9.29.2004
The Color Complex
I have a dream my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. ~ Martin Luther King, I Have A Dream
Last night I recieved an e-mail from a gentleman who had just recently completed my novel I'm On My Way. In the e-mail he stated:
"...Your writing style reminded me of E. Lynn Harris. He too wrote about light skinned characters with light eyes. He made the reader feel as though light-skinned people were prettier and more successful than his darker brothers. Dio happened to be the character that had his own successful business, he also had a man that happened to be a model. None of his darker brothers had it better than him."
Immediately after reading this I grew frustrated; not entirely by what was said, but by yet another issue my people will never, ever overcome: the all too important issue of color. I wondered if he (the reader) noticed how much praise I showered on Michael and his chocolate brown skin. I wondered if he noticed how I purposely tried to avoid the stereotypes typically afforded the light versus the dark? Yes Di'ogenes had a much more successful career than anyone else but this was not predicated on his skin color, but rather the choices he made in his life. His decision to place his job above all else almost pre-determined his success. The same could be said about Sean [who, for the record, I did not mention color], ended up being a very successful V.P. at H.A.N. Records. The more I thought about the readers comment, the more I realized his comments had to be based heavily on some injustice that had been done to him. Maybe, I reasoned, this young man has been the victim of black on black racism, a crime rarely talked about in our community...but one we've all fallen victim to.
A few years back while walking the streets of Manhattan I happened upon a street vendor selling books. Always one to stop and browse I soon noticed a book titled, The Color Complex: The politics of Skin Color Among African Americans. The title caught my attention, but it was its promise to unveil the hidden prejudices among black people that sealed the deal. All my life I had been a victim of black on black racism: I was (and still am) dark skinned with full lips and, if I allowed my hair to grow in full you would most definitely notice my "not-so-good" crop of wool. I am after all a black man with black features, both a gift and a curse.
I would be a liar if I said I have not found myself staring in the mirror wishing my skin were lighter, my hair better, and my looks more you know, light-skinish. I have fallen victim to wanting to be other than I am. And each time I find myself there I wonder why? Why isn't being me good enough? Why isn't my brown skin and full lips good enough? Why am I not revered when I walk in a room like my light-skinned counter part? Why am I cute, and he phyne? Why am I looked over, and he looked for? Black is beautiful, so they say. Yet I find it extremely difficult to find that beauty that has not been tainted by the more popular belief: white is the fairest of them all.
In a society where we have been discounted by the mainstream through blackface, Jim Crow and the United States Constitution is there no wonder why features that appear somewhat [used on purpose] normal and/or acceptable around blacks suddenly becomes mortifying around whites? Is it true then that once we realize our beauty is not like theirs ours almost always dissipates? It is terribly sad, but true: so many of us apologize for our looks, and long for ways to hide what we feel others will not approve.
Until the 1960s most Black women, and some Black men, regularly straightened their hair. It was rare for a Black woman to be seen in public with unprocessed hair, and those who dared risked the ridicule and even chastisement of close friends and family members. When the Afro became fashionable during the sixties, it was radical in more ways than one. It not only associated the wearer with the politics of the Black Power movement, but, for women, it also signaled the abandonment of the hair-straightening products they had been conditioned to use since childhood. The Afro eventually went the way of all trendy hairstyles, and by the mid-seventies most Blacks (although not as many as before) had returned to processing their hair. ~Excerpt from The Color Complex
The issue of color in our community is a deep rooted one, one that cannot be remedied overnight, or fully thought out in one post. But it is one that should be brought out of the closet and discussed at length. If for no other reason than to realize much of what we know and feel about color is not our fault. It is the result of years and years of conditioning that unfortunately has affected our most intimate of thoughts.
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Last night I recieved an e-mail from a gentleman who had just recently completed my novel I'm On My Way. In the e-mail he stated: "...Your writing style reminded me of E. Lynn Harris. He too wrote about light skinned characters with light eyes. He made the reader feel as though light-skinned people were prettier and more successful than his darker brothers. Dio happened to be the character that had his own successful business, he also had a man that happened to be a model. None of his darker brothers had it better than him."
Immediately after reading this I grew frustrated; not entirely by what was said, but by yet another issue my people will never, ever overcome: the all too important issue of color. I wondered if he (the reader) noticed how much praise I showered on Michael and his chocolate brown skin. I wondered if he noticed how I purposely tried to avoid the stereotypes typically afforded the light versus the dark? Yes Di'ogenes had a much more successful career than anyone else but this was not predicated on his skin color, but rather the choices he made in his life. His decision to place his job above all else almost pre-determined his success. The same could be said about Sean [who, for the record, I did not mention color], ended up being a very successful V.P. at H.A.N. Records. The more I thought about the readers comment, the more I realized his comments had to be based heavily on some injustice that had been done to him. Maybe, I reasoned, this young man has been the victim of black on black racism, a crime rarely talked about in our community...but one we've all fallen victim to.
A few years back while walking the streets of Manhattan I happened upon a street vendor selling books. Always one to stop and browse I soon noticed a book titled, The Color Complex: The politics of Skin Color Among African Americans. The title caught my attention, but it was its promise to unveil the hidden prejudices among black people that sealed the deal. All my life I had been a victim of black on black racism: I was (and still am) dark skinned with full lips and, if I allowed my hair to grow in full you would most definitely notice my "not-so-good" crop of wool. I am after all a black man with black features, both a gift and a curse.
I would be a liar if I said I have not found myself staring in the mirror wishing my skin were lighter, my hair better, and my looks more you know, light-skinish. I have fallen victim to wanting to be other than I am. And each time I find myself there I wonder why? Why isn't being me good enough? Why isn't my brown skin and full lips good enough? Why am I not revered when I walk in a room like my light-skinned counter part? Why am I cute, and he phyne? Why am I looked over, and he looked for? Black is beautiful, so they say. Yet I find it extremely difficult to find that beauty that has not been tainted by the more popular belief: white is the fairest of them all.
In a society where we have been discounted by the mainstream through blackface, Jim Crow and the United States Constitution is there no wonder why features that appear somewhat [used on purpose] normal and/or acceptable around blacks suddenly becomes mortifying around whites? Is it true then that once we realize our beauty is not like theirs ours almost always dissipates? It is terribly sad, but true: so many of us apologize for our looks, and long for ways to hide what we feel others will not approve.
Until the 1960s most Black women, and some Black men, regularly straightened their hair. It was rare for a Black woman to be seen in public with unprocessed hair, and those who dared risked the ridicule and even chastisement of close friends and family members. When the Afro became fashionable during the sixties, it was radical in more ways than one. It not only associated the wearer with the politics of the Black Power movement, but, for women, it also signaled the abandonment of the hair-straightening products they had been conditioned to use since childhood. The Afro eventually went the way of all trendy hairstyles, and by the mid-seventies most Blacks (although not as many as before) had returned to processing their hair. ~Excerpt from The Color Complex
The issue of color in our community is a deep rooted one, one that cannot be remedied overnight, or fully thought out in one post. But it is one that should be brought out of the closet and discussed at length. If for no other reason than to realize much of what we know and feel about color is not our fault. It is the result of years and years of conditioning that unfortunately has affected our most intimate of thoughts.
