Language Lessons

This summer, I became a "first" for a friend of mine.\nIt was a private thing definitely, and it happened between my summer roommate and me in New York. But just to make sure I'm not being misleading, this was nothing sexual. This rather miniscule event was not even something I would have noticed had she not brought it up. But one night, quite late, she casually mentioned that I was her first white friend.\nThis really threw me initially, but that's really just how it was. She grew up in Los Angeles and went to a school that was fairly racially mixed, but she stayed with a tight group of black friends. And then, she attended and graduated from Howard University, a predominantly black school in Washington. Of course, she'd always had white acquaintances, but never a friend who was actually close. But this summer, there we were, thrown together in a townhouse at Columbia University with three other girls -- and we bonded.\nLike any friendship, this required some sacrifice: I learned a whole new mode of the English language in two months. Suddenly, the simple expressions "Shut up!" and "I am so mad at you" took on whole new meanings. (In case you don't know -- as I didn't -- "Shut up!" is really a substitute for "Wow!" or "No way!" and "I am so mad at you" translates neatly into "I can't believe you did that/wore that/said that -- what were you thinking?") \nAnd those are just the simple ones. I also received lessons on what a "hot mess" is -- which was a great catch-all expression that described anything from our kitchen sink to my roommate Lori's spiky maroon hair after a rough night of sleep. (And if a situation became really out of control, then you've got a flaming hot mess -- and there are definitely situations like that in the world!) I found out what a weave is, as far as hair care goes, and I got some advice about putting long dreads in my hair ("Girl -- no").\nI can only hope that I taught her something, because she usually laughed at my expressions ("Now who says, 'That kicks ass!'? Who says that?").\nBeyond these mutual language lessons, we were just two girls who liked each other's company. And even though our friendship was and continues to be a positive experience for me, there are still some lines between us. I'm not sure where they came from, but they're real. She told me so, in a sort of ghetto parable style.\nSo here's her tale, paraphrased from her words, and tentatively titled, "The Parable of the White Girl and the Black Girl in the City." \nA white girl and a black girl were hanging in downtown New York, and the white girl did "something" (insert your own example here) that made a separate group of black girls want to jump her. \nAs my black roommate said at the end of this short tale, "What do I do?"\nThis question went unanswered by either of us. And I'd hope if we were the people in this story, she'd defend me -- as a friend. I hope she wouldn't let any lines between our racial identities make her hesitate. \nLike all of the language lessons, learning and laughter I shared with her, this story was truly worth considering, as she was making a point having to do with me -- her first white friend. \nHopefully -- beyond any language, hair or background differences -- by taking these situations into account, we'd always choose the friendship over drawing new lines.