I believe the term person of colour is another way of saying that white is humanity’s default skin colour, which is an extremely racist thing to say.
White is not the default; it is not the centre of the universe, and as such the whole premise that colour is an attribute that can be attached to anyone who is not white, should fall apart.
I’m olive skinned. I can never imagine living my whole life being defined by the colour of my skin. It’s just too much oppression! I can never really understand how people who face racism on a daily basis can cope with such tremendous pressure. My heart breaks for you!
The heroine of this Illustrated Women Who Can post is a woman whose skin colour was never an identifier, never an identity. Um Mustafa popped up in my head very recently only because I came to realise how racist the Western world was. I also realised it was my responsibility, as a citizen of the world, to spread awareness about the places on our planet earth where terms like people of colour, or black, did not exist.
In America in particular, the term person of colour is thrown around as if it’s the most natural term to describe people with non-white skin tones. Any non-white immigrant, or even a student with a temporary visa, who arrives in the US will immediately be catalogued under this term, even though in their native homeland they were never identified or defined by their skin colour.
Let me share with you this powerful quote by Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, who now lives in America:
“I wasn’t black until I moved to the US.”
In an NPR piece about Adichie, the following words resonate deeply with the point I’m trying to make in this post:
“When the novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie was growing up in Nigeria she was not used to being identified by the color of her skin. That changed when she arrived in the United States for college.”
Likewise, Um Mustafa in my context and where I grew up, was never and will never be black or a person of colour!
Um Mustafa is a strong-willed lady I met around 10 years ago when I first moved out of my parents’ orbit into my own flat.
Um Mustafa came highly recommended by two of my feminist friends. My friends hired Um Mustafa once a week to look after their houses. I needed this kind of support with house chores since I had a demanding corporate job in public relations.
She wore a head cover; we didn’t. She came from a rural background; we were three young women who each lived independently in a country were non of this was the norm. She didn’t judge us. She was supportive and hard working.
Um Mustafa had impeccable work ethic, and having her around was very important, at least to me. She helped me figure out how to live on my own. She helped me with my shopping lists and told me there should always be a tin of tea in the cupboard for me to feel at home.
It offends me that if Um Mustafa were to move to America, her identity would be altered in ways that were very hurtful to the soul. That she would endure oppressions she wasn’t privy to here in the Middle East. It is also very ironic that America refers to itself as the “free world,” and often accuses developing and third world countries of being the homelands of oppression, when someone like Um Mustafa is more free in the Middle Eastern context than she will ever be in America, because of her skin tone!
Not a Person of Colour: When Identity has nothing to do with Skin Colour
Let me just say that before this moment, it never occurred to me that the 4 of us mentioned in this story (Um Mustafa, my two friends, and I) are actually 4 people with drastically varying skin colours that cover the human spectrum.
Up until this moment, skin colour was never even an issue that either one of us ever noticed or discussed. I’m only noticing it now because Twitter has opened up a world of racism to me, one that was offered to me through the accounts of liberal (and conservative) personalities and media.
I have worked with American colleagues in the Mediterranean before, and I don’t think I have ever gotten the full extent of American racism from dealing with them. Some were occasionally condescending towards non-American personnel, but that was nothing compared to the deeply ingrained racism of the American media (including liberal media like the New Yorker and beyond). A media that liked to emphasise skin colour at every turn.
Asmar Ya Asmarani: The Endearing North African & Middle Eastern Term about the Beauty of being ‘Tanned’
There was this one time when I was trying to remind my mother of who Um Mustafa was. That’s when she asked: “Is she the Samra (tanned) woman who used to tidy up your home?”
Samra is the female version of Asmar. And that, my friends, is a term of endearment that carries a positive connotation in the North African and Middle Eastern culture!
Following the music and arts renaissance that was brought about by King Farouq of Egypt (who was later abdicated in the mid 50s), a song that erased the last traces of racism from the last century was born.
In the 50s, 60s, and 70s, a young singer and heart throb by the name Abdel Halim Hafez, performed a song titled, “Asmar Ya Asmarani” (which roughly translates into “Oh, you tanned beloved, my tanned beloved”).
This song was one of many that attached attributes of beauty and attractiveness to darker skin colours, bringing back to the public consciousness memories of old Arabic poetry that hails back to 500 AD about tortured lovers longing for their tanned and nomadic beloveds.
