going to look like was Vicki, our cousin who does not understand the same kinds of PC social codes that prevented everyone else from saying WHAT I’M SURE THEY WERE THINKING! The kids can really come out almost any color of the rainbow. Well maybe not purple.

    That’s one of the reasons I always found Cuban culture so refreshing, by the way. They don’t hide their prejudices or even the simple fact that they notice differences; they declare it. Any day of the week in Havana you can walk down the street and hear one person shouting affectionately across the street, “Hey! Fat black guy! Come over here!” And it is the most normal, non-offensive thing in the world.

    • Sheva says:

      I love that about Cuban culture too! Though I admit it took some getting used to, hearing you call baby Esther (yours) “la Gordita”! So NOT American culture… And even though you say that about genetics, ARE YOU SURE???? These kids were the whitest of white (brother & sis)… Ok fine, I’ll take your knowledgeable word for it…

The Grown Up Girl is proudly powered by WordPress

Entries (RSS) and Comments (RSS).