By Maymunah Ibrahim
I have been wanting to do an article on these topics for a long time. I figured I had a lot of research to do, and I was right, which is why I am just now talking about these issues. I’ve always had a curiosity about how these problems began, how far back did they arise, if they are only common in the Americas. (Yes, Latin America has its own problems regarding self-hatred and skin bleaching, Africa as well, but right now we’re going to focus on the country that has been called out for it most frequently.)
I first want to start off by saying that I understand where the self-hatred comes from. Growing up as a dark-skinned black Muslim girl in an area that was predominantly hispanic and Catholic, it was hard for me make friends and even harder for me to love myself when I didn’t really look like anyone else. Even Spanish boys and girls as dark as me were treated differently, and I just couldn’t comprehend that. It wasn’t so bad until I got to 4th grade. I transferred to a school filled with kids that had grown up in the neighboring ‘hood, while I was raised by an optimistic mother who wore her heart on her sleeve. I wasn’t prepared for anything that my heart would endure for the rest of my school life.
But enough about me, let’s get to the point: colorism is a thing! And anyone who claims otherwise must get their eyes and ears checked. We live in a country run by white men (and recently women) whose ancestors strategically built this country to keep themselves up and others (mostly black Americans) down. People like to claim that the word is “made up”, but the Oxford Dictionary has even accepted it into their family. By definition, “colorism” is the “prejudice of discrimination against individuals with a dark skin tone, typically among people of the same ethnic or racial group.” This deals a lot of damage in the black community, mainly by separating us once again based on skin color. It’s worth noting that examples of workplace discrimination include age, race and other factors that can similarly impact individuals’ opportunities and experiences.
You’ve got to admit, these people who control our country are super smart. The main thing that allowed the American country to be taken from the British was the unity of the colonists under their hatred of the King. If the entire black community stuck together, we could probably achieve complete equality.
Hypothetically speaking, of course.
I haven’t really had any issues with colorism. No one has ever told me I would be prettier if I was lighter, nobody has picked my lighter friend over me because of their skin color. The bodega downstairs from my apartment building likes to serve the Spanish people before me, but that’s another issue entirely. However, I’ve heard instances from other men and women who were dark like me, who were called “African booty scratcher”, “Michael Blackson”, or even referred to as “the bottom of a bed”. These are all such disgusting names to be called, but has anyone ever told you the meaning of the phrase “African booty scratcher”? Through research, I’ve concluded two interpretations: a slave whose task was to scratch their lazy master’s behind, or an African who was lazy. (At one point, this was just used to refer to all Africans, as a way to say they are all lazy, wild, and dirty, and to justify colonialism [Manifest Destiny] ).
While there may have been slaves tasked at scratching their owner’s behinds, the term is mainly used in a disrespectful way to degrade people of dark skin and call them lazy and dumb. The phrase might not be used among the older generation, but growing up as a dark-skinned male, you will hear it once or twice. It’s a strong emotional destroyer, and leaves a permanent mark on a man’s self esteem. Imagine hearing at a young age that the whole world sees you as a dumb and ugly person. It’s hard to build yourself up from that, because after a point, you begin to believe that you’re dumb and ugly, too. When you’ve been told something all your life and begin to believe it yourself, it’s hard to believe others when they disagree with it.
That is how self-hate ties into the black community. Although we have no reason to hate our dark skin, we do because those who aren’t our skin color give us reasons to. They look at us like animals, treat us like pigs and call us disrespectful names, all without provocation. They criticise our hair texture, the way we style it, tell us that it needs to be longer, straighter, then tell us that we have no business wearing wigs and weaves. That’s the part that gets to me the most.
There was a TikTok trend where black women would put up images of white women wearing box braids and twists in their hair, playing these images along with a sound that said “Can I have it back?” They claimed this as cultural appropriation, along with the fact that box braids and twists are protective styles for curly and kinky hair. White women, feeling attacked, used this sound while displaying images of balck women wearing weaves and wigs, claiming that if the black community wanted their protective hairstyles back, white women wanted their straight hair back. The fact that white individuals believe that straight hair belongs only to them is baffling. Curly hair doesn’t only belong to the black community, many Spanish men and women have curly hair, as well as individuals in the Middle East. Asian women and men have straight hair also, so the gene for straight hair does not belong only to white people.
Lastly, the beauty standard was created by white society. Black women used to cover their hair with scarves because they were embarrassed by their hair texture. Then, once the hot comb was created, they began straightening their hair to look “more presentable” and to be more accepted in a society run by white individuals. Wigs and weaves that are straight are the offspring of this notion. Therefore, the people that you should be upset about for introducing straight hair wigs and weaves to the black community are your ancestors.
