Colorism: Living within the Color Divide

As a child growing up, I cannot say that the hue of my skin mattered as much as it played a part in my teen years and on. Coming from a Caribbean family, I was always surrounded by different shades of brown. My relatives ranged from the darkest shades of ebony to the lightest shades of tapioca, the difference in shade didn’t signify hierarchy but rather showed that we were truly a melting pot. Whenever we had family gatherings, talks of the good old days back in Haiti were brought up, there were discussions of how Miami’s sun had darkened my grandmother’s skin, who for a large part of her life worked as a migrant farm worker. Or when they described my mother’s complexion. As a family we never discussed the context that having lighter skin would give you privileges over those who were darker than you. My relationship or realization of colorism began when I was in middle school.

Being one of the few Haitian families in a predominately African American school, the thing that separated me the most was my culture not my skin. But something changed during that transition period from elementary to middle school. It was as if the blinders were taken off and another determining factor of your beauty was added. I remember having conversations on why boys would like certain girls and I cannot tell you the amount of times that I’ve heard “because she’s red” as a valid answer. It was during this period that I began to notice that those lighter in complexion whether male or female got certain privileges or praise within their friend groups. The most popular person was usually an athlete, a cheerleader or was simply lighter skinned. This was definitely a trend that did not end. I would notice far later in life that many men in the African American community did have a preference for lighter skinned women, singing and rapping their praises in some of today’s most popular songs. Even though it seemed as though the growing popularity in choosing women of lighter complexions was more accepted, I hadn’t felt as though I was getting better treatment or that I was found more attractive because I was considered lighter. I hadn’t experienced any situations where I received special treatment because of someone else’s preference for my skin color until my late twenties.

Comments made about my complexion almost always came from men who would try to talk to me or from friends and family members who would ask me if I was bleaching my skin. The skin bleaching comments became more frequent after I moved away and incorporated sunscreen to my daily beauty regimen. Every time I would come back to Miami and run into someone who I hadn’t seen in a while I was sure to hear them ask what I have been doing because I’ve “gotten much lighter”. I’ve heard the word “Red (red-bone” thrown in with catcalls as a way to get my attention, catcalls that I would often ignore because I did not consider myself Red. I didn’t consider myself having a lighter hue or being “red”or even “high yellow” simply because I am not. I would joke and say that I am pecan tan as to almost force others to see that I don’t consider myself any lighter than what I am. If you were to ask me to describe myself, I would say that I am Black. If you were to ask me where my family was from, I would say that I am of Haitian descent. If you were to ask where I fall on the color spectrum, I would say I fall on the darker end of the spectrum simply because I see myself as being darker than what everyone else decides to categorize me as, I am Blackity, Black, Black, Black.

I find that I struggle with existing in spaces where the opinions of others about your complexion will signify your worth and value. It’s even more shocking when some of those opinions come from people who look exactly like you. In this day and age where we are more supportive of black businesses and uplifting black people as a whole it’s still shocking that such a negative system is still in play, a system which further separates us instead of joining us. As I navigate when to engage with or inform someone who makes a colorist remark on how their comment is offensive; I have often chosen the high road which has ultimately brought me peace. I’ve learned that these prejudices are deep rooted and may not be changed even if I get into a heated debate about it. Instead, I choose to see the beauty in all complexions and not in a way such as “oh you’re pretty for a dark-skinned girl”, but in a way that each and every complexion tells us more about our history and our journey. My advice on how to challenge the color divide is to give more compliments that aren’t based on a complexion or a certain feature but compliment the person’s beauty as a whole. If their hair is nice simply compliment the style, if a certain lip color or blouse color looks nice compliment the color, because at the end of the day that compliment could be a blessing and help someone have a great day.

- Raven