Dark truths: Colourism in society begins with prejudice at home

The revelations made by Meghan Markle and Prince Harry that a member of the British royal family allegedly had concerns about the colour of their son’s skin have sent shock waves through British society. However, it is unlikely to surprise many South Asians, for whom such comments are unfortunately all too familiar. Listening to Meghan relay this story to Oprah, I remembered my own pain, anger and hurt following the birth of my daughter when family members complained how dark my baby was. Like most new mothers joyfully blinded by a flood of hormones and maternal bias, I fell immediately and totally in love with my daughter and found her to be perfect in every way. I could list a thousand things that I loved about her and find just as many words to describe her, none of which centred on the colour or tone of her skin.

And yet as the months went on, so did the comments. Why does she look so dark? Today she looks black. But now she looks more white. She looks black again. She was even called a racial epithet that I cannot bring myself to repeat. I tried hard to reconcile the obvious love these family members had for my daughter with the bigoted comments that they made.

This ongoing concern with the tone of her skin became even more difficult to understand when one person declared that my daughter was the darkest of all the children in the family. This statement, the relevance of which is wholly questionable, is factually incorrect. The other children are objectively speaking darker than my daughter, but they are boys. Dark skin, it would seem, is not a burden for them. With girls’ and women’s worth so heavily tied to their appearance, and beauty standards intimately linked to skin colour, it is no surprise that my infant daughter was already being judged by the colour of her skin.

Colourism is a prejudice based on skin tone, usually within a racial or ethnic group, with a marked preference for lighter-skinned people and discrimination towards darker-skinned people. Today it is one of the last standing ‘isms’ that ought to have long ago been relegated to the pariah status of racism, sexism and other forms of prejudice. Perhaps it has gone unchallenged for so long because it has been seen as an intra-community, rather than a mainstream, issue for brown and black people to deal with. It may also be because it is easier to address external racism than it is for us to explore how we have internalized white supremacy and use it against each other.

It has different histories in different parts of the world, but all forms of colourism trace their roots to the legacies of slavery and colonialism. In the United States, colourism dates back to the preferential treatment afforded to the mixed-race children born to slaves and slave masters, who were awarded special ‘privileges’ such as being allowed to do less physically taxing work in the house rather than in the fields. In South Asia and other parts of the post-colonial world, a fair skin bias tied to caste and social hierarchies was reinforced by the colonial experience where light skin was associated with the colonial ruling elite. Today globalisation carries on the insidious work of colonialism, spreading Western ideals of beauty, including white skin, across the world.

Like many social ills, colourism disproportionately affects women, whose perceived and self worth is still largely determined by their appearance. The intersectionality of gender and colourism reduces girls’ and women’s prospects for educational, professional and life success. While Bangladesh specific statistics are not available, studies in the United States have found a pay gap between darker and lighter-skinned people; darker-skinned girls are three times more likely to be suspended from school than their lighter-skinned counterparts; and darker-skinned women are less likely to be married than lighter-skinned peers. This last statistic will resonate strongly in South Asia, where matchmakers and matrimonial ads do not even attempt to disguise the preference for ‘fair’ skinned brides over ‘dusky’ ones.

Social media adds yet another troubling dimension to the intersection of colourism and gender. Studies have shown the devastating effects of social media on self-confidence of its users; and it is little surprise that it lowers the confidence of girls more than it does to boys. Popular apps like Instagram and Snapchat are rife with filters that allow users to lighten their skin, promoting and normalising colourism amongst young people.

Yet social media also has the potential to play a key role in challenging and dismantling colourism, such as the successful campaign launched by a Facebook user from Canada demanding that the Indian matchmaking website Shaadi.com remove skin tone from its search filter. The Dark is Beautiful campaign in India was responsible for the infamous ‘Fair and Lovely’ skin whitening cream rebranding itself ‘Glow and Lovely’. While this is a welcome change, it is still the same product with the same intended effect and does not challenge the underlying racist premise of skin whitening products.

Colourism has spawned a lucrative market for the cosmetics industry, which has come under fire for promoting unrealistic beauty ideals that negatively impact girls’ and women’s self esteem. Cosmetic companies in the West have had to shift their branding to a more body-positive discourse, yet the same multinationals have local lines exclusively for the South Asian market that promise to whiten skin through cosmetic creams, chemical peels, laser treatments and other often dangerous procedures. With global spending on whitening products projected to reach US$31 billion by 2024, these companies are unwilling to turn their back on such a profitable sector and will continue to play into and flame society’s obsession with light skin.

To tackle colourism, efforts must begin at home. We cannot chide cosmetic companies for selling skin bleaches or society for valuing fair skinned brides if the first words our daughters hear are that they are too dark. Children are not born wishing they were lighter-skinned. Prejudice is learnt and equally it is taught. Children learn, good things and bad, by observing and imitating. Their opinions are influenced by what the people around them think and say. As parents we cannot control external influences, like films, advertisements or even schoolyard taunts, but we can control what we say and do. I don’t doubt that my daughter will face racism and colourism again in her life. But I will do everything that I can to raise her with a strong sense of self so that when she encounters such bigotry she will reject it, rather than internalise it.

I am sad that Meghan Markle’s early months of motherhood were marred by such painful experiences. But I am grateful that by using her platform and speaking out she has created space for other people of colour to break the silence and talk about our experiences. If each of us speaks out and rejects the colourism within our homes, these collective efforts exceed the prejudice in one home and become the basis for a national conversation for change.

* Maya Barolo-Rizvi is a UK-based gender and governance analyst