The Blacker the Berry, the Sweeter the Juice

My Personal Experience on Colourism

 

I want to state in the very beginning that I love my skin. I love that I’m a black woman, a dark-skinned black woman at that. I’ve accepted that I’m in the body God destined for me. Although the world may not see my beauty or have chosen to see my blackness as something to hate or ignore, I love being black.

I didn’t always though.

Actually, at one point I hated being black but mostly I just hated having dark skin. I didn’t believe I was pretty. I spent my entire teenage life battling with myself about my appearance. I truly believed that if I had lighter skin, looser curls, straight white teeth and light-coloured eyes, only then could I be considered pretty.  This was a mindset I’ve worked very hard to change. Very hard. It literally took me years to appreciate my skin complexion, love my coily, kinky (or as my hair was usually referred to as “nappy”) hair, my gapped teeth and natural brown eyes.

The concept of colourism was exposed to me first around the age of 9 years old. At the time, I had just been given my own room and my own T.V. I would stay up way past my bedtime to watch different shows on Family channel (which is basically the equivalent to Disney channel for my Americans). 

Amongst That’s So Raven, Smart Guy, Sister Sister and other predominantly black shows, Sinbad was a show I watched every night. It came on at 9 pm (which was technically my bedtime but I guess you call me a little rebel). There was one episode, called My Daughter’s Keeper, which exposed me to the problem of colourism.

In one specific scene, Zana and one of the guest stars are having a little tea party. In casual conversation, the guest star brings up that Zana is pretty because she passes the brown paper bag test. She said she was taught that only people with the same shade or lighter than the paper bag were considered beautiful. As L.J., Zana’s dark-skinned brother approaches the table to join the young girls, the guest star puts the paper bag up to his face and made remarks about how he doesn’t pass the test. He’s immediately offended and swats the bag away from him and steps back. It was an interesting moment for me because Sinbad went on to explain how wrong it is to separate black people based on their skin tone and how we’re all black regardless; the only thing that matters is who we are inside. I highly consider you watch the episode to get the full context and learn more because this episode did a great job of exposing the intersectionalities of colourism and classism in which how they negatively impact the black community.

I later learned on my own that colourism is reflective of how slave masters would allow lighter-skin enslaved people to work in the house while darker-skinned people worked in the fields. It perpetuated the notion that the closer you are to whiteness the "more acceptable" you were by staying in the house. Many of the lighter-skinned enslaved people were actually a result of rape (often violent and repetitive) by the slave owner. This alone is horrifying, yet light skin in the black community was and still is considered more beautiful despite its origins.

Do you know the phrase “ignorance is bliss”? I believe this to some extent because before learning about colourism I never saw skin complexion as an issue. But fast forward to middle school, I was recalling how this realization of the “paper bag test” negatively affected how I viewed myself, my fellow black friends and family, the media I consumed, and the world overall.

Despite growing up around predominantly black people and other people of colour, I realized how much anti-blackness and colourism I was constantly exposed to. That’s not to say white people don’t perpetuate these notions as well, but I didn’t grow up around a lot of white people to speak on or even recall many interactions that could say otherwise. I went to an all-black church; all of my family members are black with the exception of two mixed cousins, and most of my friend groups in school were mostly people of colour.

I remember as early as the 6th grade hearing other black girls, who were darker than me, complain about being dark. Whether it be church or school, they would explicitly say they wanted lighter skin or would make reference to how they just hated their dark skin. 

No one liked to stay in the sun for too long for fear of getting darker. They looked at me crazy for basking in the warm sun. They’d stay inside as much as possible or only stand in the shade while our non-black counterparts (who are technically more at risk for playing out in the sun) remained in the sun for as long as they wanted. 

I remember watching the interactions between other boys (mainly black boys) towards lighter-skinned girls compared to darker-skinned girls. It was almost as if colourism only worked in opposition to dark skin girls because all black boys (light or dark) would still be considered desirable and they all would chase after and give significantly more attention to light skin girls. It didn’t matter if she was rude, or didn’t have all the “pretty features” I listed above. If she was light skin, especially mixed with black and white, she was considered desirable.

I thought it was weird. I couldn't quite understand the obsession. In all honesty, it didn’t bother me that much at first. But it became a serious issue when I started to hear and read more and more demeaning and negative comments about dark skin girls. 

“They’re loud, they’re ghetto, they’re hoes, they’re ugly, they’re cockroaches, they’re dirty, they’re burnt cookies.” 

“I would never date a dark skin girl. I only want lighter skin babies.”

“My wife cannot be darker than me."

And most of these comments came from the mouths of dark-skinned black boys. Boys that looked just like me. They looked like my brother, my dad, my uncles, my cousins. Some of these comments were even made by other dark-skinned girls. Many who happened to be even darker than me. Doesn’t that sound like nonsense? How could you hate someone with the same skin colour as you? I mean racism is one thing but being discriminated against by your own people? It’s real. It happens. Yet, it’s never discussed. 

Dark-skinned black women were always the butt of the jokes while others laughed or sat in silence - well more like compliance. I can only recall one girl that would call them out for making such poor, colourist jokes but it didn’t matter. You were gaslighted for speaking out on it or engulfed in the jokes. In-person was one thing but I couldn’t get away from it because these “jokes” continued to be shared in online platforms such as Facebook and Twitter. This was also the era when everyone light skin had ‘LightSkinnn’ or something similar in their profile name like it was a status symbol or badge to be worn.

