
by Nona Blyth Cloud
We sometimes forget how closely History is following behind us. Just over 50 years ago, it was still illegal for people of different races to marry in 16 U.S. states, mostly in the South. It wasn’t until 1967 that the Supreme Court ruled in Loving v. Virginia that such laws were unconstitutional.
So when Canadian emigrant Eric Trethewey and Mississippian Gwendolyn Ann Turnbough met at Kentucky State College and fell in love, they had to cross the state line into Ohio to be married. He became a professor and author, she became a social worker. Their daughter Natasha was born in 1966 in Gulfport, Mississippi.
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Miscegenation
by Natasha Trethewey
In 1965 my parents broke two laws of Mississippi;
they went to Ohio to marry, returned to Mississippi.
They crossed the river into Cincinnati, a city whose name
begins with a sound like sin, the sound of wrong—mis in Mississippi.
A year later they moved to Canada, followed a route the same
as slaves, the train slicing the white glaze of winter, leaving Mississippi.
Faulkner’s Joe Christmas was born in winter, like Jesus, given his name
for the day he was left at the orphanage, his race unknown in Mississippi.
My father was reading War and Peace when he gave me my name.
I was born near Easter, 1966, in Mississippi.
When I turned 33 my father said, It’s your Jesus year—you’re the same
age he was when he died. It was spring, the hills green in Mississippi.
I know more than Joe Christmas did. Natasha is a Russian name—
though I’m not; it means Christmas child, even in Mississippi.
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