50 shades of Black: my experiences with colorism | Amaya Allen | TEDxVanderbiltUniversity

It affects all humans, no matter if you’re Black, white, Asian or otherwise. It is a judgment that we make about people within our own race based on a system created so long ago. It is something ingrained in us, something that we do unconsciously. It is a cover-up that is always covered up. It is ugly. It is beauty. It is history. It is "herstory." It is my story. It is colorism.

Amaya Allen is a Vanderbilt University sophomore studying Law, History and Society and Communications Studies on a pre-law track. Originally from Queens, New York, Allen graduated from Medgar Evers College Preparatory School with honors in 2017 and received a full tuition Posse Foundation Scholarship. At Vanderbilt, Allen is a resident advisor for E. Bronson Ingram residential college and is involved in many student organizations including Caribbean Student Association and Evolve. During her summers, Allen has interned at The Asia Society as well as QBE North America. After she graduates from Vanderbilt, she plans on attending law school in the New York tri-state area.

Her likes and hobbies include eating blueberry muffins, bingeing The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and watching too many natural hair videos on YouTube. Her worst fear is to peak in life because she believes that she can only go up.

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at https://www.ted.com/tedx

I'm Black.

Ever since I can remember,
this is how I describe myself.

Now, describing myself as Black
was never something I did with hate.

I was one of those kids
that had to think about race

because when you grow up
with a white Jesus,

you will have some questions
as to why he doesn't look like you.

My mother was the first person

to really shape my views
on race and diversity.

Her explanation was simple:

there are people who are Black,
White, Asian, etcetera,

and although we all look different,
we're all the same.

And that was that.

I was in sixth grade when I found out
that I wasn't just Black -

I was, in fact, brown-skinned,

so in the middle
of the Black color spectrum.

The term brown-skinned is a relative one.

Compared to whom?

No one knows because it's all made up
and varies from person to person.

And yet, there's a very clear
understanding amongst most people

that Drake is light-skinned
and Lupita Nyong'o is dark-skinned.

I thought, "That's plausible."

There are people light-skinned,
brown-skinned, dark-skinned.

And in my Brooklyn middle school
full of Black people,

I thought there was no divide
between said shades of Black.

I mean, everyone hung out with everyone,
and everyone was generally respected,

even if there was the occasional,
"Yo, you mad dark."

Basically, there were other things

that we, as kids, focused on
that determined our social stratification.

Then I went to high school,
and I began to notice a couple of things.

I realized that the world around me

was a little biased towards people
with lighter skin.

I realized girls with lighter skin
got more likes and comments on Instagram.

And that guys I liked
only went after certain kind of girls.

I also realized that darker people

were not being represented in the TV shows
and movies that I was watching.

And if they were,

they were the ghetto
all-up-in-your-face like this,

secondary character.

However, the effects colorism
had on me at the time

were things I thought
I could avoid and even counter

by not giving it my energy
and living my life.

And so I did.

And for a while, it worked

because I managed to convince myself -
if I can separate myself from the problem,

I could avoid it.

That all changed when I got to college.

Because here, amongst all the college boys
and college pressures,

I learned a lot about myself
and a lot more about the world around me.

For the first time,
I no longer had the safety net

of having people
who thought exactly like me.

For the first time, the spectrum
of brown wasn't a spectrum.

It was a dichotomy.

You were either light-skin or dark-skin.

I was considered dark skin,

and people didn't see
that as a good thing.

I mean, of course, no one said to me,

"Amaya, you're dark-skinned,
so you're ugly."

But there were plenty of microaggressions
that made it very clear.

You know, the whole:

"It's not that dark-skinned
girls are ugly.

I just have a preference
for lighter girls."

It was here that I realized
that colorism is alive and well,

and people don't like to talk about it.

So what is colorism anyways?

Although this is not a new phenomenon -

it was finally coined in 1982
by Alice Walker, who defined it

as prejudicial or preferential treatment
of same-race people based solely on color.

The key term here is same-race people,

which makes it just a little
bit different than plain racism.

It's kind of like this:

if America was a tree,
and its roots were racism,

colorism would be like a leaf

stemming off of the branch
that's Eurocentrism.

This is because since Europeans
came into contact with Africans,

they believed that they
were the better race.

And this whole idea that light
was better than dark -

because white was better than Black -

never really went away.

And this is bad

because this means that not only
do darker Black people

have to deal with racism from white people
and people who aren't Black,

they also have to deal
with harsher treatment from other Blacks

because they're darker
than a brown paper bag.

There are so many reasons
this phenomenon is problematic.

However, for the sake of time,
I'll only share a few.

Colorism creates a stereotype
about what acceptable Blackness is.

