I went to breakfast with a girlfriend of mine recently and we got on the subject of childhood. We thought of lessons learned and friendships formed and somehow got around to discussing the cruelty of children.
In her case, children put gum in her hair because they were jealous of how long it was when she wore it straight. To this day, she wears her hair curled, afraid people will not like her if they saw how long her hair actually is.
In my case, I was told I was too dark to wear certain colors. At the local mall with a neighbor, we passed a display of orange sweaters. She was lighter than me with “good hair” and “light eyes.” I scrunched up my nose at the sweaters due to my dislike of the color. Her response, “This color would clash on you anyway.”
I will never forget that day and what it did to my psyche. I grew up thinking my skin was too dark and I felt ugly compared to lighter people. I remember telling people that I hated “happy” colors like pinks, oranges and yellows. It took me almost 10 years to realize that my dislike of those colors stemmed from that one incident.
Children can be so cruel but they are not the only ones who cause us damage. I’m sure if we all thought about it, we can remember things our parents told us that altered our way of thinking. For instance, my grandmother told my mother not to wear brown clothing because she would look washed out. A friend of my mother’s was warned not to play in the sun by her mother for fear she would get even darker.
Back in my parents’ day they had what was called the “paper bag” test. Though I didn’t grow up in that era, I face the effects of those tests that are a constant reminder of the division that exists amongst Black people.
This division didn’t really occur to me until I saw “School Daze.” We, as Black people, have so many issues amongst ourselves and most of them stem from our childhood.
I am not one of those people that blame everything on slavery, but in this case the practices of our ancestors have been passed down to us.
Darker slaves were kept in the fields where they suffered from heat exhaustion and blisters. Their bodies, and hearts, became hardened as they considered themselves to be the bottom of the barrel in the eyes of their masters.
Lighter slaves, who closely resembled their masters, were kept in the house where they served food, took care of the master’s children and ironed clothing. Their biggest advantage, at least to me, was the opportunity to escape the heat and first access to happenings at the plantation.
Because of these roles, established before any of us were born, have shaped our views on Black people. Many darker men and women I know are under the impression that lighter skinned Black people are conceited. Their privilege of staying in the house gave them a superiority complex.
Many darker women I know feel intimidated when they are in the presence of lighter women. In their mind, they now have to be twice as smart, look twice as good and be twice as successful in order to compete with their lighter counterparts.
While some light skinned men and women do think highly of themselves, others are faced with the task of proving their Blackness. Though they are born into this race, they feel obligated to constantly prove their right to be labeled Black.
What we all fail to remember and accept is that despite the different living conditions of the lighter and darker skinned Black people back then, they were all property and were all raped and mistreated by the hand that fed them.
It is very likely that a lot of the issues we are dealing with today stems from something someone said or did to us when we were younger. We have a hard time letting go and it does us no good to harbor these kinds of feelings.
Speaking from experience, that one remark from my neighbor has caused more damage to me than it will ever do to her. It’s time to let go.