One of my friends is doing a project on class, race, and
body image, and asked me to share my thoughts. I figured that this is as good a
place as any to do so. For the
most part, these are personal opinions and experiences. I do also mention
societal and cultural norms, stereotypes, and tropes, but this is still very
much told from my point of view.
Obviously there are a variety of truths and stories related to this
subject. I can only speak from the
view-point of a person at a certain socio-economic level, or as a member of a
certain race, or as a person with my particular body. I don’t claim to speak
for any groups.
Class (and its intersection with Race and Body Image):
I don't have any particular feelings about class, which is a
privilege. I am by no means rich--my family is pretty solidly middle-class--and
my EFC for school is actually pretty low. My parents have raised me to be
grateful, and maybe it doesn't work all the time, but I'd like to think that I
appreciate what I have.
I live in a town with a decent education system (it's not
everything I'd like it to be, but it could be so much worse, and I try to
remember that as much as I can), and both of my parents are college educated.
This doesn't always mesh with the stereotypes people have in their head when
they think of Black Americans.
This is definitely due to who raised me/where I raised. Sometimes,
though, it feels like there is something wrong with me because I don't fit
those stereotypes--including the reality that there is a large portion of the
Black population that lives below the poverty line.
Most of my clothes are hand-me-downs from family friends,
things bought at a second-hand store, or things that I have splurged and bought
for myself. In the end, I have a
lot of clothes--especially shirts--that come from a wide variety of places.
Ultimately, though, shopping sprees and mall trips have never had a very big
place in my life (if I go to the mall its usually to buy things for other
people). I enjoy dressing up to a certain extent, but it’s never been something
I give much thought to, so clothing and make-up have never really been things
I've expended much money on.
Race (and--to an extent--its intersection with Body
Image):
Race is actually something I don't consciously think about very
often. For a wide range of
reasons, race has always been a subject that I have a lot of complicated and
sensitive feelings about. As I mentioned above, I don't fit into
stereotypically "black" communities or traits. The stereotype I come closest to is
"Angry Black Woman".
I am very skinny, so my body type doesn't fit into the
curvier image most people have of black women. I've never felt like I could
pull off (if I ever felt inclined to) the "Sassy Black Woman",
because I just don't look like one. And its really a terrible stereotype, but
there's something satisfying about watching Miranda Bailey rip interns a new
one in Grey's Anatomy, that I wish I could do it too.
I am exceptionally nerdy, particularly about reading and
literature--though I'm also rather fond of sci-fi/fantasy shows as mentioned
previously. I'd pay you a hefty sum of money to find a bookworm-ish, skinny,
black girl obsessed with Harry Potter
(or anything vaguely "nerdy") in a movie, TV show, etc. I’ll throw in
an extra few bucks if she’s a feminist and wears her hair naturally. Obviously, the media isn’t perfect at
providing a spectrum of people for the audience to be able to identify with,
but it would be significantly easier to find a character that fits the above
description as long as the word “black” is removed. It is extremely frustrating
when my “blackness” hinges on me fitting a certain set of stereotypes. My
nerdiness does not detract from my blackness
Body Image (and Race):
I’ve never been one to be particularly fussed about my
appearance. There have been phases of my life where I’ve had lower self-esteem,
but for the most part, I’m comfortable in my skin. That being said, for me, body image is tied intrinsically to
race. Even if it doesn’t typically
have a negative effect on me, I am acutely aware that most of the images of
“beautiful” I see are tall, white, skinny; typically with long, straight, and
(frequently) blonde hair. (The word “beautiful” is in quotations because I’m
talking about a beauty standard, or ideal, I don’t mean to imply the group of
people I’m talking about aren’t
beautiful--not that it should matter.) If there is a depiction of a “beautiful” black woman, then she
is tall, and curvy (but not too
curvy), with long, straight hair.
That the beauty standard in this country is essentially
white has a pronounced effect on body image with Black America, most noticeably
when it come to hair. Obviously,
people change their hairstyle for a variety of reasons that may or may not have
any relation to race. This doesn’t erase the fact that there seems to be a
rather pervasive idea throughout this country about what “good hair” is. In the simplest terms: “good hair” is
straight. Black women who wear
their hair naturally are often criticized about their hair being “too nappy”,
or unprofessional, or what have you. Alternatively, people become endlessly
fascinated by a hair texture they have little to no exposure to and decide that
they suddenly have the right to invade a person’s space and touch it--whether
they know the person or not. And
if you wear your hair in dreads? Good luck convincing people you aren’t a dirty
hippy of a pot-smoking Rastafarian.
Aside from hair, a lot of self-esteem and body issues among
people of color in general have to do with, well, color. Colorism is a term used to describe the prejudicial treatment of a person based
on how dark/light their skin tone is.
From a “beauty” standpoint, the lighter you are, the better. Even within
different racial groups this remains true. Taken to the extreme, this can lead
some people to want to bleach their skin, or avoid prolonged time spent in the
sun. Some families may push their
children to marry someone lighter in order to have lighter children, while others
discourage their children from marrying people who are darker, for the same
reason. Colorism is a complex
issue, the effects of which can be seen in many different areas within
different racial communities, but I’m going to end this here, for now.
Further Information:
- I wrote a paper a few years ago about colorism, which can be found here.
- The Color Complex by Kathy Russell, Midge Wilson, and Ronald Hall
- Good Hair, a documentary by Chris Rock
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