A few days ago, one of my friends requested that I speak with her daughter, in reference to her skin complexion. Her concern was that her daughter did not find the inherent beauty in her skin, and viewed her skin as "ugly" and "unattractive". I can only imagine the inner turmoil a thirteen year old must endure, as she attempts to navigate not only puberty, but the fact that regardless of who she is, people will only know her as the skin she's in.
When I was growing up, I was the person in my house with the darkest complexion. And I wore it with a badge of honor. With coarse, thick, kinky hair, and the complexion to match, I knew that I was beautiful. I had to be, because my mom and dad told me so. My mother would shower my sister and I with how beautiful our complexions were, regardless of the polarity of our skin tones. My father, a typical Black man from West Baltimore, highlighted the differences in our complexions, with nicknames like "Chocolate" and "Light Bright", with a slew of compliments that followed. We grew up seeing our grandmother, whose skin was as dark as the night sky, and our grandfather, who became darker with age, and how they birthed a generation with as many colors of the rainbow. Not once was complexion a factor. It was nothing to hear how each complexion was beautiful, and how our complexions showed the history of a people too resilient to let captivity break their spirits.
Throughout my life, complexions were represented in a way that highlighted the perfection of each, without degrading the other. However, I am well aware of the bubble I lived in. Remember the Kenya doll? We had her. In two different complexions. Remember Kid Sister? We had the Black one. Any and everything that promoted the love for our Blackness, we had, watched, read, and listened to. We were taught to love who we were, within the context of the greater world. I realized as an adult, how truly blessed I am to have parents that not only loved me, but loved the Black me, and wanted her to shine and be seen.
In the 1940s, psychologists Kenneth and Mamie Clark conducted a series of experiments, widely known as the Clark and Clark Doll studies. During these studies, Black children were asked to identify dolls, based on negative and positive attributes. Majority of the children gave positive attributes to the White dolls, and attributing the negative attributes to the dolls of color. As much as we want to believe that colorism no longer exists in the Black community, we have to acknowledge the fact that it does, and we are the ones to perpetuate the notion that one color is inferior to another. It starts as babies, actually. My Black mother knew she was raising Black daughters, so she gave us our identity, before the world decided what we were. As an educator and activist, it is wonderful to see so many images of Black people, flourishing and glowing, and being represented in various arenas. However, there are still some things that need to change, in the home and out of the home.
There is a show on the Disney Channel, called "K.C. Undercover". It stars Zendaya, Kadeem Hardison, and other black actors. I love Zendaya, and everything she stands for, but my child does not watch this show. Here is why. As positive as Zendaya is (I definitely follow her on Instagram), she is the hero, the beauty, and the intelligent one. The girl who plays the robot is darker skinned, and is annoying, obnoxious, and is not seen as "cute". Every young lady that is blessed with a darker complexion is the comic relief, and seen as the "best friend". She will never be the smartest, the prettiest, or the most popular. She will always be in the shadow of her lighter hued friend. This has been a trend throughout media history, and we allow our children to absorb the notion that Black is not beautiful, and that the darker you are, the less attractive you are. We become caricatures, sidekicks, and the butt of jokes. We support the notion that Blacker is not good, and that Light is right. How many times was Pam made to be the comic relief, the loud obnoxious one, where Gina was made to be the object of desire for the main character? Shows still perpetuate the stereotype of the loud, angry, darker friend. She typically has a hard time finding a man, is not as smart, and is not as successful.
How many of you remember the dreaded crayon box? You know the one where it was supposed to represent skin tones? I don't even think my complexion was in that box. I remember having to make self-portraits in school by mixing brown with yellow, to match my hue. But, nonetheless, I loved my skin. In 2017, there seems to be a resurgence of inexplicable self-hate. From the beautiful Lil Kim, changing her entire face and tone, to women in different African countries opting to bleach their skin, to the representations of black beauty being of a fairer complexion, with numerous surgical enhancements, it is no wonder that a thirteen year old girl has issues with her complexion. The very things that she watches tells her, to her face, that she is not good enough. How do we as parents and educators combat this?
