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I see that all of us who live are nothing but images or insubstantial shadow. Sophocles

Friday, July 30, 2010

 

 

I’m biased.

Not in a black versus white sort of way but just as nearly as cut and dry.

I’m 4b.

Yeah, yeah, texture and hair typing should be outlawed. It isn’t precise. It sets us apart. Yeah, yeah. Si claro.

But the thing is, one can’t help but accept what one sees everyday.

For example, I’ve been raised in a predominately slim and slender household. Bigger sized people are glaring artifacts for me. I wasn’t raised with a bias but I just cannot help to find something curious when I have not witnessed it before. That’s a fact. So sue me.

The essential thing here is that I don’t discriminate based on it. I am aware of this inner bias and I refuse to let it dominate my choice. For instance,my experience with size doesn’t mean I can’t pick a bigger kid for my football team. Meaning, I don’t factor it into my choice decisions. I use other criteria. Are they fast enough? Are they strong? The slim kids get this same treatment.

And no. It’s not a constant fight about not doing something I’d tend toward doing if not corrected. These are just examples.

Now on to hair.

How we imagine ourselves has a lot to do with what we view in the world.

We do not view ourselves in this world. We view others.

We do not have the luxury of viewing ourselves through reality television and so we never really see our selves in reality, we imagine it.

How can we imagine our true selves if we never ever see constructs of our selves?

I’m not saying everyone has to have my hair. I’m saying I look out for everyone that has my hair. Because society has made that into the glaring exception. I constantly walk around trying to collect these images.

So you could be black, but since I’ve gone natural kinky you are almost instantly deleted. You could be black with coily hair, but since my hair is very kinky I’m sorry but you are almost instantly deleted. You see I don’t want just black. And I can’t stand straight or coily or slightly kinked. I want to see myself in the world and I am constantly scooping found material and locking it away for my mind to digest.

I’m not looking down on the permed or the mixed or the whatever there is out there that exists.

I’m just looking out for a me.

So much so that color comes into it. I’m sorry but I’m not really looking for a hazel eyed, kinky chick. nor am I looking for a cream colored, kinky chick.

I’m just looking out for a me.

I want to see out there a beautiful chocolate black, kinky hair girl. I want to look at her and think, “My God!, she’s gorgeous!” or even better, I want to see sexy.

Everytime I see that, I am reminded  I am beautiful too. I am reminded that it’s not just my upbringing which tends toward thinking that myself is a beauty but instead it is out there and I can see it and it exists.

Unfortunately I live in a society where these reminders are hard to come by.

Trust me this isn’t racial. Case and point the completely black (and African) couple who had the completely white baby girl. If I were her raised in a society which was predominately black I would be in the same position but on the opposite side trying to find images of my skin and my hair, and quite possibly my eye color as well.

This is not to simplify what she will go through in her life but I have to say perhaps it would be easier for her if she took on such a journey simply because popular media supports this.

Stay with me here. Remember this is an imaginative world and yes, I do know that her situation is going to be a lot more complicated than those circumstances laid out.

But come one. Doesn’t it help when, in a world dominated by media, the image of you exists readily and appreciably?

I think so.

Do you?

 

While she’s cute. I’m simply never going to look like her.

“Whoever controls the media, the images, controls the culture.”
Allen Ginsberg

(to be continued)

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. Monday, August 2, 2010 1:39 PM

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