But this wasn’t always the case. Two generations ago, affluent families from the Eastern Mediterranean used to refer to someone with a dark skin as Abed Asmar (tanned slave). Luckily, this became obsolete with my mother’s generation in the most organic of ways. There was no civil rights movement, or anything like that, to abolish the term. I believe it was the natural result of empathy, with the help of Arabic songs that flourished in the Egyptian renaissance.
This being said, I think this piece of history should be made available to Americans who have their history with slavery as the only point of view. The West in general needs to open itself up to other cultures to be able to embrace perspectives that can liberate it from being stuck in one single narrative. A narrative that keeps on being recycled in schools, the media and history books.
In closing and on the occasion of International Women’s Day 2018, let us work towards using better words to describe people from all cultures and walks of life. Let us try as hard as possible to understand what it is like to call someone by the colour of their skin for the rest of their lives. And let us remember that women suffer two layers of oppression in this scenario; one for their gender, and another for their skin tone!
I do pray that in my lifetime I will be one of many to witness a future where we stop labelling each other, or ourselves, by the colour of our skin. That young girls and boys whose parents and grandparents were once labelled as people of colour or black people will one day roam the earth free from these labels. Free to breathe and live on their own merit. Free at last from this oppression.
The women illustration, people illustration & post are part of the Illustrated Women Who Can blog series by illustrator and artist Yaansoon
This post also appeared in WordPress.com’s The Daily Post challenge, under the buzzword:
Bonnie J. Toomey says
March 9, 2018 at 12:26 amHello, Yaansoon. I have enjoyed your story and viewpoint on the diminishing effects of resorting to skin color to label a person, and agree that it is racist to characterize people strictly by the color of the skin. In many ways it limits us all to one-dimensional stereotypes which further divide us. I am mother of four, grandmother of four and a writer and teacher.
I learned while I was in grad school that it was wrong not to identify people by the color of the skin, particularly minorities, The term, color blind in and of itself I was told by academia is racist. All these years I’ve been color blind and by definition, racist. You can imagine this perplexed me because I do not consider myself as such, nor my children. I was in fact shocked to learn that ignoring the color of one’s skin is in fact a form of racism. I did not agree with this viewpoint when I first heard it and I still do not agree with it. There is too much emphasis on the color of one’s skin in this country (USA) right now and not enough on the merit of the person. We are all people. We are all human,. When raising our children, who are adults and have grown up to be open, educated, and curious people who enjoy traveling and learning about cultures that are different from their own, see people as human beings who have ideas and hopes and dreams just like they do, As a family, we did not resort to color of skin as the default identifier, I believe doing so is lazy and as you say flattens the whole person, although the media, those in politics, and higher ed institutions seem to make it a point to bang this skin color drum, and essentially, doing so creates unfounded divides based on the color of a person’s skin, which is counterproductive on so many levels. I know when my son was traveling in China, he felt very much in the minority, simply because he was the only blonde-haired, Irish-skinned man around. The funny thing is no one can tell by looking at him that his great-great grandmother was a M’ikmaq Native American from Northern Maine. My daughter with her blue eyes and blonde hair stood out when she traveled to Mexico. My eldest daughter with her grandmother’s dark hair and eyes has been asked if she is from the Mideast! Or the Philippines! So, skin color does not tell the whole story and never has, but I can understand how for the first time my light-skinned children suddenly felt white for the first time, much like Chimamanda Adiche says she felt black for the first time. It is hard to not notice a person when they are so different looking as you say. It’s also hard to change minds to go beyond the color of one’s skin when your skin color is not the same as the dominant group within which you’re living/traveling. Anyhow, I think it comes down to intelligence and a willingmpness to be curious and an openness to learn about people who have different cultures, ethnicities, or even skin tone. You have a lovely blog with your wonderful illustrations. I’m so glad you’ve shared your story. It’s a reminder to put the shoe on the other foot , so to speak. Too often we forget there are all kinds of people in the world, that the world is a wonderfully colorful place with so much beauty, and that there is so much to learn about one another when we take the time to listen. This is how we fight fear and ignorance which so often leads to hate.
Yaansoon says
March 9, 2018 at 1:37 amHello, Bonnie! I read your comment and it brought tears to my eyes.
I am not at all surprised that the academia had such a theoretical and non empathetic concept about racism, and that it was trying to brand it and push it as the “truth.”
My mother’s friend studied in America a few years ago, doing her doctorate in physiological studies. She came back infuriated, because she was taught that intelligence (IQ) was based on race. The course she was taught stated this as a fact (not as theory), saying studies have shown that Caucasian people were the smartest race in the world, followed by I-can’t-remember-who, and at the end of the ladder you had Arabs, and at the very bottom you had what they termed as black people. This was about 10 or 15 years ago. Can you imagine? She spoke to her professor about this, saying this was shockingly racist, but he said it was substantiated by research and studies.
