When I was no more than eleven years old, my older sister declared to me that she wouldn’t correct people who assumed she was a monoracial Native American. She told me “nobody wants to be Black.” My sister, four years my senior, is lighter than me with “passable” features and, until recently, religiously relaxed hair- she has a choice which is not afforded to me. I & the shape of my nose, my unrelentingly curled hair which wouldn’t respond to chemical straightening, we’ve never been distanced from Blackness enough to even consider identifying outside of it. My passing sister was, honestly, the perpetuator of the bulk of my early experiences with anti-Blackness.
Magic of White Eyeliner: A Brighter Gaze Awaits
In the ever-evolving world of beauty, certain trends come and go, but some gems remain timeless due to their sheer versatility and impact. Among…