I remember sitting in my room on November 4th, BBMing, AIMing, GChatting, and texting with a large number of my friends as the numeric ass-kicking of John McCain cemented the future of Barack Obama as our next President. During our usual political play-by-play conversation my good friend, business partner, and fellow Obamaniac proclaimed, "Obama never woulda made it this far if he was my color." I started to immediately fire back "that's not true!", but I stopped myself - because I didn't know how true or untrue his statement was. But I do know, that for as long as the issue of racism has been an external oppressive force on Black people, colorism, has been a self-inflicted wound with no signs of healing on the horizon.
I usually give in to my friends musings of me being hella yella, manila, paleskin one, beige, mother of pearl, light bright, and any other allusion of brightness you could imagine. And of course, I have spent an absorbed amount of my time in the sun, trying hard to jack up my melanin count. In addition to that, my usual defense is "it's funny how making fun of light skinned people is laughable, but the second I make a joke about you being dark, its cruel, insensitive, and an exhibition of self hatred", to which the reply is almost unanimously, "shut up...you're people got to be in the house while mine were out in the field." (Sidebar: amazing how we can make light of some of the most damaging times of our people and our own history, huh? I'm not on my soapbox, because I'm guilty of it too. Just pointing it out...)
I had a friend in high school and throughout my early college years who was very pretty, and very brown. She had everything I wanted - huge boobs, a small waist, and a huge ass, and nice brown skin. We used to joke about trades and exchanges all the time. I noticed that during our morning-after-clubbing re-caps, she would make comments like "I hate going out with you, all the guys wanna talk to you because you're light skinned and have long hair." I laughed it off then, saying "yea they talk, til they realize I've got no ass....then they go to
you." But more and more her comments became a reflection of serious self esteem issues of a woman of color - living in a world where the values of beauty are as conflicted as the people that created them. Its been long held the standard that, the closer to white you are, the more beautiful you are. If this is true, how did this syndrome of spending ridiculous amounts of money tanning, botox lip injecting, booty and breast implanting begin?But I digress. I also have an ex, who fell on the far light end of the spectrum - light eyes, sandy brown hair and all. Our own friends and families made fun, saying out kids would come out clear...and if they're any darker, I cheated (lol). But all too often, I caught musings from darker male friends of mine, with their Kanye'd musings - "Ima make sure these light skinned n----s never ever ever come back in style". More often than not, during our intimate, intellectual conversations, he would reveal how he felt and dealt with the same feelings of rejection experienced by my other friend, but on a more 'universal' level. He felt rejected by Black people, and felt that he was never taken seriously because his skin color undermined any good work or positive words he would commit.
I know we've all seen this clip a thousand times, but look/listen with a new pair of eyes as you continue reading....
We all understand the crux and foundation of color values, dating back to slavery. But how do we do we move past these seemingly ingrained notions and stigmatizations of color, and begin to absorb and value beauty for the myriad of shades and flavors it comes in? Is my claim to Blackness less valid because I happen to be a mutt? If we keep it real (which we always do at LB anyway), no descendant of enslaved Africans in this country is 100% anything. I'm not - but I don't walk around wearing it on a t-shirt either. My dad is half German, and my mom's parents are Creole. I get mistaken for being every kind of mix, for some reason. My sister and I have the same biological parents (although you'd never be able to guess...we look nothing alike), and she is never mistaken for anything other than Black (well maybe sometimes Ethiopian). I'm slightly uncomfortable in my own skin - but who isn't really? We all have things we'd like to change about ourselves. I've never mistaken myself to try to understand the challenges of another person, I don't know what its like to walk in their shoes. I don't know how it feels to be invisible to the opposite sex, because you're a darker-skinned woman. I can't tell you how it is to have everyone fear you as a tall dark man. I can't tell you what its like to be a light skinned male that is apparently now 'out of style'. I can only tell you me - and I can only halfway do that, at best. Everyone thinks oh, life is so easy for you, the light skinned curly/wavy haired girl with a normal name. Truth be told, I don't know what my "perks" are - and perhaps it is of the same vain as white privilege - not fully understanding/recognizing its existence when you have lived within its confines and nowhere else.
Would have Obama had the same galvanizing effect, if he were perhaps, five shades darker? In the Jim Crow south, did Dr. King's color work to his advantage with Black people, or to his detriment with whites, (given that many revered black leaders and scholars, with the exception of Marcus Garvey have by and large been of lighter complexions)? Does my skin color open more doors than it closes?
This is one of those blogs for me, that is very limited by my personal experiences, and ends on a rather open note. So, on behalf of LB I am opening the floodgates of commentry - post your thoughts, feelings, comments and experiences... I look forward to hearing what everyone has to say, and engaging in an interesting dialogue.
Go forth, drop knowledge, tell your friends to do the same....
