Confessions of a Brown Skinned Girl: The Good, The Bad and Confused

MelaninQueen21

"Light Skinned". "Brown Skinned". "Dark Skinned". "Caramel". "Light Brown". "Medium Brown". "Dark Brown". "Light Caramel", "Tanned". "Light Mocha". "Coffee Brown". "Pencil Brown". "Chocolate"...

Everything that's listed above are what what I've been described as! Here's a few recent pictures of me:

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Growing up as a Black girl, in a racially and culturally diverse city in the Upper Midwest, I was raised in a neighborhood with people from all kinds of backgrounds, sizes, shapes and shades of the rainbow. I had friends from all races and colors of life. Growing up, I didn't care what color or ethnicity you were, all I cared about was that if you were kind to me and we shared common interests, we were gonna be friends!

I grew up with friends of Peruvian, Filipina, Korean, Chinese, Puerto Rican, Angolan, Arab, Mexican and European backgrounds. And they all ranged in skin tone. We didn't care about what skin color the other possessed. It never crossed my mind and it probably never crossed their minds, either. Hopefully.

When I was a preteen, I moved from the Midwestern city to a Deep Southern town. What a cultural and climate change that was, for sure. Trying to fit in was another thing... but my family, my sister and I, were ultimately judged for being different. I didn't understand why, at that age, especially. Throughout my middle school years and my 9th and 10th grade years, it was vicious. It was a struggle. Not only was it hard adjusting to southern life, but it was hard dealing with the bullying that my sister and I had endured.

Although we were bullied by both genders, it was mostly the girls picking on us, for reasons we still don't understand why. The girls who would mostly pick on us were other Black girls. We were not only shy and reserved, but we were Black girls who bestowed themselves, distinguished themselves, a part from the rest. The constant bullying was too much too bear. So we started homeschooling in the 11th grade. But in our freshmen and sophomore year of high school, the bullying from the other girls had gotten worse. We were also compared to others in the school, which included our (my) skin color.

I remember in one of my periods (classes), I was grouped with some other kids to prepare a meal (I was in like a culinary class). One of the Black girls who I was teamed with questioned if my hair color was real (in which I had recently dyed it red). Then she continued to ask me what I was mixed with! ...With a confused look on my face, I said to her, "I'm Black". She continued by saying, "I know you're Black, but what are you, really?" Not only was my hair and ethnicity questioned by others, but others started to categorize my skin color. But pointing that out, I do specifically remembering being mostly bullied by other Black girls, who possessed dark skin. (I want to point out that everyone skin color is beautiful in it's own way and that nobody should be judged on their attraction based on skin color). But I never realized this until I was in college. The girls that would pick on my sister and I had dark skin. My sister and I had guys crushing on us. Not just the Black males, but the Hispanic and White males. I don't know if this has anything to do with it, but my sister was called an Oreo. Both of us has a different style from the most of our peers. Our style was even different from each others. We stood out from the crowds.

I remember one of the janitors had came up to my sister and I at lunchtime. We were sitting by ourselves. He had bought us a Klondike bar and talked with us. He mentioned that we weren't like the other kids in school. We dressed differently, we talked differently, we weren't from the south, we didn't hang out with the crowd that others "like us" hanged out with; we were good and respectful students... and the reason why many didn't like us, which resulted in bullying, was because we were... different! Although he had said other encouraging words to us, that stood out the most to me and that's what I most remember. That's when I began to realize why we were being picked on. It's stupid and ridiculous, but it's understandable as to why someone would pick on someone else, who doesn't fit in with the crowd. They don't know how to approach the situation, or how to approach that person. And people barely knew us, or anything about us. So they talked about us and teased us. That's, sadly, what kids and adults, do.

College was a new beginning for me. Social life was more easier and people were more respectful. In my freshmen year, my co workers friends, who were dark and brown skinned, were talking about skin color. I'm minding my own business, until I hear my name being dragged into the conversation. They pointed to me and said to me that I'm light skinned. Upon hearing this, I turned around and said to them, "I'm not light skinned." They turned to look at each other and started to laugh at the comment I made. I was confused. They proceeded to ask me, "What color do you think you are?" I answered, "Medium Brown". They continued to laugh and proceeded to say that I'm light. This happened on a few other occasions as well.

