[Unlike most of what I print here, the piece below is based primarily on anecdotal experience, more essay than editorial. It should most definitely be taken in that vein, as your mileage may vary considerably.]

Over on Half the Sins of Mankind, PG has an interesting essay on a topic close to my heart: the desires of some members (particularly parents) of some ethnic groups to make sure that their children "marry within the fold":

Sadly, I have become so Americanized that I'm skeptical, not only of this prioritization of information, but even of the necessity of marrying an Indian guy. It would be nice to marry one, but sort of in the same way that it would be nice to marry someone who made enough money that I wouldn't have to produce income and could sit at home and write romance novels if I felt like it. (And if anyone can find me a guy who would respect that as a career, please forward his bio-data immediately.)...

I strongly suspect that many of the people who consciously seek out a spouse of the same ethnic or religious background do so because they know it matters to their parents. And certainly my parents would much prefer a beach-loving, country music-hating, BS in computer science-carrying Republican who was a Hindu Indian to anyone who otherwise fit my preferences perfectly but was not. Still, I've seen enough Indian kids marrying non-Indians to think that our parents are actually more tolerant and fonder of us than we think.

If you bring someone home and everyone says, "He's a nice guy, but he's not the right race/religion/whatever," then they'll probably get over that problem eventually. If everyone thinks he's an asshole, that might be a Sign. People can become honorary members of your group -- oh, the white people we have taught to eat with their hands! -- but asshole-ness is forever.

I've been fortunate in this: I have two parents who have had only one real concern when it comes to my dating habits. They'd like me to be happy with my partner. They've been really, seriously supportive in almost every relationship I've had, even with partners who I'm quite certain didn't fit their ideal conception of marriage material. (Let's put it this way: if you come from a family of staunch Republicans, imagine the fear of innumerable Christmas dinners with an outspoken Democrat in-law...) I've rarely been concerned that when bringing someone home they'd be treated with anything but respect.

On the other hand, I've been in relationships where I was the outsider. It's never comfortable, and I'll admit that I'm unlikely to do so seriously again. The difficulties are too severe for me anymore: no matter how strong the love between two people, blood runs thick. On the one side, there's always family pressure to "look at this good boy--he's a friend of the family, you should at least meet him, even if you are seeing X." On the other side, the knowledge that there's a perpetual fifth-column at the very least passively trying to undermine your relationship can foster a certain sense of paranoia. Perhaps other people manage it well, but it's not been pleasant in my experience.

But of course, our troubles are sometimes our best teachers, as are our scars. I know I'm sensitive to some things I probably shouldn't be. (I've been known to leave conversations where the term shiksa, which I find horribly offensive, was used by one or another party.) On the other hand, I'm ever more committed to the idea that all humanity really shares the same heart, a point best expressed by P. J. O'Rourke:

Finally, people are all exactly alike. There is no such thing as a race and barely such a thing as an ethnic group. If we were dogs, we'd be the same breed. George Bush and an Australian aborigine have fewer differences than a lhasa apso and a fox terrier. A Japanese raised in Riyadh would be an Arab. A Zulu raised in New Rochelle would be an orthodontist. I wish I could say I found this out by spending arctic nights on ice flows with Inuit elders and by sitting with tribal medicine men over fires made of human bones in Madagascar. But, actually, I found it out by sleeping around. People are all the same, though their circumstances differ terribly."

But then, even the most staunch conservative believes in some tradition that's not worth keeping.

[1]: This is just one more example of my Bad Republicanism. As one English friend pointed out, I use public transport, my last car got over 35 miles to the gallon, I'm quite comfortable with premarital sex and interracial dating: the fellow is still seriously concerned that I'll get kicked out of the Party one day.