Now that the mainstream media hype is waning somewhat:
News flash: I’m about as white (a shade, absence of color) as can be and my hair is red-gone-silver.
I don’t appear black, but often think I know how it feels. I don’t. I can only imagine. Still, I too grieve and feel resentful, angry for my friends that endure discrimination and insufferable prejudice sometimes solely because they aren’t “white.” Sure, that seems easy for me to say – so I say it often.
I pale (forgive the pun) in comparison to my friends with their dark shades, rich, deep skin and hair color. It’s okay, they tease me and I tease them – it’s all about the love. The skin cancers are the result of this girl with no self-worth burning herself in the sun for years, actually trying to look more like runway models I admired. Go ahead, yuk it up. I do – I’m in remission. Back when Twiggy and Katiti Kironde were “America’s Top Models,” I had distinctive curves – definitely not stylish. There wasn’t enough gauze and duct tape to fix that, people. We all have our self-image issues.
Much of my appearance comes from the gene pool I swam from, but that same family also raised me to honor and respect all life. My skin, but for my newer scars, brown spots and freckles, is pale. I never suffered from the on-going subjection to stigmas many of my friends do CONSTANTLY. Let’s try to forget the times we’ve been unappreciated for calling out prejudice; like asking why the person I shop with every week, the same store in our small town had to show I.D. – I was carded only once.
As an adult (rumor has it) I realize my skin is not black. My American life is easier, less fearsome than others basically because of my looks – and then that mouth (another subject entirely).
Y’all gotta see, black (a shade actually) is the presence of all color. Regardless of age, race, creed, color, country of origin or political views (which incidentally are as changeable as the wind – anyone else ever pay attention to politicians during election campaigns and then after they take office?), in that sense we are all black, brown, olive, red, yellow, white and albino.
My point: We must not only stand in solidarity against this cleverly veiled evil, we must learn to move forward together. Until all lives actually do matter everywhere, in every heart,
Black Lives Matter
“My brothers and sisters, I know you’ve heard this before, but stop playing favorites! Do not try to blend the genuine faith of our glorious Lord Jesus, the Anointed One, with your silly pretentiousness.” James 2:1 (The Voice)
Still images courtesy of ABSFreePic
2 responses to “Shades”
A big AMEN to this one. But one note. We can now better relate having lived life as a woman and now living as an “older woman.” I have experienced the prejudices as a woman when I was not allowed to serve in certain roles in the church or when I was paid less than my male counter parts for the exact same work at a big corporation. Or when I was looked down on and treated as dumber than boys in school. Now I feel it when I go into job interviews and they discover I have grey hair and a saggy (chicken) neck. So we have glimpsed the frustration in a small way in our lives.
Forget chicken – in my family tree we grow turkeys! 😀 I hear what you’re saying. I experienced similar discrimination in my work history. Still, our outward appearance now is only scary because people know they’ll catch up with us someday. Don’t give up, Mary. Show ’em what you’re made of.