How many times have you heard this phrase?
"Yeah, Yeah," I reply. "Yes, I know. Black is beautiful." I nonchalantly respond not because I disagree or find no truth in such a statement, but rather just the opposite. It is a truth or value that I hold, but until today, until my time in India, I was reminded how much I took it for granted. Thankfully, I grew up with a mother who in addition to affirming the beauty of her brown-skinned black children, more importantly, always affirmed that beauty is more than skin deep. My mother, a woman on the lighter side of the brown spectrum found amongst the African-American population, a woman classified as a "red-bone" to some, never fell victim to burdening her children with any false idea or value of beauty being found in the lighter-skinned woman, a plague that over the years I have come to learn as being not just a sickness found in the U.S., but in countries all over the world. I did not grow up with any notion that lighter (or darker for that matter) was better. It was the heart which mattered. However, by living in a country where the color black is often times associated with nothing remotely close to what its society has been socialized to define beauty as, in recognizing this fault, my mother made sure to enforce the beauty found in the brown skin of her children. And while my mother did not march around militantly chanting "BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL," "BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL," she nonetheless instilled the value found beneath such a phrase through every word and action she exemplified. And today, I was reminded why such a phrase, such a recognition of beauty, is not only important, but very necessary.
Today, while engaging in my morning duties with the athletics group, I greeted Prenita with my morning hello as usual. Prenita is a pretty little eight-year old Indian girl with a little bit of sass. With beautiful silky black hair and smooth dark-brown skin, this doll-baby faced little girl caught my attention from the first day I arrived. Rolling the sound of my 'r', I announce, "Prrrretty Prrrrenita." With all of the surrounding children giggling, Prenita bashfully moves her eyes away from me, but I repeat it again, "Prrrretty Prrrrenita." Maybe it has something to do with the notion that she kind of reminds me of Aryianna in that she is witty and can sometimes put off a bit of an attitude in the choice of words she uses, but when her bite is returned, the sass-induced tough girl illusion quickly disassembles and her feelings are easily hurt--"sugar and spice", sensitivity and sassiness, is what is wrapped up with everything nice in this little girl. So for the past eights weeks, I have enjoyed getting to know, running around on the track, and resolving little eight-year old girl disputes involving little Miss Prenita. However, today, was different. Today, Prenita reminded me of an important value.
I had noticed that Prenita would come to practice in the morning with a light whitish coat of lotion or cream on her face. I went back and forth between the idea that it was sunscreen lotion that had not been fully rubbed in and some sort of religious ritual as she is Hindu and many Hindus in India have what looks like three painted vertically parallel white lines across the forehead. However, what puzzled me was that the white residue found on Prenita's face was all over her face rather than in any specific design or order. So out of curiosity I asked her what the white residue meant. Expecting some sort of religiously-inspired historical answer, I was caught by surprise by her response.
"Prenita, you are Hindu, correct?"
"Yes," she confirms.
"What does the white residue on your face represent?" Noticing the lowering of Prenita's head and the tightening of her lips, I move on to rephrase my question thinking that maybe I did not communicate my curiosity very well. "I mean, is it related to your Hindu beliefs?"
Prenita's head again is lowered and she replies in almost a whisper, "it's a cream." And immediately following this response, all of the pieces--past events and comments, and the present uncomfortable body language--came together. After her response I immediately knew what the word "cream" really meant, what it really represented. My "Prrrretty Prrrrenita" was using a skin-lightening cream on her face. Whether due to influence from Indian society, her family, friends, etc., I am not sure, but here was an eight-year old little girl worrying about the darkness of her skin.
"Why are you using that?" I jestingly ask. "You know that you are beautiful, right? Do you tell yourself in the mirror each day that you are beautiful? In the U.S., black is often said to not be beautiful as well, but that is a lie. Look, I am black." Trying to lighten up the mood and invoke a smile, I ask, "are you trying to say that I am not beautiful?" Prenita smiles and chuckles at my question and we continue to talk for a few moments more. I continue to affirm her beautiful dark brown skin a few moments more, but it was during these same moments that I was reminded how deep our societal values run in our communities and how deeply they affect even our children.
Prenita's nickname was given out of genuine affection, never realizing the possible effect that even such a simple nickname as this could actually have on this little girl. The question, "do you really think Prenita is pretty," by one of the other eight-year old girls after hearing me shout "Prrrretty Prrrrenita" was more than just a question to further tease Prenita. This question held roots in a deeply embedded societal value of beauty, a value which was disturbing the self-confidence of women as young as eight years old. When an eight-year old child is using a skin-lightening cream on her face daily, WE have a problem. WE, meaning you and me. WE, meaning human beings. I am so glad that when God made man and woman, he saw that it was good. Not a light-skinned man and woman, not a white-skinned man and woman, just a man and woman. U.S., India, Argentina, Philippines, Brazil, this issue of lighter is better is something that plagues people all over the world. When will it stop? When will we stand and question such a devaluing belief? Black is beautiful, as much as is brown, white, yellow, orange and every other color, and I stand today reminded that this phrase or cliché, if you wish, is so much more than just a group of words, so much more deserving of a response greater than the nonchalant "I know" because the recognition of the truth of its words is needed in countries, needed by men and women, needed by little girls and boys all over the world. Today, I stand reminded that "BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL!!!".
