A Word From a “Privileged” Slave

Hapa Mag - AUGUST 26, 2020

By Meagan Kimberly Smith

CONTENT WARNING: THIS ARTICLE INCLUDES A RACIAL SLUR

“Light nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga

Rich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga

Still nigga, still nigga”

In the song “OJ,” Jay Z says, “No matter what kind of Black you are, in the end you’re still nigga.” As much as we love to bob our heads to this song in Black pride and solidarity, we know that all Blacks are not created equal. So, just when we thought racism couldn’t get any worse, we are reminded of its nasty little uncle: colorism. Colorism is a mean son of gun whose only interest is penetrating people of color with its perpetuation of white supremacy. Colorism, also known as shadeism, is defined as discrimination due to skin tone. Shadeism is a very real issue that isolates and divides communities. It especially causes tension and resentment between dark skin and light skin Black people. Colorism brilliantly pushes white America’s agenda forward, causing people of color to forget the fight for equality, and forcing them to fixate on the question: Who has it worse, the house niggas or the field niggas?

To most, it’s a fact that dark skinned Black people are disproportionately oppressed, but light skinned Blacks experience oppression too, right? Of course they do! ALL people of color experience oppression. But if ALL people of color experience oppression then why does colorism cause tension? I believe it is due to the difference in the kind of oppression dark skin people face. Such as being seen as unattractive, dirty, and unworthy due to their darker hues. There are many statistics that show how brutally colorism affects the highly melanated. We know that women with light skin serve 11% less time in prison than darker women. Light skinned Black males with bachelor’s degrees and typical work experience are preferred over dark skinned Black males with an MBA. Dark skinned defendants are more likely to be convicted and receive the death penalty.  “The Relationship Between Skin Tone and School Suspension for African Americans,” A study published in 2013 found that, among the students sampled, African American girls with the darkest skin tones were three times more likely to be suspended from school than African American girls with the lightest skin tones. As if being a person of color isn’t hard enough, those with darker skin are getting the scraps of the scraps. For those with dark skin, colorism is playing a role in the opportunities they receive, the jobs they get, the way they are prosecuted, the way children are treated, and whether or not they are seen as attractive or worthy of speaking to. Teachers are taught to know the signs of a child suffering from colorism. Some of those signs are depression, alienation, bullying, harassment, low self-esteem and a negative body image. It’s no wonder dark skin people and children are triggered by the “better” treatment of their lighter skinned brothers and sisters.

It’s been my observation that dark skinned people are looking for lighter skinned people to acknowledge their light skin privilege. Now, here is where things get tricky. Usually when discussing privilege we are referring to white people. But can light skinned people of color experience privilege? And IF they do experience said privilege, does that mean colorism doesn’t apply to them? Or IF colorism does apply to light skinned people, are we saying that dark skinned people have it worse? And if so, is it ever fair to compare struggles among the oppressed?

Before combusting from an overload of questions, let’s refer back to slavery for guidance. There were two kinds of slaves: house and field. The house slave lived under the roof of the slave master. Usually light skinned, they wore hand-me-downs, ate the scraps of the master, cooked, cleaned, took care of the children and potentially would learn to read and write. The field slaves lived in shacks with dirt floors, minimal to no furniture, ate food that was barely suitable for animals, were refused any education, worked from sun up to sun down while trying to endure constant beatings and abuse from “Massuh,” and would almost certainly be dark skinned. When hearing the realities of both slaves, it’s impossible not to acknowledge the obvious privileges a house slave received. At the same time, does it not leave a bad taste in your mouth to have “slave” and “privilege” in the same sentence? Referring to any slave as privileged feels so wrong that it leads us to deny the privilege exists at all. Like most harsh realities, this one is complex, but true. House slaves did indeed experience privileges that field slaves did not. This privilege was so real that it even caused the field slaves to refer to the house slaves as above them, therefore showing the trickle down effect of colorism and internalized racism.

