Mo nighean donn (Gaelic). Translation: My brown haired lass
You’d have to be a fan of the series ‘Outlander’ to truly appreciate what I’ve done with the title of this post. And the answer to your unasked question is, yes. Yes, I’m right proud of myself. It’s a braw thing I’ve done there.
So! Prince Harry is marrying a bi-racial woman. Which is to say he’s marrying a BLACK woman, because in America, the One Drop Rule qualifies you for all kinds of privileges ranging from picking cotton to earning 60 cents to every white man’s dollar. However it now appears that the One Drop Rule can’t disqualify you from marrying into what is arguably the most famous monarchy on the planet (because there are other royal families that rule the globe, but can you name them?) and that’s a good thing. Not because we need the descendants of a pillaging, plundering group of people to validate our Blackness, but because once again, love gets to win despite the odds and optics. That’s always a good thing.
Unless you’ve been living in a room made of aluminum foil, you’ve certainly gotten wind of the news that is dominating the headlines, the Twittasphere and the Book of Many Faces. Among the headlines you may have come across may be these from the Daily Fail, making reference to blondes who got away and so forth. It made me chuckle. Harry Windsor now joins an elect group of men who gazed over the big, blonde world laid out before him and said, “Nah. If the sista will have me, I’ll be hers.” It doesn’t happen very often, so yes, it does bring a smug smile to the lips.
The racial dynamics of this relationship that has those watching either elated, exasperated or enraged, there is an aspect to this union that has me wondering if Meghan and Harry are trolling us in some way. I don’t doubt their mutual affection for each other one bit – Meghan’s least of all because one has to give up a LOT in order to marry into royalty – but I think there’s something else at play that they’re not telling us. The Daily Fail may have unwittingly unearthed a joke at our expense.
You all know that Harry never had it easy growing up, especially after losing his mother, Diana, at such a tender age. You might recall all of the horrible things the British public and the tabloids said about Diana. They said Harry couldn’t possibly be Charles’ son, owing to his red hair. (They called Harry’s momma a hoe, y’all.) They said she was mentally ill. (They called Harry’s momma a crazy hoe, y’all!) They said she was an unfit mother. (Those are just fighting words. Diana was a good, good mother.) Despite growing up in the shadow of the negative press about his family, the shadow of his older (some say hotter) brother, the eclipse of the expectations that come with being the grandson of a monarch, Harry has turned into a decent young man. Sure, he’s shown a lack of propriety (and his ding-a-ling) on occasion, but what young man of wealth and extraordinary means hasn’t let drop his… ‘propriety’ on one occasion or another?
Fortunately, through it all, he had his father Charles; who may have been a crap husband to Diana, but was a heck of a father to his boys. If memory serves me correctly, regular sojourns to Scotland are what brought the three closer together.
You see where this is heading, don’t you?
It was in Scotland that young Prince Harry first heard the tale of James Fraser, a red headed, lad not unlike himself. A youth with a heart for service, a love of country, and the air of a lovable rascal about him. Like young Jaime, Harry was an odd duck and trouble seemed to find him more often than he’d like, but the fates always smiled fondly upon him and guided him through his many scrapes.
Prince Harry would discover that those charms would make him irresistible to the blondes (aka Laoghaires) of his native land, and he would show his regard for them by taking the occasional beating or offer a snog or six in a hidden alcove somewhere. But deep inside, he knew that when the time came, he would need a woman – not a girl – to wife.
Meanwhile, half way across the world, Meghan who is three years Harry’s senior (like Claire to Jaime!) was enjoying the life she’d meticulously built, her profession brining her fulfillment. And like Claire, Meghan had been previously married. This would prove to be a point of contention for the Left Behind Laoghaires who would then go on to offer themselves up to Harry/Jaime because Calire/Meghan is naught more than a ‘used up’ Sassenach/negro wench. But Harry will be having none of that because JUST LIKE JAIME he’s sealed his commitment to Meghan with a ring he designed himself…the key to Lallybroch!
Meghan is Harry’s mo nighean donn: his brown haired lass. That’s all there is to the matter. This will be the romance that we talk about for centuries to come. Mark me.
(Yikes. Maybe I shouldn’t use the words ‘mark me’. It never turned out so well for bonnie Prince Charle when he did.)
Tell me you guys don’t see this! I can’t be the only one who sees what’s going on here. Anyway, the haters be damned. We are here to celebrate this union. 2017 has been a special year for love and babies. Beyoncé had her twins. Serena had a magical wedding in Nawlins. Meghan is recreating her life under the auspices of one of the most successful series in television and print history. All this joy and it ain’t even Christmas yet.