raccoon-piss:

nemuwii:

i dont think whites understand how being white makes literally everything easier.

it effects everything.

being trans is easier when youre white.

being gay is easier when youre white.

being disabled is easier when youre white.

being a woman is easier when youre white.

being autistic is easier when youre white.

oppression is eased when you are white, as you get extra privileges, and your whiteness is seen as a positive characteristic that in some ways counter-balances your other forms of being a minority. whiteness controls everything.

you are automatically way more innocent in your own oppression as a gay, trans, disabled person because of your whiteness.

never forget this.

three things:

1. it’s true

2. white people get pissed when i bring this up/wear this shirt

3. the comments to this thread melted my fucking eyeballs seriously why the fuck are y’all like this

Thanks everyone for such kind and supportive messages. I am still active on my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/darkindianbeauty/

This is an anti-colorism/dark skin representation page

Login • Instagram

Please follow if interested ❤️

“Ugh I didn’t like France. French people are racist”“Go to Italy! They’re so friendly and I hear they love black women”“Do Germans even have black people outside of the military?”

It’s something almost every black traveller fathoms before venturing abroad. How will my blackness be perceived in this predominantly non-black space? It’s a valid concern. At best, our otherness might put us on a flattering pedestal. At worst, we might get mistreated. Even traveling to remote areas of the U.S you will find people that stare at you and ask aggravating questions like “Can I touch your hair?”. I certainly wondered about how I’d fare as a black woman before moving to France. 

But this post is really not justabout me. Yes I am black. Yes I am in Europe. But that really doesn’t make me special. Because even though only a small percentage of African Americans travel to Europe yearly, there are tens of millions of black people that are already there: Afro-Europeans. 

Black people don’t just live in Africa and the United States. Thanks (but like, no thanks) to colonialism, the African diaspora truly reaches some of the most unlikely corners of the earth. Most African Americans make the mistake of assuming that we are the only group of african descendants living as the underrepresented, mistreated, systematically oppressed minorities in predominantly white spaces. Tell that to the 55 million Afro-Brazilians. Or the millions of black descendants in the UK, Italy, and France. 

But our egocentricism isn’t entirely our fault. I, too, had no idea exactly how many black and brown people lived in Europe until I came here. I assumed based on films, television, and images I had seen growing up that Europe is one homogenous white continent. Full of sameness with very little variation of color or culture (or at least not culture from an ethnic standpoint). It’s the invisible diversity of Europe. In the same way African-Americans lack representation in almost all facets of our society, Afro-Europeans lack it even more. 

I had met a lot of people my first couple of months in France but I still felt something was missing. I yearned to connect with people that were like-minded. People in which I had an inevitable bond with. In short, I needed to make black friends. It sounds silly to some but anyone a part of a minority group in some way (race, sexuality, etc) understands this desire. 

The problem was never the lack of black people, but how to organically make friends with them. Making friends as an adult is not an easy feat. When you’re a kid it’s so easy! All you have to do is say this: 

But how do you tell a random person you think they’re kinda cool and we should hang out in the most platonic way possible without being creepy? 

Several months later and I’ve met friends of friends, connected with random people through social media, and have even joined a Black Expats in Paris meet-up. By speaking with people I’ve gathered quite a few perspectives. 

African Americans are both admired and envied in France. Believe it or not, we have the type of global visibility not afforded to others of the African Diaspora. African Americans are the examples of cool, the creators of pop culture. Our celebrities are their celebrities, our favorite TV shows are their favorites too. African Americans are vocal in periods of inequality and reactionary during times of social injustice. Mike Brown & Trayvon Martin are not only names uttered on American soil. “I Have a Dream” is familiar to all European ears, the “Black Lives Matter” cry has been heard around world and the Civil Rights Movement is a part of their curriculum just as much as ours. In short, the Black American experience has left a definite mark in world history. 

For Black Europeans, however, their history tends to get shoved under the rug. I am not AT ALL an expert on this topic but here is a concise history of European colonization in Africa in my own words. 

