There’s an epidemic plaguing our streets — one that has no carefor class, color, creed or sexual orientation. People are catching itleft and right, yet no one’s doing anything about it.

It’s jungle fever.

That’s right. I dare to write about interracial dating. I’m brazenenough to put it on the pages of The Daily Aztec and brave theresponse.

Why? Because black women are getting left behind, and it’s abouttime we do something about it.

The time is long overdue for black women to branch out like ourmen have. We deserve a good man just as much as the next woman, andthe number of those who come in chocolate is rapidly diminishing.

I don’t completely blame black men — I know you’re an endangeredspecies. I understand the odds are stacked against you and sometimesyou are forced into a lifestyle unbecoming of your stature as a manbecause of the circumstances around you.

I also understand the way many of you have been raised makes youfeel the need to be a man in a way that inevitably results in powerclashes with black women.

But you are not absolved of blame, either. The fact remains: oneof the reasons you are endangered and not dateable is because you’rean “other-lover.”

Maybeit’s because we don’t look like the women in the videos. Is it thatyou’ve ceased to think of your mother, sister and next-door neighboras beautiful and have turned to those on the cover of Cosmo as theembodiment of beauty? Have you forgotten that we naturally have morehips than that? And that we’re just not going to look the same inthat thong?

Perhaps it’s because of the way we were raised. Because women tendto run black households these days, we are becoming more and moreindependent. We think “we don’t really need that man because ourmothers didn’t need one.”

But men saw their mothers struggling to make it. They cursed theirfathers and said they wouldn’t grow up to be that man.

So there’s a conflict — relationships between strong black womenand strong black men result in a power struggle.

Maybe you believe if you take the white man’s daughter, it’spayback — that the system will recognize you as a force to bereckoned with if you have a trophy on your arm. Believe that if youwant, but they’ll get you like the rest of them.

Then there’s the stereotypes we’ve all bought into. Non-blackwomen won’t give you trouble. They’ll buy you whatever you want, fromdinner to the new Jordans. If you’re an athlete, it’s even better.Plus, they won’t talk back or argue like we will. You can be the manthat you know you can be — the man you’ve been practicing to be foryears.

Newsflash for those who actually believe these things: women arewomen. That’s it and that’s all.

Of course, these are generalizations.

Who knows why men do the things they do? I can only offer maybes.I’m not in the mind of any black man, let alone all of them.

But I know me. Although my dream man comes in a deep chocolatehue, and that’s what I look for, I have to admit I have dated outsideof my race. Love comes in all colors and lust just doesn’t care. So Ican’t rule out the possibility that there are real relationships inthis world that happen to be between two people of differentethnicities.

But I’m not talking about these relationships. I’m talking aboutjungle fever — the black man in the streets with an “other” on hisarm. He can’t look at me, or if he does, it’s treated as an apology.

I just can’t believe he’s with her because he likes herpersonality. If that were the case, wouldn’t he look me in the eyeand say hello?

I have no cure for this epidemic. What I can offer is a treatment.

Black women — stop waiting for that perfect ebony prince on hisblack horse. Get out into the world and taste flavors besideschocolate. Why not?

I know why not. It’s hard for us to think about. We look at ourmen and their “loves” and turn up our noses; how can we turn aroundand do it ourselves? Isn’t that betraying our race?

Believe me, dating someone non-black doesn’t make you any lessblack, though it may make you more of a woman.

Really, what choice do we have? It’s getting to the point where wecan sit lonely, settle for someone just because he’s black or wise upand explore.

Think about it. Aren’t most of us getting exasperated with theblack men we have to choose from? And if you’re on the darker side ofthe spectrum, isn’t it that much harder to get a decent black man?

Do you know how many non-black men are out there waiting for youto notice them? The ones who have Halle Berry and Tyra Banks on theirwalls. The ones that have all of Angela Bassett’s movies and Mary J.Blige’s CDs just to look at them. They look at you in class and thinkyou’re beautiful. Smile at one and see what happens.

I see black women out with boyfriends of other races, and I wantto ask her where she found hIm.

Am I a traitor? No, I’m just fed up.

Nobody has to listen to me. But you may want to think about it.For black men, if I’m coming at you all wrong, prove it. Notnecessarily to me — prove it to your girlfriend, or the next womanyou want to talk to.

Prove you’re not trifling, that there are still decent black menout there who aren’t fed up with us. Prove you haven’t forgotten allof your home training.

If you’re lucky enough to be in a black/black relationship,cherish it. The next time you go out, tell your significant other howhappy you are to have him or her in your life. Do whatever you can tomake your someone feel special.

As for me, I may follow my own advice. I may also hold out for myebony prince. Whatever happens, I promise I will look you in the eyeand say hello.

Ain’t no shame in my game.

Candace Moore is an English senior and copy editor for The DailyAztec. Send e-mail to daletter2000@hotmail.com.

— This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of TheDaily Aztec.