White skin like Sarah.
On having a conversation about race and beauty way earlier than I thought I would have to.
*Note, the name of the actual classmate mentioned has been changed for her privacy*
This past weekend, Ava and I were on our way to visit my dad and spend the afternoon with him. She was looking out the window sullenly when she said something that almost made me crash the car.
“I wish I had white skin like Sarah. White skin is more beautiful and I don’t want brown skin anymore.”
I was shocked, heartbroken, and confused because it came out of nowhere and yet it sounded like something she’d heard before. Something that’s been on her little mind enough causing confusion and moments of uncertainty about her own beauty that her brain can’t yet fully comprehend. She doesn’t even go to school with Sarah anymore, a girl she excitedly exclaimed was her best friend and whose father gave me the creeps, and yet it’s still on her mind.
Having my own struggles with beauty growing up, and darker skin than Ava, I knew I’d some day have a conversation about white beauty standards with her. But not this soon. Not at the tender age of four when the only things on her mind should be the alphabet, toys, and Bluey, and Rubble, and all their crews. Not this.
I knew I had to act quickly even though all I wanted to do was pull over and cry, so I asked her why she thought that. I then began to affirm her beauty. We’ve talked about brown skin being beautiful before, but I admit it’s been awhile since we’ve had that discussion. She also said she wished she had white hair (Sarah has white-blonde hair) instead of brown hair. I told her that her brown skin and brown hair is amazing and beautiful. I told her no skin was better than the other and that she doesn’t need to have white skin because Sarah has it. I played “Brown Skin Girl” repeatedly and we danced to it on the rest of the ride there.
After a couple of hours at Chuck E. Cheese’s, my dad took her to a local supermarket to buy a new toy. She immediately dashed toward the dolls and started to pick one out. In a sea of white babies of various ages and accessories stood only one brown-skinned infant with three accessories. I quickly grabbed it and said, “Would you like this one, Sweets?” I more assertively demanded… maybe? After those comments earlier, there was no way the Black momma in me could let her walk home with a white doll as her new favorite toy to adore and dote on. Not when those thoughts are swirling in her head already. No, thank you.
I can’t lie though, it is Monday morning and this is still bothering me. I’m wondering if she was told this by an adult or Sarah? I’m wondering how long she has thought or felt this. I’m wondering what is going on in her little four year old brain. And I’m lamenting years of her possibly wrestling with her self esteem not only because of antiquated and racist standards of beauty, but because of being in environments where she is one of few with brown skin.
I shared this incident with her father who reported that she requested the “Brown skin song” on the way home and enjoys it so much. We used to listen to it every morning on the car ride to daycare and I wish I was home now to continue. Every day moving forward I will affirm my baby’s beauty and in turn, heal part of my inner child who also longed for lighter skin at one point in time.
Currently.
Feeling — A mixture of sadness, anxiety, and anticipation. So much change happening. So much uncertainty. It’s hard to wrap my mind around it all.
Reading — “Waiting to Exhale” still.
Listening — I’ve listened to a few different audio books lately on my drives to and from Maryland. I’m waiting for my Spotify book listening hours to renew to start my next one.
Anticipating — Hearing back about a final interview for a position I really want and actually need like yesterday.
Contemplating — What I want in more ways than one.
Affirming — I am the best mother for Ava.
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I definitely remember the “I had a dream I had blonde hair” period of early school age years. 💕
It broke my heart seeing this in your stories. We all will affirm our beautiful sweets. And again, you are wonderful mama 🤎