**Anndi’s Quick and Over-simplified History on the Conquest of Africa**

In the late 1800s, several European countries such as the UK, France, and Portugal had set up port cities in Africa for trading goods and resources. Everything was cool until this dude named King Leopold II of Belgium was like, “you know what would be awesome? My own territory in the Congo”. So homeboy sliced out a chunk of the Congo for his own PERSONAL benefit, not even in the name of Belgium. The other European powers (UK, France, Italy, Portugal, and Germany) started to freak out and thought, “Damn my ego is super big, how can I make it bigger?”. So they had a meeting in Germany, found a map of Africa, and literally cut the continent apart like slices of pizza. It’s worth mentioning that none of the African countries in question were invited to said pizza party. So NINETY PERCENT of the continent was colonized without permission,MILLIONSof Africans were forced into labor, resources were exploited, men were killed, women were raped, children were maimed, feuding ethnic groups were mixed…all under the guise that they were “saving uncivilized savages from eternal damnation”.

Flash forward several decades and the European Powers finally started to leave. Whether they left on their own accord or were driven out by revolutionary groups, the heinous effects of imperialism are evident for several African countries by way of corrupt governments, tireless civil wars, and psychological trauma.

**The End** ….Except not the end because these heinous effects still linger. 

I’ve noticed a slight lack in community for Afro-French people. For African-Americans, there’s this idea of fictive kinship. I may not know you from Adam, but if we are the only two black people within a predominantly white space then we will acknowledge one another. But that’s only on a micro-level. On a macro-scale, we have become masters of creating spaces for ourselves. Hair salons & barbershops, Historically Black Colleges and Universities, BET Network, NAACP… we have a black national anthem!! All with the intent of uplifting and strengthening one another, for validating our place in a society not made for us. 

But our sense of community derives from our shared experiences. Many of our ancestors were slaves. Many of our living relatives grew up in segregation. For France, and many other European countries, the experiences of black europeans, while similar, are not identical nor are they shared. At any rate, its hard to have a sense of community when you don’t even know how many people of African descent live in your country. Apparently, taking an ethnic census is constitutionally banned in France. 

For Afro-french people, they’re not bound together by race as much as their family origins. If you’re a black woman from Guadeloupe, you might feel a bigger bond to people from the West Indies than to those from West Africa. Honestly, I envy greatly that Afro-Europeans know exactly where they come from and even have family that still live in those countries. I have never felt so shameful about not knowing my roots until moving here. Every time I meet an Afro-french person for the first time, the conversation goes as follows.

Them:So where are you from?

Me:I’m from the U.S!

Them:Yeah, I know. But like where are you really from?

Me: Washington, DC. 

Them:What’s your family origin I mean to say.

Me:Um…I don’t know? My ancestors were slaves so…

Them:…..

Me:…..Nice meeting you! 

In general, there’s this idea that black people are never really from whatever predominantly white country they reside in. Afro-french people can be born and raised in Paris and never feel or be seen as “french”. Even when I meet White Europeans, they are generally skeptical about my origin story but for a different reason. Because I have a lighter skin tone than most Afro-french, many assume that I am “métisse” or mixed. During my trip to Italy, an italian man told me “You’re beautiful. I love mulattowomen”. The assumption really bothers me because black and beautiful are not mutually exclusive concepts homeboy! But I do love their faces of disappointment when I tell them I am proudly, undeniably, 100% BLACK. 

But let’s discuss some positives, for there are many. While Black French don’t organize against injustices in the same way we do, that doesn’t mean they aren’t having these important conversations. The Afro-fem movement seems to be really big here. I’ve seen countless articles, youtube videos, tweets, and have even been invited to conferences by Afro-feminists to discuss the interesting balance of race and gender. 

I’ve met so many black french women who are smart and woke. Clever and funny. Women who want to be a voice for their community. Women who are artists, poets, and singers. Women who are beautiful inside and out. Women who are writers. Women who are fly. Women who are college educated. Women who want to uplift and strengthen their fellow sisters. Women who want to be a vessel for serious change in their society. 

