I’ve always been a bit color-blind. Not in the mismatched socks kinda way, but certainly when it comes to choosing the people to love. With me, when it comes to loving and liking, color, gender and the depth of pockets (but, you must have pockets!) matter not; what steers me in anyone’s direction is not the organ than throbs in the pants, but the one that beats under the shirt (or top 😉 ). So, I admit to being a tad flabbergasted at the way some in our culture now chase (as they used to chase the money) and seem to redefine the “opposite sex” to include the opposite in culture – simply to have one of the newest accessories – a ‘mixed’ baby’.
Before some of you go off all half-cocked, I am absofuckinglutely not speaking of those that legitimately fall in love and procreate with someone of a differing culture, thus reproducing one of those little darlings with the “good” hair and the pretty eyes. No, yall are good. Like I stated, I too am color-blind, so the chances could have been quite good that I could have had one of those little chubby honeys to hold up and show off as if I won something. No, this here post is laser-directed at those in our culture who openly and ignorantly think and say out loud that, “mixed babies are cuter” than those of the darker, nappier-headed, dark-eyed set. Ridiculous!
Listen, I am certainly not one to see the “white man’s conspiracy” theory around every corner; I am way too focused on my own life, goals and plans to sometimes even acknowledge any racist’s issues. But in this, I have to shake my head in sadness wondering when it was that we allowed anyone that much control to convince us to seek to dilute our heritage. Our beauty. When did we become so very dissatisfied with who we are, what we look like and the beauty in the history of our noses, eyes, mouth, cheekbones and hair that we purposefully seek out to snare someone to help us eradicate our heritage? Lord have mercy! Do we even believe in the shit we shout when we conveniently parrot, “Black lives matter!”? Or, are we simply comfortable with the sound bite to then slink off to mount the member that truly reflects just what we think of ourselves?
Again, I am not racist. I love whom I love and will lay down with the person whose being speaks to mine. Period. But I stand proudly in the knowledge that my only agenda in that instance is love; not even lust and certainly not in an attempt to get a softer, supposedly cuter, more diluted version of myself. For me, the nappier the head of hair is the better! The more chocolate the skin, the richer! The fuller the lips… shit! I am truly disturbed by the reality that so many believe they have achieved something if they are able to bring to this world one of those coveted ‘mixed babies’ as if birthing one somehow elevates their stock value! Oh, and while some of us chase the multi-colored rainbow, the white celebrities are out scooping up all forgotten and discarded nappy-headed little darlings. Sigh.
I wonder what exactly is at the root of our dissatisfaction with and in ourselves? Is it as some believe that because we have been so beaten down and degraded by the “White devils” we have lost our sense of pride, dignity and belief in ourselves and thus have elected to find a way to better assimilate? Have we somehow fallen into some sort of tacit collusion where we have determined the less our offspring look like us, the better their chances? Does this tie into our prior dissatisfaction in the way we view ourselves that have forced (some of) us to seek to hide away our nappy roots and replace it with the cast-off from another culture? To seek to fool others by lightening our eye color and heaven-forbid, our skin? Is this desire for the babies with the “good hair” and lighter eyes our way of trying to totally fool others into thinking the hair we wear and the eyes we sport are indeed ours?
There is something called the “One drop rule” – it is prevalent and it is legal. For all who seek to raise their stock value by attempting to mask their heredity through their children, I suggest you educate yourselves. You see the thing is, if your desire is to try to “fit in” better on the lighter side of things, remember that a true racist will sniff out that drop of black blood that your child has and discard them as easily and as swiftly as they will my nappy-headed beauty of a child. Stop. When will we realize that the more we attempt to look like them, the more we move away from our heritage and attempt to adopt theirs, is the more credibility we are giving to their perception of us. The more dissatisfied we get, is the more satisfied they do.
Give me the few. The proud. The nappy…