I have a wonderful group of friends. All with different personalities and ideologies. Some of my friends praise the way I raise my daughter, while others think I am too strict. My response? My child knows who she is. As mothers, we love our daughters, but do we love our BLACK daughters? When we comb their hair, do we over-exaggerate the thickness of the coils, and are quick to slap a perm or a weave into our Black daughter's hair? This action tells her "Your hair is not good enough". When we send them outside to play, do we over-exaggerate the fact that they will get kissed by the Sun, and make continuous comments about not getting "too dark"? We perpetuate the stereotype that darker ain't better. It saddens me that in 2017 , we are still suffering from the effects of slavery, and are unable to see the trauma we pass down to our children.
What can we do? As teachers, we need to ensure that educational resources are truly reflective of the demographics of the classroom. As parents, there are so many things we can do to love our black babies. First, teach them who they are. There is no reason that as Black people, we confine our quest for cultural knowledge to the parameters of Black History Month. We must embrace who we are, on our terms, without waiting for societal permission to embrace our dark hues. Representation matters so much. Children should see pictures of great leaders in the Black community, and there needs to be a deliberate installation of history and pride in who we are, into the very spirits of our youth. We understand that colorism exists, and the media pushes this image on us continuously. Crazy thing is, we let them do it! Studies have shown that children who lack a racial identity are more likely to perform poorer in school, and have more mental health concerns, than children who have a strong sense of self. So what can we do?
As parents, we need to provide our children with positive images of Black excellence and beauty, and this begins with how we choose to embrace our beauty and strength. It's actually easy to do. Step one: Turn off the television. Step two: Affirm Black beauty. That's it. We have to get to the point as a people that we will not accept other's ideas of representation, and will not seek acceptance, but rather embrace the hues that exist throughout the Diaspora. There is no way that a thirteen year old should feel that she is not "good enough", based on her complexion, in 2017. For me to love my daughter, I need to love and embrace her, and put images around her that celebrate her beauty, ingenuity, and strength as a Black woman. I love and cherish my daughter, but I honor and celebrate my Black daughter, skin and all.
When I was growing up, I was the person in my house with the darkest complexion. And I wore it with a badge of honor. With coarse, thick, kinky hair, and the complexion to match, I knew that I was beautiful. I had to be, because my mom and dad told me so. My mother would shower my sister and I with how beautiful our complexions were, regardless of the polarity of our skin tones. My father, a typical Black man from West Baltimore, highlighted the differences in our complexions, with nicknames like "Chocolate" and "Light Bright", with a slew of compliments that followed. We grew up seeing our grandmother, whose skin was as dark as the night sky, and our grandfather, who became darker with age, and how they birthed a generation with as many colors of the rainbow. Not once was complexion a factor. It was nothing to hear how each complexion was beautiful, and how our complexions showed the history of a people too resilient to let captivity break their spirits.
Throughout my life, complexions were represented in a way that highlighted the perfection of each, without degrading the other. However, I am well aware of the bubble I lived in. Remember the Kenya doll? We had her. In two different complexions. Remember Kid Sister? We had the Black one. Any and everything that promoted the love for our Blackness, we had, watched, read, and listened to. We were taught to love who we were, within the context of the greater world. I realized as an adult, how truly blessed I am to have parents that not only loved me, but loved the Black me, and wanted her to shine and be seen.
In the 1940s, psychologists Kenneth and Mamie Clark conducted a series of experiments, widely known as the Clark and Clark Doll studies. During these studies, Black children were asked to identify dolls, based on negative and positive attributes. Majority of the children gave positive attributes to the White dolls, and attributing the negative attributes to the dolls of color. As much as we want to believe that colorism no longer exists in the Black community, we have to acknowledge the fact that it does, and we are the ones to perpetuate the notion that one color is inferior to another. It starts as babies, actually. My Black mother knew she was raising Black daughters, so she gave us our identity, before the world decided what we were. As an educator and activist, it is wonderful to see so many images of Black people, flourishing and glowing, and being represented in various arenas. However, there are still some things that need to change, in the home and out of the home.