So don’t sleep on Afro-Europeans. They have a very real place in our world. 

I would be remiss not to mention the Strolling Series by Cecile Emeke, which was in truth my personal introduction to Afro-European voices. Cecile Emeke is a British woman who brilliantly decided to film black individuals across the African diaspora. The result? Unraveling the generalized blanket of our black experiences into singular, personal threads of testimony. Emeke has filmed in the Netherlands, Italy, Jamaica, and many other countries and its widespread appeal has garnered a huge Youtube following. Of course, you’ll hear the familiar stories of micro-agressions, respectability politics, and self-love affirmation. But you’ll also hear views on mental health, sexual orientation & expression, capitalism, veganism, colonial reparations, and a plethora of other subjects not often heard from black standpoints. 

If you’re interested, I would start with one of my three favorites: Two Black Friends in France ,One Black Male Feminist from the UK, orA Black Actress in London. 

So what does it mean to be Black in Europe? I have the same answer for someone who would ask what its like to be black in the U.S. There is no simple answer. The culture, the attitudes, the ideas, the joys, the struggles of black people are not monolithic. They are varied. They are nuanced. They may intersect but they don’t coalesce. 

I write this to say there is more to the black experience than what you have experienced personally. I think its important not only to have conversations on blackness within the US but in a global context as well. And lets remind ourselves that as Black Americans, our global visibility gives us a certain level of privilege. The next time you say #BlackLivesMatter, mentally expand that demand outside of North America. When you think of the black community, challenge yourself to think beyond your own borders. 

And if you’re able, travel abroad. Talk to people. Have these discussions. Your eyes and minds will open wider than you know. 

ursie:

The constant colorism/whitewashing of Karen/Bumblebee is getting ridiculous. Like look at this

Compared to this (and let’s be honest her prev dcshg design is on thin ice but at least her eyes are brown??)

I was just reading the webtoon rn too. Dang I didn’t know that was supposed to be Bumblebee Karen

First thing’s first. Remind yourself that Asia is huge, and there are a ton of people living there. Asians are currently a full 63% of the world’s population. Seriously think about that. There are more Asians than every other group of humans in the world combined, and our continent is so large half of us don’t live in the same day as the other half. Asia, the continent, extends from Palestine to the Philippines, from Russia to Sri Lanka. We speak over 2000 languages, and there are honestly too many ethnic and identity groups to count. And due to the colonial legacy, modern day imperialism and neo-liberalism, general migration, and a host of other reasons the Asian diaspora has spread to basically every country in the world.

There are a lot of us. And we are everywhere. So it is only fitting that our politics, experiences, and identities reflect that diversity, but unfortunately on tumblr, and pretty much everywhere else, we are collapsed, condensed, and repackaged in easily identifiable and digestible packages. So let’s unpack that package, and really examine what we are talking about when we say “Asian.”

I am going to use myself as an example, because my experiences are the ones most familiar to me. And because specificity is very important in this case.

In terms of racial and ethnic identity, I identify as Asian, Asian-American, Southeast Asian, Burmese, Chinese-Burman, and a Burmese Buddhist. Though it may seem excessive and redundant, I assure you none of these categories overlap entirely, and each has a different set of politics that goes with it.

Let me explain. I identify as Asian because I am of Asian descent, and I live outside of the continent of Asia. I repeat, because I live outside of the continent of Asia. People living in Asia don’t have any reason to call themselves Asian. They generally feel no need or desire to classify themselves based on a category white people randomly assigned them. I had never heard the term Asian before I immigrated to the US. Paradoxically, I didn’t become Asian until I left Asia. Asian people have been conquering and trading with one another in very sophisticated and often devastating ways since before (non-Jewish) Europeans figured out how to bathe themselves. Being Asian, and identifying as Asian are not the same thing.