Another incident, similar to the previous ones, happened also. My co workers and their friends were talking about slavery and mentioning which one of them would be working in the fields and which ones would be in the house. When it came to me, they said, "Oh, she'd be out in the fields". "Well, she's a bit lighter, so she'd be a house slave, since she lighter." I'm thinking to myself, why would they talk about something like this? This incident actually happened twice. A few other friends, friends of the family, has said to me, "Oh, you light like your grandma", or "You pale", or "My father was about (looking around the room) your complexion". A kid back in middle has even said the same thing.

I vividly remembering after the incident that day (college situation), I remembering going home. And as I was in the shower, I became down and confused about my skin color. I was questioning why some people saw me as light skinned, or light brown. All my life, I knew I was Brown skinned. I had no if's, and's or but's about what shade I was. I was content in my own skin. But after more than a few incidents and comparisons, I began to feel befuddled about it. I wondered if how people actually saw me is what I really am than from what I see in the mirror. And when I would correct some about what I am, I would get laughed at for it.

I then began to do online analysis about how people saw me. I got a variety of answers. People from all over the world with different views about how they saw me. Somebody from England had a different view than from someone from India or someone from Norway, Mexico, Nigeria, Egypt, Lebanon, Texas! Not only was it educational and intriguing, but it made me think about how we not only view ourselves, but others around us. I think that where we live has a lot of influence. I've never been followed around in the store, I've never been rejected a job because of my race... but I've had my hair touched by many, without permission, just because it was "interesting". But I've had people made assumptions (conclusions) about me, due to my race.

Yes, I am Black and I would not trade my race for any other. But I've always taken my race and heritage with pride. Although I know that I am a descendant of Black slaves, who were kidnapped from their native lands of West Africa, I am also the descendant of the European immigrants, slave owners and the Indigenous Peoples of America. As a kid, I've always been aware of my Irish and Native roots. Just like I've taken pride in my Afro American side, I loved the Irish and Indigenous blood that is running through my veins. Even though I barely knew where my ancestry came from, I knew that it came from the content of Africa, Europe and North America. When I took a DNA test and did some research, I found out a little more about myself. I found out that I had pretty recent ancestry from Sierra Leone, England, Ireland and California (where my Native ancestry comes into play). My DNA results were pretty interesting too, but I won't dive into that. After finding out a bit more of myself, I began to accept and acknowledge all of me. I claimed and acknowledged the White/European side of me and I claimed my Native ancestry, which I have proof of. Not only have I received backlash for that, but I've been judged. Many have said that I'm denying my blackness by claiming my White heritage. Many have also said that I wanted to be White or that I'm self hating. Although what they were saying was untrue, it hurt. It hurt that many would think that way about someone they don't even know. But I realize that as long as I know who I am and how I feel about myself, that no matter what is said about me, that does not define me! How I see myself, how I treat others and what I do with my life is what will define me.

Although I would like to continue on with this topic, although I feel like I'm getting off topic a bit, the point of my post was to make people aware of not only some of the struggles I've faced growing up, but some of the things that I had endured. Life wasn't easy on my family. We didn't grow up in the projects, we didn't talk with a "slang"; we grew up in a diverse neighborhood, we grew up in a city with the best education one can get (since the city I grew up in is one of the US cities known for it's college), but we still suffered as a minority. As a Black girl, this makes me open my eyes a little more. It makes me see things a little bit more clearly now. Growing up in two different regions, in a time where race still plays a part in everyday life, it makes me wonder if Black girls like me, and other women of color, will see a change in how we are viewed and how we see ourselves. Yes things are changing, but how much of it is changing? In the future, I want my offsprings to see themselves as an individual and not a color. I want them to see themselves in a light or good things to come. I want them to love and respect others for who they're and for not what they're not. Growing up as a double minority in the US is something special and it's something that I would not ever trade.

This has been, "Confessions of a Brown Skinned Girl".

Confessions of a Brown Skinned Girl: The Good, The Bad and Confused
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