Colorism In America.

The topic of colorism came up in tonight's class and, as a light-skinned black woman living in America, it definitely hit close to home with me. One of the perks of being a freelance journalist is being able to pick and choose the topics that I write about. When the news came out about Rachel Dolezal pretending to be a black woman when she was actually white came out, I wrote this post for Cosmopolitan.com about how I am often mistaken for other races. 

I have literally grown up my entire life being questioned about my race. My father is dark skinned and my mother is brown - but both are black. I was born with a light complexion thanks to my grandmother (i.e. my father's mother) and red hair that later turned sandy brown by the time I was five. (I've been dying my hair blonde since my early 20's, so I have no clue as to what my natural hair color is now.) There's also the fact that I have three brothers and a stepdad - all of which have a brown to dark skin tone. Growing up, the color of people's skin never mattered to me and I never questioned why other people's family members looked the way they did. It wasn't until about second grade that I first began getting teased about my light skin by some of the other black girls in my class followed by questions about whether or not I was adopted after they saw me with my oldest brother after school. I tried to ignore the teasing and taunting, but it still hurt my feelings and I became very aware of my skin color. 

My brothers and mom (in the middle). 

As I got older, I began to realize that the questions about what race I was (by now requesting to know if my biological father is white) were never going to end. I also began to notice how my light skin tone and straight blonde hair gave me a "pass" when it came to how my darker skinned relatives and friends were treated. I was often chosen at work to represent the company at events as the "token black girl," I've had guys tell me they only wanted to date me because of my "light skin" and categorized as having "good hair" because it curls up and I'm able to straight it back out without going to the salon. 

This type of thinking dates back to the early days of slavery. Those with lighter skin were often given preferential treatment than those with darker skin. The light skin slaves worked mostly in the house while the dark skinned slaves were relegated to work in the fields. Slave masters often took on black, light-skinned women as their mistresses. Eventually, the paper bag rule - which states that you must be the same color as or lighter than a paper bag - in order to receive special privileges. I've never been one to use my skin color as a means to get better treatment nor have I ever denied my blackness simply because of the color of my skin. I'm also pretty sure that this type of thinking exists on certain levels within all cultures. It's something that - along with racism - I wish would go away.