It creates a model Black, if you will,

and colorism pits Black people
against each other,

which is what the white man wants.

So understand that light-skinned people
are not to blame for colorism.

They can't help the way they were born.

However, light-skinned
privilege does exist

because along with these views
and notions and stereotypes

of what acceptable Blackness
is come negative views

and notions and stereotypes

of people who do not fit
into this "whitist" Black box.

These stereotypes include:
being less educated, more ghetto, uglier

and, overall, less proper
than their lighter-skinned counterparts.

And this is seen
everywhere throughout time.

It's seen in minstrel shows

where white men would dress up
as a dark caricatures

and look almost idiotic
to make fun of Black people.

It's still seen in television today

where dark characters
are used as tools by writers

to contrast light characters,

so that the lighter characters
seem more vulnerable and soft.

For example, Penny Proud
from the Proud family

and her best friend, Dijonay Jones,

with their eight brothers and sisters
and a hard-to-pronounce name.

Or Pam and Gina from the Fox show Martin.

It's also in critically
acclaimed literature.

For example, Toni Morrison's
"The Bluest Eye,"

where the main character,
Pecola Breedlove,

was told over and over again

that because she was dark,
she was not pretty.

And she internalized that,

and that made her
hate light-skinned people.

The reason why this is so problematic

is because darker people
will go to drastic lengths

to become this model Black

to receive the privileges
associated with it.

This is why Caribbean people
bleach their skin.

This is why women tell their children,

"Don't go outside for too long
or you'll get too dark."

And this is why some dark men,
and women, in fact,

find the lightest person they can
to marry and have children with,

so that their children
aren't dark like they are.

This percolates the self-hatred
and pits Black people against each other.

Another thing to understand -

pitting Black people against each other -

not a new phenomenon.

It was used during slavery
from white people to divide and conquer.

White people do it now
for the same reason.

If you get Black people to hate each other

for something so natural and biological
as the color of their skin,

it's less likely
that they'll come together,

which means it's less work
you need to do to stay in power.

This phenomenon is shown best
in Spike Lee's movie "School Daze"

where one highlight
of the movie is a musical scene

where light-skinned and dark-skinned women
spew insults at each other, including:

jigaboo, nappy-headed and wannabe.

White people will also use this
to excuse their racist intentions

or notions.

By giving these model Blacks
special privileges

and helping them rise to the top,

they can hold these model Blacks
over the rest of the race, saying,

"The system isn't the reason
you're failing.

Look at these people:

They're succeeding.
You're the reason you're not.

These model Blacks ...

are succeeding."

And the craziest part is ...

this isn't even a phenomenon
only seen in the Black community.

Communities such as the Asian,
South Asian and Latinx communities

experience the same thing.

Colorism in these communities
takes many different forms.

Whether it's a Chinese laundry commercial

featuring a dark man
going into a washer machine

to become a lighter, more Chinese person

or Filipino people being told

that they're at the bottom
of the Asian totem pole

because they're dark.

In Bollywood, there's
been an outcry in recent years

because Bollywood movies
use too small of a range of skin tones

to represent the entire Indian population.

As a result,

some people have started countermovements
to counter this harmful propaganda,

such as Nandita Das and her
"Why Dark Is Beautiful" campaign.

Latinx stars such as Amara La Negra
receive significant backlash

over trying to break the mold
of what mainstream Latinx stars look like,

including hyper-scrutinization
over her hair and skin,

being accused of Blackface
and not even being considered Latina.

So because this is something
that affects so many people,

you'd think it's something
that more people spoke up about.

And yes, there's been increased interest
in the whole colorism thing.

However, the reason it's not as loud

as it could be is because people
think it's natural.

They've never been exposed
to anything different.

It's what they grew up on.

And even if you did grow up
in a household like I did

where you were taught

that your Black's beautiful
or your brown's beautiful

and that your dark skin was great
and your hair's also great,

once you walk out that door,

you will feel all
of the effects of colorism.

Period.

So what was the point
of me telling you this?

Well, I believe the famous quote goes,

"The first step to recovery
is admitting that you have a problem."

And yes, there are a lot
of problems out there - er, Trump.

However, the reason they're being fixed
is because there are people out there

who are working tirelessly
to get the public

to acknowledge that there's something
that needs to be fixed.

And this is one of them.

I don't have one
particular solution to colorism

because I'm one girl,
and I've had only one experience.

However, I do want to stress something.

Once America and the rest
of the world, really,

recognize that colorism isn't natural,

and that instead it's been instilled
in our minds for generations

that lighter is better,

then we as humans can start
the decolorization process.

We need to kick this to the curb
and leave it in our past

because do we really want
our time on Earth to look like this?

Thank you.

(Applause)