My mother had a black boyfriend before she met my dad (1960s England) - makes me a little proud and tearful.
Though now she's old and racist.
Why does it make you proud? What does it even have to do with you?
Makes me proud because she stood up to racism in an era when having a black boyfriend as a white woman would have been difficult.
Hence I'm proud of my mother for not giving a shit what other people may have thought.
And the op it about a fact i know - I know this fact.