I’m also Asian-American, because I am Asian and I live in the U-must-be-white-to-live-without-a-hyphenSA. I live in a constant state of “where are you from/your English is so good/how do you say your name again?” I am Asian-American, because I don’t have a choice, but also because I chose to stand in solidarity with other people whom I share these unique experiences with.

I identify additionally as Southeast Asian, because White people and East Asian-Americans like to pretend that people like me do not exist. Like brown skin, wavy hair, fabulous eyebrows, and Asian are mutually exclusive. We are always the other Asians, the not really Asians, the what part of China is (insert your country) in Asians.

I identify as Burmese, because I am an immigrant, my parents are immigrants, and Asian-Americans don’t really get along with one other that well. Remember how I said that Asians have been warring with each other since forever? Yeah, that history doesn’t disappear because they are in a different continent. Our people have done some really messed up stuff to each other in the ancestor lands, and then we came here and continued to do messed up stuff to each other. Like did you know that the majority of the property of Little Tokyo in LA is owned by Chinese-Americans, because they bought it all up when the US government drove Japanese-Americans into concentration camps during WWII? There was, and is still little, solidarity between the various Asian-American groups. It makes sense on one hand. Our struggles are so different. Cambodian-Americans deal with a lot of issues around undocumented status, alcohol abuse is a serious issue with Korean-Americans, and Palestinian-Americans are facing the ongoing genocide of their people while being labeled terrorists for protesting it. We live our lives very differently, and sometimes it feels like the only way to survive is to stick with our own. The people who know us, who look like us, who speak out language, who eat familiar food, who share a familiar image of home.

I am also Chinese-Burman and a Burmese Buddhist, because surprise race and ethnicity are far more complicated than people in the US seem to think it is. So I mention these two together because in Burma race, ethnicity, and religion are very closely tied together. In Burma, it is assumed that Burman=Buddhist, and “Kala” (a general term that used to refer to South Asians, but also sometimes dark skinned Asians in general, but also sometimes Burman and people of other Burmese ethnicities who are Muslims)=Muslim. It is a weird way in which colorism, racism, and Buddhist supremacy intersect. So racially I am Chinese, meaning that my great-grandparents were all immigrants from China, and all their children and grandchildren only married and had children with other Chinese descended people. I have a Chinese name (that I don’t actually use), I celebrate (some) Chinese traditions, and I grew up thinking I am Chinese. But my identity card says I am Burman. I am also darker than pretty much everyone in my family; I have thick eyebrows, and wavy hair. I don’t “look Chinese,” and I don’t automatically get the privileges that come with that in Burma. But I am Buddhist (or at the very least not visually identifiable as a Muslim), and lighter than the average Burman, so I get the privileges attached to that. It’s complicated.

            So just to recap, I just wrote like two pages on my own personal racial identity, and I was being really brief. Being Asian is a really complicated thing in a way that doesn’t necessarily have parallels with other POC. This becomes very obvious whenever Asian or Asian-American issues come up on tumblr or in US based social justice circles. Like Asian privilege is not a real thing in the US, but Japanese privilege is totally a thing in Japan. Asian-American anti-blackness is not the same thing as anti-blackness in Asia. They are real but separate issues, that need separate solutions and conversations. The opinions of Asians in Asia are not relevant to issues of cultural appropriation in the US. Likewise Asians in the US don’t get a free pass to talk about Asia as a whole. Nepalese-Americans have no right to comment on what is happening in Malaysia, only Malaysians-Americans can do that.

TLDR: Asian identities are really complicated, and that translates to social justice issues in a very complicated way. We need to listen to each other, and work in solidarity with each other. And most of all, we need non-Asian POC to let us hash out these conversations without derailing and interjecting into them. 

Intent over Impact. Responsibility over abdication. Growth over fragility.

[alt text on images]

“I only wonder if unbiased technologies were available to us then, could they have enabled an alternative story? If images produced by Western culture represented a wider variety of black and brown identities, images in stock agencies that showed black women in professional settings, or just carefree girls, jumping rope, swimming, camping, with all shades of light highlighting how light changes on our skin, that together we’d reach some accord, some comfortable vernacular about the diversity of beauty and humanness. I wonder if the technologies available to us in those days would have taught me early how to love the richness of my brown skin.”

