When I was young I married a black girl.

I first introduced her to my parents, but they would not accept her. I hid the relationship from them that I carried on, I thought, but they found out anyways.

I'm white, and this happened around 1980. I joined the Air Force, we married, and I was told I was disowned. (I will always remember that word).

It was a bad marriage and lasted a year in disaster.

My daughter and her boyfriend are both recently graduated from college. They are in love with each other. My wife (with less melanin than me) and I are all for this great guy from Indian (from India) parents. But he hides things from his dad like I did from both my parents way back then. His mother is cool with it.

He cannot be honest with his dad like I could not be with my parents. My daughter has become like the brown skinned girl I thought I loved, but this time it's about religion. We are not religious.

It is ironic. One group doesn't like the brown. Another doesn't like the religion or lack of. The children who love each other are thrown aside because they do not fit into the hate of generations. It's older than Romeo and Juliet. My wife and I see it, but others live it as if it really matters.

In retrospect, I married my first wife out of principle. But if my daughter and her boyfriend, who are both great, want to marry, it should be for love. And they should go ahead with it regardless.