COLORISM:
The Ugly Secret in the Black Community (that isn't so secret)
African
Americans from all sides of this issue speak out.
“Red-bone.” “High-yellow.” Whatever you
call it, our culture has for generations - and continues to perpetuate
the notion that the lighter the skin complexion, the better, smarter,
or more attractive the person. As a result, many darker African
Americans have felt underestimated, overlooked and outright shunned.
Unfortunately,
this sad display of ‘intra-racism’ is not new. There
is well-documented history of division between house slaves -
who were often fathered by white slave masters, and darker field
slaves - and the ‘priveleges’ afforded the former.
Years after the emancipation, affluent Blacks formed “blue
vein clubs.” These were social clubs that were known only
to admit a person if their skin was light enough that their veins
were visible through their wrists. If the blue veins weren’t
visible, you were denied entry. Today, skin tone is still fodder
for heated discussion that accounts for sometimes bitter hostility
among Blacks in the United States. Onyx readers from all over
share their experiences and thoughts on the subject.
 |
“I
spent years as the only Black student in a white school. My being
light-skinned made no difference there. They didn’t want
me there and made it clear to me at every turn. Even the adults
were racist and unsympathetic. It was an enormously hurtful and
very lonely time. But the abuse and hatred I endured there was
a cakewalk compared to the cruelty I endure at the hands of my
own people.”
- Ft. Lauderdale
“Many
people think Black women are combative. I’m a dark woman,
and if I’m combative, it’s because it’s like
no matter how talented I am, or how hard I work, as soon as some
cute light-skinned heffa with pretty hair walks in the room, I
suddenly become invisible and no longer exist.”
- Melbourne
“The
whole issue of bi-racial children having a hard time fitting in
among Blacks is garbage. Both my parents are Black, but because
I’m light-skinned, I catch just as much grief. Sometimes
we’re just not nice to each other as a people. We still
have a self-hate that runs so deep, it is systematically crippling
and stifling us.”
- Jacksonville
“I
dated a young lady once who had dark skin. She was an FBI agent,
very beautiful, and had it all together, but she was incredibly
insecure about her skin shade. Whenever any light skinned woman
would be near or walk by, she would give me nasty looks and say,
“That’s what you like, isn’t it? That’s
what you want, right?” - Atlanta, GA
“I
remember once when we were young kids - maybe aged seven or eight,
my cousin Tammy (who is very dark-skinned) was taking her nightly
bath, and her mother went in to the bathroom to check on her.
Tammy was vigorously washing herself, and her mom told her she
was doing a good job. Tammy told her she was trying to scrub the
Black off. The constant negativity she endured from family and
friends about her skin tone, coupled with the fact that she looks
just like her dad - who isn’t the handsomest of men, made
her the person she is today. She is incredibly bitter and angry,
and has done a lot of destructive, spiteful, mean-spirited things
to hurt people.”
- Daytona Beach
“My mother had six children, and not all of us had the same
father. My father happened to be Latino, and I was my mother’s
only bi-racial child. I was dogged so badly by my siblings, that
I want nothing to do with any man that wasn’t dark - and
for a long time, I allowed them to make ME hate my own skin color
and hair.”
- Miami
“I
was told point-blank by my father that I better not bring home
a dark -skinned woman.”
- Orlando
“Diversity?
We don’t even like each other most of the time! Our society
and our culture has taught us not to accept or appreciate differences.
My grandmother wouldn’t even hold me when I was a newborn
because I was “too black.” And she told my mother
to “get this little black thing away from here.” People
in my family still love to recant this story! Throughout my life,
family and friends looked past me and ignored me because of my
skin tone, while my sister got all the affection and attention
because she was high-yellow and fair haired. She was the “pretty
one,” and I was the “other one.” That hurts,
and it’s been a sore spot as long as I can remember.”
- Jacksonville
I
am a proud Black woman who grew up in a Black community. My entire
life, I was quiet, and stayed to myself. But I was ridiculed and
beat up by my fellow African American students because I was smart
in school. My sister and I were bullied and tortured because we
got good grades. My class projects were stolen and destroyed by
my Black classmates because they wanted to see me fail. I was
told repeatedly by my peers that I “thought I was white.”
(Were they inferring that ignorance and being Black goes hand-in-hand?)
It didn’t stop there. We were labeled ‘the high-and-mighty
ones’ in the family because my sister and I stayed on the
honor roll. We became the object of the family’s disdain...something
to be avoided, because “we thought we were better.”
Hadn’t they heard? Didn’t they know? We didn’t
think we were better than anyone else! Our parents would kill
us if we didn’t get good grades. They wanted us to be smart
and get a decent education so we could be something. And we didn’t
want to be ‘killed’. So there it was. Nevertheless,
we were looked down upon. I can recall very few times that other
Blacks in our environment supported or encouraged our success
- and meant it.
High school was no better. I was lucky enough to have had my English
Literature teacher, who saw that I had gifts and talents, and
did what he could to nurture that talent. Otherwise, though, there
was always conflict, and someone who always enjoyed starting conflicts
and creating trouble. And if you spoke out or participated in
class, you paid for it later - that is, if they didn’t trash
you or publicly humiliate you right then for having the presence
of mind to have an individual thought.
They trip you, then ridicule and criticize you for falling. This
is what I have known my “Black culture” to be. We
don’t uplift each other enough, and we are severely lacking
as it relates to unity. The ‘Crab-in-the-Barrel’ mentality
and jealousy are still too prevalent in the African American community.
How can we lift our hands and holler “Black Pride”
when we know we treat each other this way?
I opted to attend a college with students of all races and cultures.
I was surprised to see how free I was to be an individual without
being ridiculed. It blew my mind the first time I had a healthy
exchage of thoughts and ideas with others that possessed a similar
diversity of thought. In discussions, my points brought about
their counterpoints - not “shut your wanna-be white butt
up.” Whether we liked each other or not, each person’s
differing opinions were accepted. There always remained a fundamental
mutual respect.
Today, I volunteer regularly in our Black community, so that I
can bring a little of what I’ve learned to young Black students
deemed ‘underpriveleged.’ The goals are simple. I
encourage each of them to venture beyond that which they can immediately
see and touch to discover how much is out there for them. Further,
I encourage parents to nurture their children’s gifts and
creativity by involving them in a diverse range of extracirricular
activities that feed their minds and their spirits. -
Tallahassee
The
fact that we have contributed to perpetuating the "lighter
is better" myth is disheartening. So, when does it stop and
who puts a stop to it? We do. We know how it feels, we know the
damage it does to one's self esteem, and we know the effect it
has on young children. So, why do we continue to keep it alive?
We have to work very hard to dispel the myth that lighter skinned
people are smarter and can do more. It becomes especially difficult
when white people perpetuate it (through ignorance and prejudice).
They feed the myth by their treatment of and attitude toward light
and dark skinned people. We can't control what white people think,
but we can control what we think.
If we can't change our own attitudes, how do we expect others
to see us any differently than the stereotypical description that
was burned into the fabric of this country so long ago when our
brave slave ancestors we brought here. - Orlando
Have
you experienced ‘colorism’? Has it affected your family
life or career?
Click here to send your
comments to the Editor.
Once submitted, your entry will become the property of Onyx Magazine.
Your comments may appear on the World Wide Web or in print.
