My Light-Skinned-ness

I have always wanted to fit in as a Black girl and now that I am a woman the pressure to “fit in” is even greater. Usually I tend to describe myself in writing as a light-skinned Black woman; this is mostly because that is how I am portrayed in others opinions.

What does being a Black woman mean, let alone look like?

The beauty of being a Black woman is that there is no one way one we are supposed to look. We all come in different shapes, sizes, heights, and weights and we all have different features and hair types.

Why then is my Blackness always questioned, or in my opinion “downgraded” to being “light-skinned”? Why can’t I simply be a Black woman?

On several occasions I have been reminded of my light-skinned-ness; one recent incident was a bit of a wake-up call that just got me to thinking. While prepping makeup for a show I was with a colleague who commented on the red lipstick I was wearing. Being the “light-skinned” woman that I am, I didn’t really think too much about skin color when I purchased the lipstick, just that I thought it was a pretty matte red that could work for me. When the two of us started talking about lipstick, my dark-skinned friend said it was a pretty red but Black women like her couldn’t wear it. I immediately took offense to her comment. In retrospect, I realize she was trying to explain how certain shades are for certain skin tones but initially I was stopped in my tracks.

The words that have always been in my head found their way out of my mouth: “what do you mean; I’m a Black woman too”. In an effort to explain what she meant her voice fell upon deaf ears as I was ready to defend my Blackness yet again. Before commenting and letting my frustrations out I thought and decided it was a battle that, no matter how much I fought I wouldn’t be able to have a victory. I simply said “when I look at you and then at myself, I feel like we are the same color”.

Maybe that is ignorant of me.

My mother is a Black woman; therefore I thought I was a Black woman too.

A similar situation involving a male coworker justified yet again the fact that I have to defend my Blackness. My mother came to my job one day and one of my coworkers did not believe she was my mother. After introducing them, he told me he didn’t picture her being a “real” Black woman. He described her as a “strong Black Panther type woman” and mentioned that he loved her locks, but was expecting to see someone that looked more like Paula Patton.

Speechless.

These are but a few experiences, there are plenty more. No I am not a dark-skinned woman but how does that discredit me from being a Black woman at all?

The identity struggles I have within myself are enough to keep me occupied but as a whole, we as Black people tend to also disregard our own. The same persecution we receive from others for being Black, we are passing on to others for not being “Black enough”.

What Are You?

The other day I was coming home from an amazing shoot for the Movement and I went to my mom’s house to pick up my oldest son. I get there and my son is in tears while my mom’s level of anger is through the roof.

Apparently race came up in the house and when she told my 7 year old he was Black, he told her he didn't want to be Black. Now outside of the Movement, Civil Rights activism runs extremely deep within my family as my Great Grandfather (in addition to many other things) was an attendee to the famous MLK march on Washington.

So to mediate the situation I take my boy to the side and I asked him “what are you?” He replies “I am Brown skin”, and it dawned on me that children are as pure as they are literal. My son was bothered to be called a color that for him doesn't exist within the human species.

In my home I do not teach color in that sense and my mother wasn't aware of that. Coincidently my mother is married to what we would call a White man. When he entered I asked my son what was he and he gave the classic Indigenous people name; he said pale/pink.