I’ve been following Gazi Kodzo’s conversations on periscope and somehow that got me thinking on something that I refer to as black male exceptionalism–where a lot of black men, once they’ve reached a certain status in the black community or have a large following of black people, can do no wrong.

It’s something that’s happened with several black male celebrities–Bill Cosby being the most apparent example where tens of women came forward accusing him of rape, sexual assault and what have you for more than two decades–and multitudes of black people readily came to his defense. Black celebrities such as Whoopi Goldberg openly defended him, Raven Simone refused to comment on the subject altogether, Felicia Rashad (I love her to death, but she failed me here) also defended him–not to mention the scores of people, famous and working class alike, defending him tooth and nail on social media.

It has me feeling some type of way that our black “role models” don’t come under fire for the scrutiny they often deserve.

While I call it black male exceptionalism, I can easily rationalize it as an intersection of multiple societal oppressions: the patriarchal overtones mixed with racism, sexism, colorism, and rape-culture intersecting to create this perfect storm that allows the wrongs done against black women to go completely unanswered when prestigious, wealthy and well-known black men commit them.

I feel like we need to address this.

“Calling a Black woman ‘difficult’ in Hollywood is the kiss of death, and its hard enough being a dark-skinned Black woman in this business.” - Janet Hubert

After several decades of being blacklisted for demanding higher pay and speaking up about poor treatment in the workplace, Janet Hubert gets acknowledgment and closure in a one-on-one discussion for TV.

It isn’t enough, not just for Janet but all the Moniques, Serena Williamses, and Meghan Markles in the world. We don’t have to compromise on our value.  

Black women and femmes aren’t “difficult” for setting boundaries, knowing our worth, and refusing to comply with abuse. Choosing self-love by rejecting biases that expect us to settle for poor treatment is courageous, vulnerable, powerful, and disempowering to the social norms that deny us. This act is perceived or portrayed as “difficult” to people who perpetuate those norms when they can no longer take advantage of them… and us.

If you genuinely care about the lives of Black women and femmes, you must do more than lip-service. You have to support our human autonomy–then get out of our way.

Glad hollywood is sort of breaking out of the cycle of hiring the same three lightskinned biracial actors to play dark skinned monoracial characters.

Yesterday, while I was in a South Asian-style food market, I came across a small shelf that was selling skin-whitening creams. The boxes said things like “improve your career” and similar, in the sense that you’re more likely to be hired and promoted if you are of fair complexion.This is marketing meant for South Asia, where Colorism is a part of job culture. Used to be the same here! Black folks would buy products in an effort to bleach their skin. But these days, in the United States, saying something like “I’d promote you if you were paler” out loud would get you a hearty “fuck you” from the whole room, and maybe a discrimination lawsuit.

So it was odd, and a little disappointing, to see such products sold here.But then I thought – I have been told I am quite pale. What happens if I put some of this stuff on? Does it make my skin bone-white? Is there nothing more it can do to me? Or is this stuff complete hogwash that does nothing? Surely it must to SOMETHING, it’s an entire industry! But then, so was patent medicine.

And if it DOES do something…what the hell is in this stuff? I get the feeling that it’s not entirely safe.

By Alfe Azad 

A common refrain I have heard throughout my childhood from the many women in my life, my mother, aunts, older female cousins, was for me to ‘stay indoors’ since I was ‘already too dark’.  When my mother was born she was the pride and joy of my grandfather because the doctors told him that they had never seen an infant as pink as my mother. My father chose to marry my mother because, as darker pigmented man himself, he wanted to give his future children a head start by marrying someone fair-skinned.

