I have been thinking a lot about skin color recently. There is a lot of talk about the fact that light skinned Black people get more attention then dark skinned Black folk.
There’s a picture of the super hero known as Storm floating around, and although she’s South African, Storm has traditionally been known as a Dark skinned Black woman. In recent years however, she’s gotten whiter, and whiter, and whiter.
I can understand the frustration of my dark skinned sisters and brothers, but can you please stop saying that I have it easier? Because I don’t, and I never fucking have.
Growing up I was bullied by white kids for being too dark, I was also raped as a seven year old girl, by a white boy. I got raped a lot growing up, with the exception of two or three of my rapists, they have always been white men.
My skin color has always been a blatant reminder that I am not safe, largely because my rapists fetishsized my skin color, child pedophiles specifically.
Don’t tell me that I am not Black, I am tired of that fucking narrative. The white world makes the choice every time I come in contact with them, to see me as a Black woman. They treat me just as bad as they treat dark skinned Black women.
The world hasn’t given me a fucking inch. Everything that I have I built with my own two hands. With the exception of my mother, God love her, I am largely alone in my existence.
Granted that’s the way I want it right now, but that’s because I am like the dog who has been abused by humans kicked too much. I’m not ready to trust that I, as a Black woman, am going to be safe in a world that has proven time and time again that they hate me, because of the darkness of my skin.
I will never forget a white passing Asian woman saying that she was a woman of color. This is a woman who has had ever opportunity, who has worked incredibly hard to get where she is, while simultaniously ignoring the struggle that I experience as a medium dark skinned Black woman.
The offense of that was heart breaking because it ended a friendship, more than that it taught me just how much power white skinned people have, regardless of their genetic make up.
I don’t care who you are, or what the color of your skin is, from now on I am not engaging in conversations about who is or is not Black. It’s not your place to tell someone that they have to deny their Black roots in order to make you more comfortable.
That’s it, that’s the problem, you’re uncomfortable because your life has been fucking difficult, and you think it would be easier on this side of the grass, unfortunately however, for those of us who are bi-racial and lighter than you that is not actually the case.
If I were born white my life would have been a lot easier, I would not have been raped by white supremacists, I would not have been beaten by Black men who wanted to fit in with their white counterparts.
Or maybe all this bad stuff would have happened to me anyways, no one will ever know, because at the end of the day I was born a colored girl. I decided to become a proud colored girl because the other option is to feel bad about the fact that I have beautiful colored skin, and I refuse to feel bad that God decided to paint me with coffee caramel colored skin, just to make you more comfortable.
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall