Dear Prudence,
My husband is Black. I am white. For the past couple of years, we’ve been living on the family farm in the Midwest for a few months a year, to make sure the pipes don’t freeze, keep the vermin down, etc., before another family comes for the summer. My husband isn’t crazy about this arrangement (he’s a city kid, and the farm is in a rural, red area), but loves the family, and realizes we save hella money this way. For the record, we are both progressive politically, feminist, anti-racist, etc.
Well today, out of the blue, he said something that has me seriously considering divorce.
Unprompted, he described the farm (a medium sized white house and three acres, and never more than 120 acres at its max) as “the plantation.”
We have been married for over 30 years. I honestly thought I loved and could trust him. But this comment enraged me and felt like a nasty, deep playing of the race card in some primal, unforgivable way. I felt accused, disrespected, and smeared.
When called on it, he protested first that he genuinely thought the farmhouse was a plantation (because it’s “so big,” which it is not) and then that he had no idea the word “plantation” is associated with slavery. I call bull-puckey. My husband is well-read, well-educated, and savvy. He hooted when it was in the news that a big plantation house down South burned down a few months ago, as did I.
I want to leave him immediately. Am I overreacting?
—Not Scarlett O’Flipping Hara