I’ve written before about the challenges that my daughter is going to face. Challenges unique to Black folk of her particular hue. Those chosen ones, celebrated, pigeon holed, resented and punished for something totally outside of her control.
I’m not comparing her to the multitude of beautiful, young, darker skinned children out there. I’m not trying to say that her blues are deeper or heavier. All I know is, this world wants us to think that who we are is somehow a curse.
There is no right answer when you’re Black. You’re either not enough or too damn much. Too fat, too skinny, too light, too dark, too smart, too dumb, too bougie or too damned ratchet… when you’re Black someone is always headhunting. Always trying to tell you that the person that you are, isn’t the person that you should be.
Thank you Lupita. Thank you for finding peace in a world that would love to cultivate and then feed upon your self hatred.