Have we allowed our society to redefine what beauty really means? (Photo courtesy of Thinkstockphotos.com)
I remember sitting around with the fellas a few years ago. And I said it: “Light-skinned brothers are making a comeback. Chocolate brothers have been on top of the game for decades. Morris Chestnut. Idris Elba. Watch out though. We’re on our way back.” It was 2011. Gone were the days of DeBarge and Prince. Light-skinned brothers had been pushed to the periphery. In my mind, there was hope. I had my examples lined up. Jesse Williams—women love him as a doctor on Grey’s Anatomy. Tony Parker—a hoops star who spoke fluent French. Not to mention Michael Ealy, a Tyler Perry movie favorite. We jokingly made our cases for which group was “in” and which group was “out” when it came to the ladies.
Last night, another light-skinned/dark-skinned issue was raised. But this one was much less light-hearted. It wasn’t a barbershop conversation. In fact, it probably isn’t regularly discussed in beauty shops because it’s a touchy subject. It addressed a harsh reality that women deal with every day.
Struggles, both internal and external, accompany the “call” of being a black woman. Skin color has internally divided the black community for decades. Last night, a documentary, titled Dark Girls, appeared on OWN—one of the few times you’ll catch a brother watching OWN—addressing this very issue.
The documentary began with a historical survey of African American culture and the impact of slavery on black people’s perception of themselves. Hundreds of years in colonized America being treated inferior has certainly had a psychological impact on African Americans. As the film pointed out, “The colonizer was superior. If the superior looked a certain way [i.e., white], then you aspired to reach that level.” From this mentality sprang the infamous “paper bag test.” If African Americans were lighter than a brown paper bag, they were beautiful. If they were darker than a brown paper bag, they were considered unattractive. I’d heard of this as a child, but growing up I never really bought it. In my adult years (especially while in college), I’ve learned that many young black girls really do wrestle with their skin color.
During the documentary, one interviewee wished she could just wake up lighter one day or at least wash her face to remove her skin color because she thought it was dirt. Another shared a story of a friend who exclaimed after the birth of her child, “Girl, I’m so glad [your baby] didn’t come out dark.” Another participant told producers that there was an unofficial policy at a store he worked at to hire lighter-skinned people rather than darker skinned people. Lighter-skinned people presented better. Really?
The more I watched, the more I was reminded that the struggle continues. To hear some of this stuff come out of people’s mouths was a bit disconcerting. Black people disparaging members of a people group they are a part of. And the media hasn’t been helpful. Viola Davis, award-winning actress, recalled, “I never [saw] any examples on television or film of anyone associated with beauty…that looked like me.” Imagine going through your entire childhood without seeing anyone black associated with beauty. The documentary pointed out that 7 out of 10 black girls ages 8-17 feel like they don’t measure up in appearance. That’s 70% of young black women walking around today! How are we, as an African American community, reassuring their beauty? What are we doing to increase our young women’s self-esteem?
Here’s the irony. Some white people spend tons of money trying to tan their bodies in order to get dark, while some black people spend tons of money trying to lighten their skin. One interviewee stated, “White people made me appreciate my skin color, black people made me question it.” She’d been complimented by whites for her skin color, while blacks vilified her skin tone. Just sad.
A few notable tweets in my feed last night:
Categorizing ourselves “light skin” or “dark skin”we are saying we are closer to the social construct that says white is more valuable. #DarkGirls
We, including myself, have to do better at recognizing where we believe certain lies and stereotypes about our beauty. #DarkGirls
I didn’t know anything about dark skin being “bad” until I transferred to majority black American school in 7th grade. #DarkGirls
There are so many shades of color in my family…we appreciate them all. #DarkGirls
How many more records would Angie Stone, India Arie, and Fantasia had sold if they looked like Alicia Keys, Rihanna, Ciara, or Beyonce? #DarkGirls
Truth is, every girl has a story to tell. Dark Girls who have to defend their beauty & Light Girls who have to defend their race. #DarkGirls
So what did the documentary teach me that I didn’t already know? Not much more than I already learned as a double HBCU graduate (shout out to Morehouse College and Howard Law School). But having it trend in social media was a conversation starter. A conversation that shouldn’t stop at identifying the problem, but coming up with adequate solutions to make young ladies feel valued. And maybe one day the only brown paper bag we care about is the greasy one from our favorite hole-in-the-wall soul food restaurant.
What are your thoughts on the Dark Girls documentary? Tired of the light-skinned/dark-skinned dichotomy? Speak on it.