 Throughout my primary schooling my family was lucky enough to travel to Bangladesh every summer, it was during these trips my mother would stock up on a skin lightening cream called “Fair and Lovely” for both her and myself. Whenever I would find myself at family gatherings or other social outings with fellow South Asian women, it would never be too long before the conversation turned to beauty and women began complimenting the fair skin of one another and offering helpful information to those afflicted with darker skin. In searching for potential brides for my male cousins, fair skin, not the bride’s accomplishments or sense of character, was prioritized. Simply put, fair skin was good and dark hued skin was something you had to constantly make-up for and attempt to change. Retrospectively assessing these instances it becomes clear that the opinions of the people in my family and families across South Asia are informed by a deep-rooted history with colorism.

South Asia (India, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Bhutan, Nepal, Sri Lanka) has developed their issue with colorism over a long period of time, starting with the invasion of the light-skinned Aryans and concluding with the reign of the British Raj. The traumatic rippling affects of these historical occurrences are still felt today through the internalized oppression of the indigenous population that these invasions descended upon. Having to witness social and political power be given to outside forces whose physical bodysuit was so vastly different from the native population it ruled over only naturally leads to self-questioning and desire to emulate those in power.

To this day South Asians hold the belief that fairness is equated with more positive attributes i.e., intelligence, more attractive, wealthier, etc., and this attitude is reflected in the pervasive popular culture of South Asia. Bollywood being such a massive industry and having so much influential pull over the South Asian population, continues to perpetuate the idea of fairness being preferable by continuously celebrating and casting fair skinned actresses. Furthermore, the idea that fairness is the preferred shade is evidenced by the vast amount of skin lightening products that exist for both men and women and are touted and affirmed by their association within the Bollywood culture. South Asian people, and women more so, are inundated with images of fairness and the belief that a lack of melanin is somehow associated with success. South Asians have seen power given to light skinned individuals for centuries, and today that power continues to manifest itself in the higher echelons of South Asian culture, where, more often than not, people in positions of power continue to be fair skinned. It is high time we recognize and value our people beyond the shade of their skin. South Asians as a community are vibrant and brilliant regardless of the hue of our skin. My intelligence, sass, and creativity doesn’t stem from my lack of melanin, rather it has flourished in the responses to it.

As I’ve grown into my own and have been equipped with the specific language and education surrounding the history of oppression of people of color and the evolution of the feminist movement, I have come to understand the importance of my racial and cultural heritage. It has come to the forefront of my consciousness and, along with the lens of feminism, has done much to shape how I perceive my own experiences and the experiences of others around me, by recognizing that my place in the world starts with affirming that I am a woman of color. I make the distinction to say woman of color, and not woman and person of color, because too often I feel these two labels become disjointed and it is imperative to recognize that women of color are recognized otherwise we are inevitably perpetuating the erasure of women of color (hereafter known as WoC) altogether. It is through this lens that I am able to acknowledge the daily microagressions and societal challenges faced by WoC, whether from individual or systemic forces. Colorism has been continuously documented as a common problem amongst nations that have gone through extensive periods of European colonization, including the Indian subcontinent from which I am a proud product of.

[photo source: www.popfn.com]

Alfe Azad is a 28 year old grad of NYU Steinhardt’s Educational Theatre program. At NYU she focused on her interest in Theatre of the Oppressed and the intersection of arts and social justice. Her work culminated in a literature review thesis on the issue of colorism within women in the South Asian community. In addition to her post-graduate degree from NYU, she received her BA in Theatre and English literature at California State University Northridge. Alfe is currently a Teaching Artist in the city with three different organizations, Opening Act, The Leadership Program, and Wingspan Arts. She is originally from New York but has lived, studied, and worked in Los Angeles for the past 13 years. She is also a practicing actor, credits include Dunyazade in Arabian Nights and Peaseblossom in A Midsummer’s Night Dream. Alfe also works in technical theatre, most recently helping design costumes for NYC’s The Secret Theatre’s production of Through the Glade. Find her on Twitter @alfeazad​ 

The day the X-Men movies have Storm being played by a dark skinned actress and not a light skinned racially ambiguous looking actress is gonna be a cold day in hell.

