Often as Black women we are made to feel smaller, unworthy, or ashamed of our bodies and self-conscious about the way we show up in the world. People love to steal our ideas, brilliance and shine but to all the negativity and hate out there, I say – you can try to imitate but you cannot replicate. Though society tries to sell the image that anything associated with Black bodies is “ghetto” or “unprofessional”, Black people are the originators of cool, trend-setting and avant-garde fashion – even when we are not credited for our inventions.
Authentic confidence comes from within and showing up as your beautiful Black self is the highest definition of beauty, class and style. We have every right to rock bold lipsticks, wear tighter fit clothing (without being inherently sexualized), experiment with different patterns and textures and live our best lives – OUTLOUD.
Read MoreLast week, I had to explain to my mom that I do not date because I am invisible.
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When I think about her shows, I become especially concerned at the stereotypes that Black women are put into. In the media, Black women are often typecast into specific roles, and unfortunately, Shonda Rhimes’ shows are no exception.
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I want to dare you to think not only about the Black women in need of a safe space, but the Black children exploring for one too.
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Colorism isn’t a new topic nor a new issue within the Black Community. Colorism is truly an international problem as lighter skin is almost universally valued among all racial groups. It is, simply defined by Alice Walker, the “prejudicial or preferential treatment of same-race people based solely on their color.”
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Yall, in case you missed it our girl is finally out from under the gorilla glue helmet thanks to Dr. Michael Obeng who did the pro bono surgery to help her out. If you have been living under a rock, Tessica Brown took to TikTok not talk about the cuteness of her hairstyle and how she achieved the look, perso, but was instead talking about her style, laid to the gawds was a product of gorilla glue and had been her style (of not her choice) for well over a month!
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As living alone during the pandemic continues, reading has become almost impossible because my mind is filled with so much noise--years of buried trauma, guilt, and shame working its way upward.
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“Mommy, I want a blonde braid so I can be pretty” my daughter said. “You want a what?” I said with a slight cringe in my voice. “A braid like Elsa” she replied. This statement took me off guard and immediately led to me having a conversation with my then 5 year old.
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Are there places (outside of Africa) where black women are respected and seen as beautiful?
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Years ago, I knew myself. When I was a child, I felt solid and still. I felt like me. I didn’t care about facades or about wearing the kind of mask Paul Laurence Dunbar wrote about in his poem “We Wear The Mask”. In his poem, he wrote about the mask our ancestors wore to survive, assimilate, and cope with being members of the marginalized race. As I grew in age, I ironically regressed in wisdom and adopted a persona akin to the mask Paul Laurence Dunbar wrote about in his poem. Hints of this mask appeared in my life in many ways; among them, my physical appearance.
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“Mommy, why can’t my hair be down and straight like yours?” With a sad face, those were the piercing words that one of my three-year-old twin daughters asked me, as her sister gazed at me for an honest reply.
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Beyonce’s much anticipated visual album was released for streaming on Disney+ on July 31, 2020. (Isn’t everything Beyonce does “much anticipated”?) Anyway, as usual I was late to the party and finally sat down to watch it this weekend.
Read MoreDo you have a friend that’s always acting like a “white girl?” She’s the one that shows up at mimosa Sunday wearing cowboy boots instead of stilettos.
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“So, how are you going to wear your hair to your interview?”
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A memory that haunts me at night, is from my middle school days in English. I was in eighth grade and at this time of my life my hair was done by my mom and my attire was a school board mandated uniform. On this particular day, we were watching a movie in English. My teacher did the spill about how this movie tied into our lesson. An interesting fact about this class is that my English teachers gave us assigned seats. So, sometimes I was lucky enough to be sat by my friends or assigned by someone she thought I would not talk to. After she gave us the spill, she went to the back of the room to turn out the lights. A boy in my class turned to another boy and said, “where did Brooklyn go?” This was a joke that was used often in school.
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Wearing “the natural” back in 2001 before it became trendy, proved to be a surprisingly emotional journey. What made it emotional? The fact that I got the most negative reactions from my own...other black women.
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In a southern small town far far away... lived a little black girl who “wasn’t like other black people.” For as long as I can remember white people and black people alike have been telling me that I am “not like other black people.”
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Consider This: “You young people are asking the wrong question...You have the wrong audience...You’re asking people who hate you ‘are you pretty?’”
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One afternoon while watching Disney’s CoCo for the umpteenth time, myself laying on the couch as my daughter and granddaughter are laying on the floor in front of me (46yo)- my granddaughter, 5 years old, popped up and said, “Noni, are you a Black girl?”
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