Black men and women are very disliked in society to this day. However, a lot of the characteristics of the black community are being used by non-blacks, something that Is criticized as cultural appropriation, or “the adoption of an element or elements of one culture by members of another culture.” Examples of this are Nicki Minaj’s costume she wore in her music video for “Chun-Li” and Megan Thee Stallion’s chola appropriation costume that she displayed on her instagram. While Nicki didn’t receive much backlash, an instagram model by the name indigodess blasted Megan on her story, claiming that “black females are the first to scream cultural appropriation when a Latina tries to lay her baby hairs or braid her hair” and saying that “[she will not] tolerate chola cultural appropriation.” While the tone of her words was extremely harsh, (name dropping black women was a low blow that was most likely said out of anger, but still very uncalled for) I understand how upset she is. Chola culture is rarely touched upon in school, in fact I had to do a substantial amount of research to know its origins and the clothing associated with it.
Back on the main topic. Cultural appropriation is a syndrome with many sub-topics, one being “blackfishing.” Blackfishing, known by many as black-face, can be described as “when a person, usually social media influencers or personalities, passes as Black by altering their appearance – often their hair and skin tone.” Many instagram models have been called out for their spontaneous skin darkening—one model named Emma Hallberg being at the center of the backlash with video evidence of her using foundation that was a couple shades too dark. Since Hallberg and many others were exposed in late 2018, blackfish instances have been brought to light, one being Danielle Bregoli and her make-up mishap. Danielle got exposed through various social media sites when she got her make-up done in a shade that appeared to be too dark for her natural complexion. She was questioned about it for weeks before she got on her instagram live, and believed the best way to address the allegations was to ask “Who wants to be black? I just can’t comprehend that.” Best believe that little comment did not go well for her, in fact she received even more backlash for outright shaming everyone who is black simply for being black. Like most things, however, the heat she was facing died down once the attention people placed on her moved to other things. She got to keep her fame, and barely gave an apology for her wrongdoings.
Cultural appropriation in all forms is very wrong, however blackfishing seems to hurt in a different way than a white boy saying the n word. While other cultures have always taken a bit from the black community, copying our image is the worst in terms of our skin color. Not long ago would we have been in chains for our dark skin, but all of a sudden it is a trend to have brown skin and curly hair. It’s a slap in the face to our ancestors who were deemed ugly for their dark skin, who were refused service for the color of their skin, denied the right to education because of their African descent. For you to mimic it when our dark skin is still considered a weapon is the ultimate form of disrespect.
Ahmad Arbury was gunned down just months ago for jogging in a neighborhood that was previously robbed by a man who “fit his description”, or at least that’s what we’re being told. I mean, they can’t just flat out say that they gunned down a black man for being black. They would receive so much backlash for that. But those of us who can see right through their lies know the truth, and it is that Ahmad Arbury wasn’t gunned down because he looked suspicious. It was because he was black. And unlike these beauty gurus who paint their skin, Ahmad couldn’t take his dark skin off to avid getting shot. That’s why we’re upset. We’re mad because we can’t hang up our back skin when we’ve decided we’ve had enough oppression for the day. But these white skinned instagram influencers can. They can decide one day to not be a woman of color. But I can’t. I will always be a woman of color, no matter who’s looking at me. To white people, I’m black. To Asians, I’m black. To Hispanics, I’m black. To black women, I’m black. I will always be black and that’s not something I can stop.
I can’t help that one day my boyfriend might be assumed to be a drug dealer, and police just might rush into my house while we are sleeping and gun me down in my bed. I can’t help that maybe men might be arguing in my home and when police ask me to step out, I might be shot twice for complying. I can’t help that some day, I might be accused of stealing and while I’m being pushed into a car, an officer shoots me twice in my neck. Will today be the day that I get shot because I was learning to drive at 16? Or maybe tomorrow when a group of friends and I are just standing on the sidewalk? In a week when I’m just taking a nap on my couch? There was no justification for the shooting of many of the women who went through the same scenarios I listed above other than the fact that they all “appeared suspicious.”
I cannot escape the fear that these killings cause me. I will never be able to escape it. But Danielle can. And so can Emma. So, let me ask you, do you now understand the magnitude? The self-hatred, the anger, the sadness, the hopelessness that runs deep in the veins of many individuals in the black community? We’re scared, we’re angry, we’re tired.
And we want it to stop.