They’d probably darken a light skinned actress’ skin a lá Zoe Saldana playing Nina Simone, before ever letting a dark skinned actress touch storm.

loki-zen:

isaacsapphire:

theconcealedweapon:

I checked; this was posted earlier this month. If this was posted five years ago, I could forgive it. As it is, it’s gaslighting nonsense heading towards proto-genocide.

Please note the picture of the tweeter; this is someone who benefits from both colorism within the Black community, and diversity quotas.

Be fair, hon - do you know that this person specifically benefits from diversity quotas? As in does she have a job she got that way or something? I think you’d agree with me that it’s at best unclear how random [ethnicity] people who didn’t personally benefit from a diversity quota benefit from their existence.

Sure as heck looks like that’s her whole businessmodel.

onlyblackgirl:

30 Light skin Privileges Light Skin Blacks Have

1. Having the ability to deny or not acknowledge that colorism exists.
2. Be recognized as a symbol of post racism.
3. It is assumed that you are race neutral when issues of race are raised.
4. Being standard of beauty in the Black and Latino community.
5. Being called Black based on the antebellum era one drop rule.
6. Being racially ambiguous.
7. People automatically assuming you are mixed and it is seen as a positive attribute.
8. It is automatically assumed that you are more intelligent than the darker members of your racial group.
9. Not being seen as angry unlike the darker members of your racial group.
10. Being considered less threatening by the Eurocentric mainstream based on the color of your skin.
11. People not making the assumption that you grew up poor unlike your dark skin counterparts.
12. Being allowed to recognize the variety of your racial/ethnic heritage without ridicule.
13. Within African American culture being called a “redbone” is regarded as a compliment while being called “darkskin” is considered derogatory.
14. Having someone tell you that your light skin is better than dark skin.
15. Can color, dye, relax, or weave your hair without it being seen as an act of self-hate.
16. The assumption that your relaxed hair and chemically processed curls are your natural texture.
17. Not being told that, “You are pretty for a dark skin girl.”
18. Your skin color being valued by some who purposely wants to erase their ethnicity and hates their own skin color.
19. Taking advantage of skin color privilege depending upon the situation. For example, applying for scholarships for African Americans and Latinos and later passing for other than a minority.
20. You have a better chance of landing a job than a darker person with the same credentials.
21. You have better opportunities for education and jobs prospects.
22. Because of your light skin your relatives may of have had access to Black sororities, fraternities, and other organizations that promoted intraracism.
23. Your images are reflected in all forms of the Black and Latino owned media.
24. People who look like you rarely portray the stereotypical maid, downtrodden, Sapphire, and dysfunctional Black women roles on television.
25. You always play the Black and Latino wife on television.
26. Being able to be biracial, multiracial, or light skin and still play a Black, Asian, Latino and White person on television when people of a darker hue cannot.
27. Not having people in entertainment making songs or comments disrespecting your skin color.
28. If you are light skin Latino you don’t have to prove it.
29. If you are a light skin Latino it is automatically assumed that you speak Spanish.
30. You or your family have much more likely have immigrated to America leaving your darker skin counterparts behind.

Brown Paper Bag Test

J. Cole: I Might Not Be as Successful If I Had Dark Skin

us light skinned redbones look way better than them dark skinned girls

Study Claims People Remember Educated Black Men As Lighter-Skinned

“You’re Pretty for a Dark-Skinned Girl”: The Continuing Significance of Skin Tone in “the Black Community”

We are all Black but you as a light skin person are benefiting from light skin privilege.

CNN’s Don Lemon: “Anchors of Color on Television Are Light-Skinned”

AfricaSpeaks.com – Dialogue on Colorism - Part 1

I can keep going…

embraceyourmelanin:

Women with dark skin: this is what colorism is and how it harms us please stop participating in it

The rest of the community:… Stop trying to divide us lol

Me, a Light: this is what colorism is and how it harms people with dark skin please stop participating in it

The rest of the community: damn okay maybe you right