Tar baby, light bright, darkie, high yella—words that many in the Black community have heard or been called, me included. Growing up, I was a shade or two lighter or darker than my mom, depending on the season. Walking around as a lighter skinned child with light-colored eyes elicited varying responses-- from curious gazes to those wondering if I was mixed. (I am not.) There were even full-on stares from adults who wondered if my light brown eyes were real. (They are.) As a young person, that unwanted attention caused me to build safety defensives, such as finding the nearest corner so that I could hide and not be seen or heard. I wanted to avoid those stares.While my experience may resonate with others, it is limited to that of a light-skinned person, one who can only understand but not fully understand the trauma and concerns of my darker-skinned counterparts. Assuming that I understand their trauma does a disservice to them and the work that they do to educate and heal a world struggling with colorism.
Skin privilege
While I had a lived experience of colorism, it was not until researching this topic that I learned from a Time.com piece that colorism, the practice of favoring a lighter-skinned person over a darker-skinned person, was a term derived from an essay by Alice Walker. Like those in the Black community, darker complexioned Asians, Indians, and Hispanics also experience colorism, something that has been highlighted over the last few years.There are certain privileges that result from being lighter skinned in America. For me, it allows the ability to walk into certain places with the comfort that I will be served without the worry that I will receive the bare minimum of service. In some cases where store employees follow Black and brown people, I am less likely to be followed than my darker skinned counterparts. And while I may receive different treatment as a lighter skinned person, there is also the reality that I am Black, and will, can, and have experienced racism. As well as the fear, and anger that result from being discriminated against or targeted because of my skin.
While, I may receive different treatment as a lighter skinned person, there is also the reality that I am Black, and will, can, and have experienced racism.
With such privilege comes an unspoken responsibility to be the face of the group in these situations. When I am with my daughter, who is darker skinned, I place myself in front of her to shield her if I am unsure that she will be treated well. Or I stand behind her to let the person she is interacting with know that she is not alone and has support. But I cannot be with her or protect her 24/7. That protectiveness is born out of a necessity as a Black person. It is an unspoken tradition passed down through generations, particularly from my mother and her sisters, who lived during Jim Crow and its aftermath. I cannot protect her from the slurs of those who look like her, such as “midnight” or “darkie,” slurs my daughter has been called as her skin darkened from playing outside. Nor can I protect her from the insecurity she feels after being called a slur, when she looks at her skin and compares it to her lighter-skinned mother and grandmother. No matter how many times I tell her that her dark skin is gorgeous, it doesn’t always heal the hurt that those slurs create.
When you are darkest is when you are the most beautiful. It is when you are most you.”—Sulwe
Knowing my limitations, I use my village to have those conversations with her around colorism and darker skin. I do this by connecting my daughter with other beautiful, darker skinned women. These women have experienced everything she is experiencing and more, yet they continue to triumph. Sharing an experience with someone who looks like her has helped to rebuild her confidence and heal wounds inflicted by careless words from children who have not come to accept that words said in laughter can hurt others. While the village is great, books, articles, and movies like Spike Lee’s School Daze or shows like A Different World, have provided a different perspective on the issue of colorism in the Black community, creating a space for dialogue and the opportunity to explore both feelings and context of the impact colorism not just in the Black community, but the world as a whole.
The lighter you are, the further you’ll go
In a perfect world, we wouldn’t treat someone differently based on the color of their skin, but we don’t live in a perfect world. Whether it’s the brown paper bag test where you have to be lighter than a brown paper bag to be hired or to gain entry into certain social organizations or the perception that darker skinned folks are less intelligent than lighter skinned or white people, the color of a person's skin continues to play a significant factor in their professional and personal world. An example of this is the assumption that darker skinned people are only intelligent enough to work what may be considered low-skill, menial jobs, such as housekeepers or porters, that keep them hidden or require minimal interaction with the public, while lighter skinned people work the customer facing jobs, like secretaries or receptionists.But that is something that happened back in the 1950s or 60s, we are not still doing this in 2024, right? We have laws and protections in place to stop such biases, right? No, and yes. Yes, there are laws in place to address discrimination based on skin color, but that does not mean that when a person is hired, they will not experience colorism in the workplace.Meera, a dark-skinned Indian shares an experience with colorism highlighted in Ruchika Tulshyan’s Harvard Business Review article, How Colorism Affects Women at Work. Meera, who moved from India to the U.S. for work found that although she was meeting the expectations of her position, she was often denied advancement, denied the opportunity to present a project that she was leading in favor of a lighter skin colleague, and experienced microaggressions. Colleagues would intentionally leave her off of important emails or ignore her when she was speaking.
The mental strain of showing up every day to a discriminatory work environment can manifest in a variety of physical alignments, like ulcers, loss of hair, and high blood pressure.
Meera is not an anomaly. A 2020 survey conducted by Enlightened Solutions found that 74% of respondents felt they were passed over for a job or promotion that they were qualified for, and 77% were subjected to inappropriate comments about their physical appearance. Some may think that is the cost of being employed and people should not blame their skin color. Perhaps they didn’t get a promotion or that demeaning words do not hurt, and people should just suck it up and do their job. The reality is they are wrong. The mental strain of showing up every day to a discriminatory work environment can manifest in a variety of physical alignments, like ulcers, loss of hair, and high blood pressure.
Confronting history to improve our future
The history of colorism can be traced to slavery when lighter skinned slaves worked in the house and darker skinned slaves in the fields. Four hundred years later, we are still using colorism to divide and conquer, to pigeonhole a group of people and sustain generalizations about them. It may not be as blatant as requiring potential employees to pass the brown paper bag test, but it can be seen in how directors talk with subordinates, how medical professionals speak with patients, and how teachers may have one set of rules for white and lighter-skinned students compared to darker-skinned students.We do not have to continue accepting it. That is where work, like that of our Community Engagement & Racial Equity staff, comes into play. While working to understand, support and advocate the needs of those in some of our economically challenged communities, they also provide a voice to those affected by racism, colorism, and economic discrimination through their research and events.
In Ohio, 1,703,313 women categorize themselves as Black, and they come in many different hues of black and brown.
In Ohio, 1,703,313 women categorize themselves as Black, and they come in many different hues of black and brown. Some of them live in constant chaos and fear of being targeted because of their skin, while others have it a little easier and can advance further because of their skin. Neither situation is fair.As one of the one million plus Black women who call Ohio home, who is the child of another one of the one million plus Black women, and the mother of another of the one million plus Black women, there is a responsibility to address and stop upholding the policies of colorism within my family and community. Does it make me woke? No. But it does make me a productive member of a community searching for solutions that will improve and elevate the lives of those near and dear to me.