Every channel I watched on T.V., I would count the amount of dark-skinned black girls I saw - usually none. Channels that are supposedly marketed to black people like B.E.T. was almost the same. Lots of dark-skin men but never dark skin women. I can only recall Mary J. Blige, Missy Elliot, Kelly Rowland as the only dark-skinned women I saw pop up from time to time. Even as I write this, I can’t think of any others. That was it.

On top of that, the dark-skinned men portrayed were always “thugs” or “drug dealers” - always with a hyper-masculine, hyper-sexualized, or violent persona. They were rappers and spoke harshly, often playing “the bad boy” image. On the other hand, the lighter skin men were singers, more soft-spoken and appearing “feminine” in comparison. Regardless of these stereotypes, both men were desired.

However, these stereotypes only led to further degradation of dark-skinned black women. We were seen as masculine and over-sexualized objects to be watched and analyzed but rarely anyone wanted to be associated with. I even have an uncle that routinely brings around different women to family gatherings but she’s rarely black or never dark-skinned. It almost solidified that dark skin women aren’t enough. We were not desired.

This is when I truly started to hate my skin. I hated being a dark skin girl. I constantly thought about it. Randomly at different points in the day, I would daydream about how much better my life would be if I had lighter skin. It was almost to the point where I was mad at my parents for choosing each other. Why would they choose another dark-skinned person to procreate with? Why would they want to be with someone as dark as them? I would actually be upset. I went as far as to solely use cremes and face washes with salicylic acid due to its effects of helping with acne by eliminating dead skin cells, which often left the skin appearing lighter. I even considered bleaching my skin but was scared of damaging it and embarrassed that I’d have to explain that I damaged it because I wanted to have lighter skin.

Some of my self-hate started to transfer to hate others that I wanted to look like. Hate that was rooted in envy. I would even question all of my interactions with others, especially black people.

“Would this guy like me more if I had lighter skin?”

“Do my light skin friends think they’re prettier than me because I’m dark?”

“Does my family actually think I’m beautiful? Would I be complimented more if I was lighter?”

These were the self-hating thoughts that roamed my mind. They were less frequent in my high school and university days and almost non-existent now but these were the things I would say to myself because I couldn't shake the feeling that my dark skin made me a victim.

Luckily in recent years, there’s been a major shift. In this day-in-age of social media and more personal content being easily accessible and shared globally, we’re finally starting to see my darker-skinned women in media. Not just seeing them, but seeing them in a positive light. Not just black darker-skinned women, we’re also seeing dark skin South Asian and South American women, too. Dark skinned women are starting to be glorified and showcased more favourably in media - commercials, music videos, magazine, T.V. show protagonists, etc. Social media also allows you to actively fill your timeline with women that look like you by following certain accounts or hashtags thus feeding ourselves the much-needed representation that media was lacking.

It’s crazy now to hear so many people, especially lighter-skinned black people complain about not getting dark enough. I always laugh when I hear them literally making time to get tanned and look darker. They hate how pale they get when wintertime rolls around. This narrative is the complete opposite of what I experienced growing up. Although I love to see black people embracing their change in complexion, I can’t seem to get over the fact that the obsession to be darker stems from a trend of how great tanned skin looks. We have to be honest and acknowledge the ability to choose to have darker skin is unknown to those that are naturally dark skin all year round. In a way, it’s a privilege to pick and choose when you want to be “dark”. These are some of the thoughts I have to unlearn because for so long it was hard to believe that people actually appreciated dark skin.

It’s still important to continue showing an accurate representation of dark skin women. As a young girl, it would’ve made all the difference for me to be exposed to what I’m seeing now. There were so many years I didn’t feel enough and hated my appearance simply because I didn’t believe I was desired. I used to link my dark skin to my worth as a person.

Now that I’m older, I’m still doing the work to unlearn the beliefs imposed on me. Not just that dark skin is beautiful, (which of course it is) but that true beauty lies within us not just in our appearance. Your worth is not determined on physical features but on the values, knowledge, and love that you share with the world. That’s what matters most. Sinbad said it best and now I truly believe that.

 

Here are some key takeaways on how we can all work together to reduce colourism and its impacts. Remember this:

  • Tell dark skin black girls they are beautiful. Encourage them to love themselves.

  • Tell light skin children that they aren’t better than the next black person simply for being a lighter complexion - their beauty is not solely based on their complexion. Encourage them to acknowledge their privilege due to colourism and be mindful of how they use it.

  • Encourage dark skin boys to love themselves and love women that look like them. Let go of the self-hate. Advocate for dark skin women not because they are your mothers, sisters, or aunties, simply just because they deserve to be loved and respected like anyone else.

  • Call out anyone (and I mean anyone) perpetuating the problematic ideologies of colourism.

  • Emphasize the importance to all children that being beautiful on the inside matters more than what’s seen on the outside.

We have a long way to go but I truly believe by teaching our young ones the impact of colourism, the less likely they are to be victims, bystanders, or perpetrators to it depending on where it will affect them.

This is my personal story on colourism. I hope it inspires you to heal, educate, or check yourself. I know I’m not the only one and I haven’t even experienced colourism in the worst ways. Most of my experience has been submerged so far into my memory I rather not remember. The Black Lives Matter movement has allowed some of it to resurface.

Alexa Play “Brown Skin Girls” by Beyonce.

From your Big Sister,

Tash

Resources to Further Educate Yourself on Experiences of Colourism

Here are some resources to learn more about the negative impacts on colourism:

 
Blog Post, HerStoryTashonta Fairmanherstory, colourism, self-love, darkskin, racism, gender, discrimination, personal storyComment