You’re right! In addition to the media and political parties, you also have racism that is blessed by the academia, in the name of research, objectivity, and higher knowledge. But humans are humans, and no domain is ever pure, even if it has the external image that protects it. And absolutely! Racism is everywhere, and you can feel it if you’re the odd one in the crowd. The worst kind is, however, when you are regarded as the odd one for the length of your life, and to be identified by it every step of the way, when your skin colour becomes everything about you, when it defines you, takes away from your humanity. It’s just unimaginable to spend one’s lifetime on earth being treated that way. I honestly dream of a day when the world is cleansed of such demeaning language, and that all of us, from all cultural backgrounds are empathetic enough to change our selves and our vocabulary for the sake of others, so that they too may live a life of dignity and grace.
Thank you again for taking the time to leave such a heartfelt comment, and I’m really honoured that you liked my illustrations! Please send my sincerest regards to your children and grandchildren, very much enjoyed reading about their experiences!
Wendy says
March 8, 2018 at 10:19 amVery interesting story! It opened up my view more. As a Western-European female I am not so aware that people were using the term ‘people/person of color’ that much (especially in the US) and the effects of that. I read and wrote some about white privilege, but your post is seen from another angle. As a orientalist (graduated years ago) I also enjoyed reading about the Maghreb history and poetry; the admiration for toned skins.
I recently was in Africa (Uganda) and I must say my position as being white was akward. I was treated as a walking wallet and seen as a high-ranked person without even having said a word. It made me feel disappointed and uncomfortable, I was just open minded and myself: a person, not a color. It’s the other way around, I would say. And it’s not a very positive tendency or behaviour if so to speak. I guess a lot of white people can deal with this, but to be honest: I couldn’t.
So yes, I also pray that we will all be free from oppression and judgement. It’s going to be a long way, but your posts are a contribution. A big thank you!
Yaansoon says
March 8, 2018 at 3:13 pmThank you for your kind words and insightful comment! I read your comment a few times, and I can totally see how racism can be a two way thing. Absolutely. And I also know what you mean by being treated as a “high-ranked” person. Some call that what roughly translates into: “The foreigners complex.” I know what you mean by being treated like an open wallet. This happened to me when I travelled to Cairo a few times. I don’t think it’s about being white, as much as being different-looking as a foreigner, with clothes and a demeanour that is different from the locals. It is a very sad behaviour that portrays lack of dignity and some moral licence to try and use someone from a different culture. You don’t see much of this behaviour in the Eastern Mediterranean, but it’s so much prevalent in Egypt, and now you say Uganda. I think it’s a signal of cultural deterioration. Egypt for instance was once the most advanced nation in the MENA region, especially during King Farouq’s time. If you watch the old black-and-white movies you can tell there was a lot of high standards there. But when the leadership changed, things declined rapidly, and culturally the country stopped being the patron of the arts that it once was. A lot of looting, hatred based on socio-economic reasons, low-standard music, etc, became the new norm. Thank you again for taking the time to comment, your prayers are my prayers!
Wendy says
March 18, 2018 at 10:08 amThanks for your reply, I didn’t receive a notification of it, so I’m a bit late. You are right about this decline in civilizations. It came along during my studies And Egypt gave me also a horrible experience 3 years ago. It was slightly different than Uganda; Egyptians seem more business minded, but still. And yes, The Ottoman empire, the Persian, and also Egypt (think of Um Khoultoum!) had highly developped societies once. Í started with reading ‘Orientalism’ of Edward Said, it explains a lot. It seems that much of the decline has to do with the colonial vision of the British, French and the nowadays US approach.
So, let us all be aware…. Go on writing and drawing! All the best for you.
Yaansoon says
March 18, 2018 at 6:14 pmThank you Wendy for your insights – I truly enjoyed reading your comment! No worries, I sometimes don’t get some of the comment notifications either, don’t know why.
I share your views about the Ottoman empire. Although it has a very bad rap in history books and the general rhetoric in MENA , it was actually the golden era for the region. Things went downhill post Sultan Abdul Hamid.
I attempted reading ‘Orientalism’ when I was in uni and failed drastically, couldn’t get past the first page (hehe)! But I read about it, and now that you mention it, I might give it another shot.
Thank you again for a lovely conversation, and hope to cross paths again! Wishing you all the best!