So, as we attempt to grapple with the reality of light skinned slaves experiencing privilege, we must take a look at the whole truth! Most of the house slaves were lighter skinned because they were a product of rape. “Massuh” found himself taken with a female field slave and 9 months later we have ourselves a future “privileged” house slave, aka a mixed-race slave. They got benefits that the field slaves did not because house slaves, as a result of rape, were often offspring and family members of these slave owners. They absolutely experienced privilege, but at what cost? Knowing that they are the result of rape? Getting benefits within the house but also being constantly reminded that they are beneath the monoracial whites? And of course we cannot leave out the guilt that comes with the privilege. How comfortable can one be as their mother still works in the field? For the female house slaves, how comfortable can she be when she herself is constantly raped due to the easy access of living under the same roof as “Massuh?” How comfortable can she be when “Massuh’s” wife hates her and beats her, knowing that her existence is a reminder of her husband’s adultery? If we are going to acknowledge a light skinned nigga’s privilege we should also recognize the psychological torment. To be made to feel that you should be grateful for your privilege but to know that you are still experiencing a fraction of what you deserve. To be fetishized and objectified and to have your own people assume that you are stuck-up and haughty. To feel neither good enough for white America nor colored enough to be claimed by the Black embrace. It is my understanding that mixed-race people are deeply affected by colorism but in a very different way than dark skinned people. It is an emotional turmoil that should not be mocked or ignored.

So, “What color am I?” you may find yourself wondering. I’m somewhere between Rashida Jones and Mariah Carey Black, aka mixed. As I admit to you my own color, or lack thereof, I immediately find myself wondering whether or not you deem me worthy of writing a piece about colorism. And if you don’t think I should be writing this piece, I assure you I’ve wondered the same thing. And if you’re still reading, I thank you for continuing to consider my perspective. I’m half Black and proud of it, but my fair skin is undeniable, and so is my privilege. My biggest lot in life was that I (unlike my dark skin brothers and sisters) had choices. I wasn’t defined by my race in the way that dark skinned Black folks are. People didn’t look at me and assume I was uneducated, or poor, or promiscuous in the way that they assume the worst of most darker skinned people. Unlike my Black mother, I had a clean slate, and THAT is a privilege dark skin people do NOT receive. As a lighter skinned daughter of a Black woman I know my privilege well. I have seen the world through my mother’s eyes and my own. I’m reminded of it every time a man hits on me and ignores my equally beautiful dark skin friends, every time I’m the only person of color in the room, and every time my mother comments on my beauty and denies herself the same recognition. It’s frightening how much we have deemed “Black excellence” to be mixed or light skinned people. Essentially, the less melanin you have the better.

As I behold colorism’s destruction to the Black community, the phrase “pick your poison” comes to mind. Light nigga or dark nigga, house nigga or field nigga… still nigga. Pick your poison. But of course, none of us has the luxury of picking our skin tone or where we come from!

The choices I had were saturated in privileges that confused me. I could choose my friends. I worked hard to be accepted by white people. I believed their approval to be of the highest regard. I also worked hard to make the Black kids affirm my Blackness, code-switching at every opportunity! I learned quickly how to use my chameleon techniques to my advantage. It was my greatest trick. But what did it cost me? Only my identity, but identity doesn’t matter in white America. What matters is the “one-drop rule.” Know your place and learn how to make white people comfortable. You spare them white guilt. You tokenize yourself so that they may laugh at you and breathe a sigh of relief that you aren’t so angry like some of them other “scary” Black folks. When I think of how colorism affects me, I think of how it affects my psyche. Colorism is attacking dark skin people in obvious and outrageous ways, but it does negatively affect all people of color. So how do we acknowledge both pains? Is there room for both struggles? Is there another word that we should create to describe lighter skinned discrimination? As I contemplate these enormous questions I find myself going back to the one that haunts me most: How do I reckon with being treated better than my darker skinned Black mother? The one thing I can tell you for sure, is that I hate the privilege I experience at her expense!