"Yeah, Yeah," I reply. "Yes, I know. Black is beautiful." I nonchalantly respond not because I disagree or find no truth in such a statement, but rather just the opposite. It is a truth or value that I hold, but until today, until my time in India, I was reminded how much I took it for granted. Thankfully, I grew up with a mother who in addition to affirming the beauty of her brown-skinned black children, more importantly, always affirmed that beauty is more than skin deep. My mother, a woman on the lighter side of the brown spectrum found amongst the African-American population, a woman classified as a "red-bone" to some, never fell victim to burdening her children with any false idea or value of beauty being found in the lighter-skinned woman, a plague that over the years I have come to learn as being not just a sickness found in the U.S., but in countries all over the world. I did not grow up with any notion that lighter (or darker for that matter) was better. It was the heart which mattered. However, by living in a country where the color black is often times associated with nothing remotely close to what its society has been socialized to define beauty as, in recognizing this fault, my mother made sure to enforce the beauty found in the brown skin of her children. And while my mother did not march around militantly chanting "BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL," "BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL," she nonetheless instilled the value found beneath such a phrase through every word and action she exemplified. And today, I was reminded why such a phrase, such a recognition of beauty, is not only important, but very necessary.
Today, while engaging in my morning duties with the athletics group, I greeted Prenita with my morning hello as usual. Prenita is a pretty little eight-year old Indian girl with a little bit of sass. With beautiful silky black hair and smooth dark-brown skin, this doll-baby faced little girl caught my attention from the first day I arrived. Rolling the sound of my 'r', I announce, "Prrrretty Prrrrenita." With all of the surrounding children giggling, Prenita bashfully moves her eyes away from me, but I repeat it again, "Prrrretty Prrrrenita." Maybe it has something to do with the notion that she kind of reminds me of Aryianna in that she is witty and can sometimes put off a bit of an attitude in the choice of words she uses, but when her bite is returned, the sass-induced tough girl illusion quickly disassembles and her feelings are easily hurt--"sugar and spice", sensitivity and sassiness, is what is wrapped up with everything nice in this little girl. So for the past eights weeks, I have enjoyed getting to know, running around on the track, and resolving little eight-year old girl disputes involving little Miss Prenita. However, today, was different. Today, Prenita reminded me of an important value.
I had noticed that Prenita would come to practice in the morning with a light whitish coat of lotion or cream on her face. I went back and forth between the idea that it was sunscreen lotion that had not been fully rubbed in and some sort of religious ritual as she is Hindu and many Hindus in India have what looks like three painted vertically parallel white lines across the forehead. However, what puzzled me was that the white residue found on Prenita's face was all over her face rather than in any specific design or order. So out of curiosity I asked her what the white residue meant. Expecting some sort of religiously-inspired historical answer, I was caught by surprise by her response.
"Prenita, you are Hindu, correct?"
"Yes," she confirms.
"What does the white residue on your face represent?" Noticing the lowering of Prenita's head and the tightening of her lips, I move on to rephrase my question thinking that maybe I did not communicate my curiosity very well. "I mean, is it related to your Hindu beliefs?"
Prenita's head again is lowered and she replies in almost a whisper, "it's a cream." And immediately following this response, all of the pieces--past events and comments, and the present uncomfortable body language--came together. After her response I immediately knew what the word "cream" really meant, what it really represented. My "Prrrretty Prrrrenita" was using a skin-lightening cream on her face. Whether due to influence from Indian society, her family, friends, etc., I am not sure, but here was an eight-year old little girl worrying about the darkness of her skin.
"Why are you using that?" I jestingly ask. "You know that you are beautiful, right? Do you tell yourself in the mirror each day that you are beautiful? In the U.S., black is often said to not be beautiful as well, but that is a lie. Look, I am black." Trying to lighten up the mood and invoke a smile, I ask, "are you trying to say that I am not beautiful?" Prenita smiles and chuckles at my question and we continue to talk for a few moments more. I continue to affirm her beautiful dark brown skin a few moments more, but it was during these same moments that I was reminded how deep our societal values run in our communities and how deeply they affect even our children.
Prenita's nickname was given out of genuine affection, never realizing the possible effect that even such a simple nickname as this could actually have on this little girl. The question, "do you really think Prenita is pretty," by one of the other eight-year old girls after hearing me shout "Prrrretty Prrrrenita" was more than just a question to further tease Prenita. This question held roots in a deeply embedded societal value of beauty, a value which was disturbing the self-confidence of women as young as eight years old. When an eight-year old child is using a skin-lightening cream on her face daily, WE have a problem. WE, meaning you and me. WE, meaning human beings. I am so glad that when God made man and woman, he saw that it was good. Not a light-skinned man and woman, not a white-skinned man and woman, just a man and woman. U.S., India, Argentina, Philippines, Brazil, this issue of lighter is better is something that plagues people all over the world. When will it stop? When will we stand and question such a devaluing belief? Black is beautiful, as much as is brown, white, yellow, orange and every other color, and I stand today reminded that this phrase or cliché, if you wish, is so much more than just a group of words, so much more deserving of a response greater than the nonchalant "I know" because the recognition of the truth of its words is needed in countries, needed by men and women, needed by little girls and boys all over the world. Today, I stand reminded that "BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL!!!".
I agree! And yes she is beautiful, she looks kinda shy :)
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