Guest Story by Dawn
When I was a little girl I did not realize why my mother got so mad when someone said that I was a pretty black girl. She would always asked the person why they had to put the black in that sentence. I was just happy someone called me pretty and I knew that I was a black girl, so what was my mother’s problem? At that age, pretty was nice, girl was nice, but the way my mother reacted to black I thought it was something bad. In my teenage years black was like a disease. If you were light skinned you were beautiful and if you were black you were ugly. I never felt ugly I just wanted to be liked, so I wanted to be light. A hand full of people would call me blackie but I did not care. As long as they did not put their hands on me, they could say what ever they pleased. Kids the same shade as I would call me blackie, but I realized they were just uneducated about all blacks. Thinking back, I am glad that it did not lower my self-esteem. I am glad that I was strong enough to let it roll off of me. When I was dating I had a guy tell me that he never dated a darkskinned girl. I stopped dating him after that statement because I did not want to be his experiment. When I started getting my hair pressed is when I started being noticed. I guess guys did not want a darkskinned, kinky hair girl. One guy told me that I had a white nose. What is that???? I am black so I have a black nose on this here black face. I have dated many different shades. I did not date my husband because he was lightskin. I dated him because he was a nice person. When I became an adult I realized that half of the people, especially dark people, have a problem with dark people. This is sad but needs to be addressed. People have to learn to love themselves. I love my self, my mother, my husband, my children, my people no matter what shade they are. The famous line from The Color Purple is what comes to my mind…..I AM POOR, BLACK, I MAYBE EVEN UGLY , BUT DEAR GOD I AM HERE, I AM HERE!!!
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