As if race relations aren’t complex enough in this country, along comes a feminist and ‘sexuality educator’ who advises white women of “seven things to remember” if they happen to date a “person of color.”

I kid you not.

Melissa Fabello is an expert, you see, because she’s in her third interracial relationship. Why any of these wonderful pairings haven’t turned into anything more permanent is because the woman is a total buzzkill.

As she puts it: “Because when you’re a white person in an interracial relationship, there’s this whole – ohhh, ya know – white supremacy thing hanging in the air.” The first bit of advice she gives the reader is to “be willing to talk about race.” And then, “Being honest about the ways in which race is complex – both inside and outside of your relationship – shows a willingness to engage with a part of your partner’s identity and experience in a way that really holds them.”

Awkwaaaard. . .

And about your family? Oh, be prepared, she advises. People you love are gar-on-teed to make racist comments. “Whether it’s your well-meaning family or your supposed-to-be-socially-conscious friends, sometimes people are going to say or do things that are f**ked up. And it’s your job – both as the partner and a fellow white person – to say something.”

I’ll bet family get-togethers at the holidays are a real joy with this gal (yes, I said “gal”).

Oh, and you, the white suprema-, er, partner in the interracial relationship better be on your toes as well. Fabello says you’re going to say racist things at some time or another: “Because as white people, we’ve been socialized racist, whether we like it or not and whether we believe it’ll play out in our love lives or not – and as such, even a “joke” can be rooted in some really f**ked up, deep seated beliefs.”

Oh, bullcrap.

I know something about relationships between whites and “people of color,” and that’s because my eldest daughter has been married to a young man of Latino background for ten years.

Erika is of primarily German background, and Nick’s parents are immigrants from Nicaragua and Colombia. (Naturalized citizens, too, I would add.) They began dating the summer of their junior year in high school, and the relationship grew legs, lasting through her years at a small Iowa college and his at the U.S. Naval Academy. They married three weeks after their respective graduations.

Ethnicity was never an issue, neither for Nick and Erika, nor for the families. The only time I recall Erika bringing up the issue was when they first started dating.

She and I had gone shopping, and on the drive home, Erika unexpectedly asked, “Mom, do you care that Nick’s Hispanic?”

Without pausing I answered, “No. I only care how he treats you.”

The issue was never brought up again.

Ten years later they have a marriage that would be a model for any young couple. They now have a very handsome and well-loved little boy.

Here is Erika with her in-laws at the event of our grandson’s Baptism.

And here is Nick with our family, at the same event.

(My husband has this thing for Hawaiian shirts, and, yes, he incorrectly “appropriates” the Hawaiian culture. Too bad.)

I cannot imagine having a better son-in-law than Nick. I cannot imagine better in-laws for my daughter than Nick’s parents.

So why don’t the ethnic differences impact their relationship?

It’s simple, really. Both families are proudly American. Both are deeply Christian. Those attributes are uniters, not dividers. And those are things that radical feminists like Melissa Fabello, who constantly sees herself as part of a social group determined by leftist parameters, reject. What a sad life she must lead.