It has been a year and a half since Robert Champion, a Florida A&M University drum major, died after being severely beaten in a hazing ritual. Within that time over a dozen of the students who participated in the hazing were charged—some facing up to 15 years in prison, Champion’s family sued the university, the Marching 100 was suspended, and band director, Dr. Julian White, retired. Widespread news of the hazing incident also resulted in a drop in enrollment, the president’s stepping down, and severe financial loss for the institution. Thus, the road to recovery has been a long one for the band and the school, but there seems to be a light shining at the end of the tunnel.
Within the last few weeks, a video of the FAMU Music Department has made its rounds making people wonder if the band is coming back. The video was part of “Working Together to Stop Hazing,” a recruitment and outreach tour targeting high school students in South Florida. The video not only showcases the band’s musical expertise, but also sheds light on the positive aspects of FAMU that mainstream media hasn’t touched on since the hazing incident. Various students in the music department extol the virtues of an education at the university and remind viewers that FAMU is still committed to “Excellence with Caring” (the school’s motto) by ending hazing and focusing on the development of brilliant and successful people. Here’s hoping that this is truly a sign of recovery for FAMU.
Check out the video of FAMU’s Music Department old school and contemporary music and discussing the core values of the school.
The Pace Sisters are the latest in the line of black folks who want their lives fixed. But are we looking in the right place?
“Fix me” is the new black. Black people love being fixed, don’t we? There’s no other reason we gather in front of our televisions and computer screens on Thursday nights and have a running commentary on ABC’s Scandal. Never mind the illicit affair with the leader of the free world, Olivia Pope makes her living fixing people. The irony is that she can’t even fix herself. She’s broken. According to this piece in The Atlantic, she’s looking for a savior. The fixer screams from the bowels of her soul, “Fix me!” We watch because something resonates with us about this idea of repairing something that’s broken in our lives. We all experience brokenness on some level. So Shonda Rhimes has merely tapped into that subliminal desire to be fixed.
The OWN Network wasn’t too far behind. They recruited Iyanla Vanzant to host a show they decided to call Iyanla: Fix My Life (clever). Because we all need fixing, right? And predictably so, the show is now the number one reality show on the OWN network. Good job, Oprah: you’ve successfully perpetuated the myth in black people’s mind that we need other folks to fix us. So you go out and recruit a well-known name to step into celebrities’ lives and fix them. This weekend Iyanla was asked to fix the lives of legendary gospel group the Pace Sisters. So let me get this right: you invite a New Thought Priestess and “spiritual guide” who cloaks spiritual language in Gnostic thought to fix your life and expect it to go over well? Cool, cool. But I digress. In the episode, the Pace Sisters were invited to join Vanzant on a two-day retreat to get to the bottom of what was going on in their family. And boy did that ever happen.
In a lucid account, the elder Pace sister, Duranice, recalled a horrific incident of sexual abuse in her past. The visceral response from her sisters and viewers alike elucidates the horrid nature of sex abuse and its impact. Another sister, DeJuaii, also vulnerably shared about her personal life. “I’m angry because I feel that my attraction to other women is wrong,” DeJuaii said, “that who I am is unacceptable because it embarrasses the family.” This caused another sister, June, to walk out of the room. When asked about it later, June stated, “I mean, we know better” (i.e., we were taught better than that). Vanzant scolded June for judging her sister and being saturated in a “dogma and a theology” that doesn’t embrace DeJuaii.
The lamentable thing I got from watching this is that it took a reality show for the sisters to discuss these issues. Growing up in a Pentecostal church, it’s very likely they felt they needed to suppress their issues rather than address them. Am I glad they started to talk about them? Yes. Am I happy about the fallout since then? No.
The Internet has been abuzz about the way some of the sisters treated DeJuaii’s discussion of her desire to be with women. One blogger is fed up with “nice-nasty” Christians like June. Another stated with frustration, “The closer I become acquainted with ‘devout Christians’ and those who represent leadership in the Christian community, the more I begin to feel like religion truly was created as a mechanism to control the masses.”
Unfortunately, many young, black adults share the same sentiments. Church is for those who want to be controlled. It’s stale, judgmental, and unattractive. This iconic group of black women who represent leadership in the church is full of dogmatic and legalistic robots.
