Oh 'Rene

Clare Kendry's diary, shortly after the NWL ball.

November 14, 1927

I ran into Brian today. Ever since that dance...I can't believe I was so blinded to the heights that men of our race could reach. I can tell that he's unhappy, but there's a kind of sweetness that comes out whenever I see him. We've taken to having lunch without 'Rene. Her cold looks and stuffy demeanor (if I had a nickel for every time she said “Brian!”) just seem to ruin any occasion. I still can't move past that time at her house. She invited me for tea but didn't say a word to me all evening. Even so, I could feel the waves of resentment radiating from her. If she has a grievance with me, why wouldn't she just come out and say it?

November 30, 1927

Irene, that hypocrite! The more Brian tells me about life with her, the more I come to dislike her. She loves to look down on me for passing and tolerating Jack's racism, but now I hear that she passes just as often as I. “Passing for social reasons,” as if that's somehow different from what I did? And to hear of the beastly things her boys go through at school. She can't seem to imagine a life outside of her own, one where Negroes have to confront everyday difficulties that can't be solved through tickets to trip the light fantastic. I know that I've benefited from my coloring, but at least I know that not every Negro has had it as well as me. And now she wants to begrudge my renewed interest in my own race? The gall of this woman.

December 5, 1927

I've had a letter sitting on my desk for the evening now, but I just can't bring myself to send it to Brian. I know that I'm spoiling things between him and 'Rene, but I won't be the one to drive the nail in the coffin. 'Rene loves to think I'm just a pretty face, but I'm perceptive enough to realize that the Redfield's marriage is just as flimsy and materialistic as my own. Except in 'Rene's case she wanted a lovely, respectable Negro man to prop up her feeble pretenses about her love...no I just can't bring myself to ruin her name like that. And to ruin my own as well, letting the world know how I've coyly played to her passions? No, I'll just burn the damned thing.

December 20, 1927

Oh 'Rene, it's decided. After all she's said about her work with the NWL and how we more privileged Negroes should be working to uplift the race, she will be so excited about my decision to try and throw off Jack. No, I shouldn't deceive myself...instead, she be so cold, so full of questions. She has opened my eyes to the fact that I've been content to sit in a cage just to live all “dicty,” as she would say, but I know that she regrets it. Well, it's too late now. I'm willing to give it all up to be able to live with some integrity, to be able to look at myself in the mirror again. She'll never know how much I love her for that.

The Urban League: the real life equivalent to the Negro Welfare League