Colourism and Good Hair
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Colourism is the idea that light skin is better than dark skin, according to Alice Walker, an African American writer. In her book In Search of Our Mothers Gardens: Womanist Prose she writes that “Colorism is a global phenomenon, which affects all people of color, however, in the black diaspora because of the legacy of slavery and colonialism it affects black people more often” (Walker 290 1983). Good hair is the notion that hair, which resembles White, Indian, or any type of hair that is not African descended hair is better.
The idea is that white features- be it the color of our skin or the texture of our hair- are highly regarded standards of beauty around the world, but they are also hugely prevalent in the Caribbean. And as a young Caribbean woman, I have a responsibility to myself and other women to start questioning that belief. Since I was a young girl, I’ve always thought of lighter skin and good hair as something to wish for. According to society, I was too dark, and not blessed with good hair, but hard hair as they say in Kweyol Tetsec wed. Eventually, as I grew older, I began to take a critical look at this notion from an academic standpoint. The turning point for me was a class project, I and another classmate were putting together a collage of Hindu Goddesses, but as we came across each picture, I realized something. Every single one of the photos was of light-skinned goddesses with straight hair. And despite searching at the time of the project I could not find one image of a darker-skinned Hindu goddess.
Still, I’ve made other realizations about this time and project, specifically about myself and my fellow student. My partner was a beautiful Muslim woman, and I realized I was jealous of her. Why? Because even though I had never seen her hair under her hijab, I was sure that she must have good hair, not hard hair like I had been cursed with, but the good hair that everyone coveted. And to add salt to the wound, she was also light-skinned as well, she had two things that I could not have, was not born with. I used to spend time thinking about how soft, long, and most importantly straight her hair must be. She had what I had always wanted until finally, something occurred to me. Although she was physically very white in my opinion, she had suffered racism just like me, and on top of that islamophobia too. Still, even with that realization, I wanted her hair, her “white” hair” even as the class ended and I returned home.
Startlingly, when I returned home, I saw many women wearing their natural hair, despite the fact that I had received a lot of negative comments about wearing my own hair naturally, and I knew we still had a problem. I realized that although we in the Caribbean are starting to embrace our natural hair, we still have a racial hierarchy that still determines the value of our citizens. Meaning the lighter the skin, the better your advantages are in life. Because of this here in St. Lucia for example we have yet to elect a darker-skinned person as Prime Minister that has stayed in office long. Those dark-skinned Prime Ministers have either been Prime Minister by default or only ran the country for a year or less.This to me is a tragedy as skin color does not automatically make you a qualified leader, but I cannot lay all this at the feet of modern-day Caribbean people. We must look back at our history of slavery and colonialism, which helped push these racist standards forward. Slavery ended in St. Lucia and on other former British colonies in 1834, but left in place, and continued, this racial hierarchy.
In the article, “Plantation Life” published on the website, Visions of St. Lucia Margot Thomas explains that on the plantation, the slave master was the most important person, and other whites were placed in positions of power, such as overseers. The coloreds, or the mulattoes, who were children of the enslaved and their white masters, were often personal or house slaves and were considered the most prestigious. However, they could still be demoted to the position of field slave (Thomas 2020). Wilson Russel states in, The Color Complex that, because the mulattoes were children of the plantation owners they had more privileges. Some even had legal status, owned land, and an education (Russel 3 2013).
Hence, in many ways, these privileges are still alive and well in St. Lucia, the Caribbean, and the world today. The racial hierarchy still exists: the lighter-skinned Black person or the biracial or the mulatto can aspire to be Prime Minister, while the darkest among us shouldn’t even dream of having a chance. Lighter skin, although it is not as outright as it was before, is still preferred.
However, I am glad to see that the concept of good and bad hair is finally dying out as I continue to see more women around St. Lucia and all over the world embrace their natural hair. I no longer feel jealous of my Muslim friend and I am starting to love myself as I am. As a beautiful young Caribbean woman, I want to say that I love my hair in all its kinks and coils. I also want to say to Black women, especially Black Caribbean women, that our hair is just as good and beautiful as any other ethnicity. Black people should not be jealous of white people or our lighter-skinned brothers and sisters. Our skin is gorgeous; it is smooth, silky, and beautiful like cocoa, dark or light. Remember everyone loves cocoa, and everyone wants to be us no matter how they try to steal our shine. We are beautiful, and I hope one day soon the concept of colorism and good hair will be gone.
References
Russel, Wilson Ph.D., Hall, Kathy, Midge, Ronald (2013). The Color Complex: The Politics of Skin Color in a New Millennium. Penguin Random House. p. 3
Thomas, Margot (May 2020) Plantation Life: Visions Official Tourist Guide St.Lucia Caribbean .http://www.slucia.com/visions/plantation.html
Walker , Alice (1983). In Search of Our Mothers' Gardens: Womanist Prose. A Harvest Book, Harcourt Inc. p. 290.