Honestly, the caricature has played out on Christian reality television for the past year. And there’s more to come. This fall, we’ll be “blessed” with the opportunity to look into the lives of a group of pastors in Los Angeles. The show is aptly titled “Pastors of L.A.” No matter what, with these shows, the audience walks away with one thought: the Black church is hypocritical. If this is the perception the networks are giving, who can blame them? The Pace Sisters did very little to ease the burden of Christians who try to prove to the world that not all Christians are hypocritical. They did very little to prove that there are rational, loving ways to address issues (e.g., homosexuality) that have been normalized in our culture. And that’s the problem with Christian reality television. It doesn’t accurately reflect the Christian reality—a reality steeped in deep commitment to Christ and real, perceptible engagement with the world around us.
The Pace Sisters were looking for answers. Olivia Pope is still looking for answers (“Dad?!?!”). Let’s be candid here. We’re all looking for answers. We all want our lives fixed. But here’s the true “reality”: brokenness is part of the human narrative. The events in Oklahoma a few days ago confirm this. And we all look for meaning and purpose. Unfortunately, we tend to look for that meaning and purpose outside of our Creator. That’s why we create dogmatic, legalistic rules without life transformation. That’s why we try to earn merit with God ourselves. That’s why we look to a man (or woman) to affirm us. That’s why we work so hard to climb the corporate ladder. But one Pauline truth is informative here: “In [Christ], all things hold together” (1 Colossians 1:17b). All things. Your marriage. Your life. Your pain. Your scars. Your finances. The only Person capable of fixing our lives is Christ Jesus. Iyanla can’t. Olivia can’t. Barack Obama can’t. Congress can’t.
So after we reach the end of our DVRed episode, after the shock wears off, after the social media commentary is over, we still need a Fixer. No cameras. No pretense. Just Him. *insert Shonda bulb flash*
President Barack Obama delivers the commencement address to over 500 college graduates at Morehouse College on Sunday, May 19, 2013 (Photo credit: David Tulls, Newscom).
Last Sunday, President Barack Obama delivered the commencement address at Morehouse College. This marks the second time that Obama is delivering an address at an Historically Black College and University.
Obama spoke movingly about the power of setting examples – particularly in identifying and correcting the injustices within the world. He charged the graduating class to connect maximizing career opportunities while serving their respective communities: to practice law that defends the rich and powerful but also the powerless; to practice medicine and provide healing in well-served and underserved areas; and to run small business that create personal wealth while brings jobs to the economy and great products/services to the nation at large.
In speaking at the distinguished male-only college, the President situated himself within the legacy of luminaries: Ralph Abernathy, Ralph Bunche, Spike Lee, and Thurgood Marshall, and of course, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
With the facility of expression for which he is celebrated, President Obama used his life story – as well as the narratives of Drs. Benjamin E. Mays and Martin Luther King – to challenge the class of 2013 to exemplify excellence within their careers, communities, and families. If Morehouse Men could succeed during 1940’s and 1950’s, then so can you. If a skinny kid with a funny name can grow up to become President of the United States, then upward mobility is a dream within the reach of all black men. We’ve heard the refrains before, of course, but Obama delivered them with a noted vigor and vibrancy.
Still, President Obama delivered a rather safe speech – avoiding mention of what is often called the New Jim Crow; skipping over the massive loss of wealth among black families due to the Great Recession and mortgage crisis; and minimizing the role of structural discrimination within American labor markets by emphasizing the dog-eat-dog nature of a globalized labor market. A safe speech, but a strong one just the same. As the saying goes. You can tell a Morehouse Man – even an honorary one – but you can’t tell him much.
How Christians ought to respond to major debates in society is always an issue. Some current examples are same-sex marriage, abortion, the war on terrorism, and U.S. immigration policy. We form our positions based on our backgrounds and religious beliefs, but since our faith traditions differ widely, we are often all over the map just as much as people of other faiths or even agnostics or atheists.
Regardless of the sides Christians take, how we address and confront others is an important indicator of our relationship with God. It reflects how our lights are shining or not shining. When we exercise our right to protest, are we yelling at each other? Do we understand the difference between critical analysis, criticism, and judging? A judge is one who has the authority to render punishment upon someone who has broken a law. Are we holding up signs that damn to a hell those who disagree with us or whose behavior we disagree with, even though we own no hell to send them to? Isn’t this why Jesus, the ultimate judge, warned us not to judge? Are we seeking first to model ourselves after Jesus and how He would have us to address these critical issues of our time?
Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, the author of “Letter from A Birmingham Jail”, exemplified a direct and gracious way to communicate when we disagree with our conversation partners. (Photo Credit: ClarksvilleOnline.com)
Fifty years ago during the civil rights movement, one of the most contentious moments in America’s history, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was jailed for a nonviolent protest in Birmingham. Many who were against him were fellow Christians who felt his methods were too radical—even ungodly. In his “Letter from Birmingham Jail”, Dr. King addressed his fellow brothers and sisters directly. In the rhetorical tradition of African American Jeremiads, Dr. King eloquently cried out for justice by using rational, biblically grounded arguments to defend the cause of the civil rights movement. He wrote:
“A just law is a man made code that squares with the moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law. To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas: An unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal law and natural law. Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of superiority and the segregated a false sense of inferiority.”
Dr. King also defended his methods and behavior. He wrote, “In any nonviolent campaign there are four basic steps: collection of the facts to determine whether injustices exist; negotiation; self purification; and direct action. We have gone through all these steps in Birmingham.”
Dr. King had modeled the “ladder of hope” outlined in 2 Peter 1:4-14 We must have faith in what we believe and that we can accomplish all things through Christ. We need knowledge to apply that faith, so we ought to thoroughly educate ourselves regarding all sides of the issues we are confronting before we act. This faith and knowledge should prepare us to be self-controlled and respectful toward our fellow human beings—to be nonviolent in our interaction and, if necessary, confrontation. We will have the ability to persevere in a way that honors God in our positions and everything we do. And when people who do not know Jesus as their Lord and Savior see our behavior, they should see not hate, but God’s love in us – even if disagreement remains.
And so, as we confront the issues of the day, no matter how much our individual passions are riled, perhaps we Christians, as varied as we are, should remember to consider what we should be modeling. We should model our speech after the direct, but loving conversational approach of Jesus.
Sweet Brown, it was a good run while it lasted. Yesterday, a new Internet legend was born. His name is Charles Ramsey. Ramsey was at his Cleveland home eating some good old Mickey D’s when he heard screams coming from next door. After going to investigate, he found a young girl pleading for help. The young lady turned out to be Amanda Berry, a woman who went missing 10 years ago. Two other women, Gina DeJesus and Michelle Knight, who went missing in 2004 and 2002, respectively, were also found in the home. Check out the video interview with Ramsey below:
Some classic lines in there, right? So much personality. So much sincerity. Trending on Twitter. A lock for viral video of the month. I don’t want to discuss the timeline for Ramsey’s autotuned YouTube video release. Instead, I think it’s important that we talk about something he said in the interview:
Ramsey: “Bro, I knew something was wrong when a little, pretty, white girl ran into a black man’s arms. Something [was] wrong here. Dead giveaway! Deaaaddddd giveaway. Deaaaaadddddddddddddd giveaway. She’s got problems. That’s the only reason she’s running to a black man!”
Epic quote. Here’s a black man, living a predominately Latino community in Cleveland, who rescues a white girl from what appears to be a human trafficking situation. An unlikely hero. Ramsey’s comment reflects what many of us think, but don’t have the guts to say: Race relations in America still suck. But in this moment, Amanda Berry could care less if this dude was Black, Middle Eastern, Mexican, Columbian, Caribbean, or from the tribe of Zamunda. She saw a potential rescuer. I’m sure when her family heard the news of the rescue, their first words weren’t, “A black guy? Really?” What mattered most is that their girl was safe.
What was the telltale sign that showed Ramsey something was wrong? A white girl running into his arms. Culture hadn’t taught him this was the norm. Whites usually crossed the street when he came around. They clutched their purses a little more tightly. They got a little more pep in their step. They held their little Amandas a little closer. Now Ramsey was holding someone who he was taught, through experience, feared him. But there was a greater fear at work here. The fear of suffering another moment in that home—trapped for ten long years. Amazing how tragedy causes us to put aside our differences. Think back on the events that unfolded in Boston weeks ago. First responders weren’t categorized by race; instead, every able-bodied person rendered assistance to those in need.
Maybe we can learn something from Ramsey. And it’s not what he ordered from the Golden Arches that day. Nor is it how to leverage viral video success into a somewhat successful “career.” It’s just the opposite. Ramsey taught us several things yesterday. Evil is evil. It has no racial identity. There’s no race profile for victims. Heroes come to us in the most unlikely form. And it might be uncomfortable at first. I’m sure the first moment of that hug with Amanda Berry was awkward. But as Ramsey held her, he felt her humanity. He felt her pain. When we encounter injustice in any form in our lives daily, may we all feel the same pain—and put our Big Macs down and do something about it.