There is a show on the Disney Channel, called "K.C. Undercover". It stars Zendaya, Kadeem Hardison, and other black actors. I love Zendaya, and everything she stands for, but my child does not watch this show. Here is why. As positive as Zendaya is (I definitely follow her on Instagram), she is the hero, the beauty, and the intelligent one. The girl who plays the robot is darker skinned, and is annoying, obnoxious, and is not seen as "cute". Every young lady that is blessed with a darker complexion is the comic relief, and seen as the "best friend". She will never be the smartest, the prettiest, or the most popular. She will always be in the shadow of her lighter hued friend. This has been a trend throughout media history, and we allow our children to absorb the notion that Black is not beautiful, and that the darker you are, the less attractive you are. We become caricatures, sidekicks, and the butt of jokes. We support the notion that Blacker is not good, and that Light is right. How many times was Pam made to be the comic relief, the loud obnoxious one, where Gina was made to be the object of desire for the main character? Shows still perpetuate the stereotype of the loud, angry, darker friend. She typically has a hard time finding a man, is not as smart, and is not as successful.
How many of you remember the dreaded crayon box? You know the one where it was supposed to represent skin tones? I don't even think my complexion was in that box. I remember having to make self-portraits in school by mixing brown with yellow, to match my hue. But, nonetheless, I loved my skin. In 2017, there seems to be a resurgence of inexplicable self-hate. From the beautiful Lil Kim, changing her entire face and tone, to women in different African countries opting to bleach their skin, to the representations of black beauty being of a fairer complexion, with numerous surgical enhancements, it is no wonder that a thirteen year old girl has issues with her complexion. The very things that she watches tells her, to her face, that she is not good enough. How do we as parents and educators combat this?
I have a wonderful group of friends. All with different personalities and ideologies. Some of my friends praise the way I raise my daughter, while others think I am too strict. My response? My child knows who she is. As mothers, we love our daughters, but do we love our BLACK daughters? When we comb their hair, do we over-exaggerate the thickness of the coils, and are quick to slap a perm or a weave into our Black daughter's hair? This action tells her "Your hair is not good enough". When we send them outside to play, do we over-exaggerate the fact that they will get kissed by the Sun, and make continuous comments about not getting "too dark"? We perpetuate the stereotype that darker ain't better. It saddens me that in 2017 , we are still suffering from the effects of slavery, and are unable to see the trauma we pass down to our children.
What can we do? As teachers, we need to ensure that educational resources are truly reflective of the demographics of the classroom. As parents, there are so many things we can do to love our black babies. First, teach them who they are. There is no reason that as Black people, we confine our quest for cultural knowledge to the parameters of Black History Month. We must embrace who we are, on our terms, without waiting for societal permission to embrace our dark hues. Representation matters so much. Children should see pictures of great leaders in the Black community, and there needs to be a deliberate installation of history and pride in who we are, into the very spirits of our youth. We understand that colorism exists, and the media pushes this image on us continuously. Crazy thing is, we let them do it! Studies have shown that children who lack a racial identity are more likely to perform poorer in school, and have more mental health concerns, than children who have a strong sense of self. So what can we do?
As parents, we need to provide our children with positive images of Black excellence and beauty, and this begins with how we choose to embrace our beauty and strength. It's actually easy to do. Step one: Turn off the television. Step two: Affirm Black beauty. That's it. We have to get to the point as a people that we will not accept other's ideas of representation, and will not seek acceptance, but rather embrace the hues that exist throughout the Diaspora. There is no way that a thirteen year old should feel that she is not "good enough", based on her complexion, in 2017. For me to love my daughter, I need to love and embrace her, and put images around her that celebrate her beauty, ingenuity, and strength as a Black woman. I love and cherish my daughter, but I honor and celebrate my Black daughter, skin and all.
Awesome blog....
ReplyDeleteThank you so much! We fail to realize the damage colorism does to our young people. Thank you for the support!
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