Women + Blackness = Beautiful

As I stood up after getting my hair braided by 4 lovely African women one day, one of them looked at me and said, "What country you from?" I smiled nicely and said, "Here." Then she said, "Oh. You so beautiful." And I graciously thanked her because I had no idea that compliment was coming.

Thinking about it afterward however, I'm curious why she immediately thought I had to be from another country in order to be beautiful. As if in her history, Black American women have thus far been incapable of being beautiful and she was surprised to finally find one. It would be fascinating to learn the reasoning behind this. And though it was an unsolicited comment, it still made me think of the myriad ways African-American women are marginalized in spaces one would assume would be more open and inviting to us. Not accepting necessarily, but distinctly more friendly as if to say, "You may not be one of us, but you are still of us."

This reminds me of a recent trip to Morocco in which the experience was markedly different for many reasons. The biggest difference was, my experience largely included men much more than women. Being in a Muslim country, this wasn't surprising but it still saddened me. I also was incredibly more aware of my surroundings at all times as a result.

In Morocco, in the short-term anyway, blackness was desirable. It was also a business opportunity. I was seen and immediately pegged for a tourist after which I was called some pretty imaginative names. Instead of giving you a succinct list, I'll let you really experience it and tell you every single name I was called while there because yes, I recorded them:

-Tracy Chapman (really?)
-Serena Williams (I'll take it!)
-Chocolate (...is a food sir)
-Nice color (yes, as a name/catcall)
-Rasta (I had twists at the time)
-Sister/Sistah
-Americanne
-Denzel Washington sister
-Nina Simone (this one was my favorite)

The one that struck me the most (apart from "Denzel Washington sister" because does he even have one?), was "nice color".  The first time I heard it, I didn't know who they were referring to and to myself said, "...what!?" aloud. It was confusing to hear myself referred to based solely on the levels of melanin in my skin.

Now again, it could have been due to the fact I was a tourist and they were only interested in me for my wallet but even with the few guys I met who tried to “stick around”, blackness, on the surface, seemed to be desirable.

This gets interesting back in the States because of the amount of times black women get a compliment that starts out, “So are you mixed?” or “Where are you from?” And if you tell them, “nothing” or “here, as in the US” respectively, they’re either surprised or refuse to believe you at first. Black women carry a historically-based stigma that necessitates being partially “other” in order to be perceived as beautiful. This is detrimental to our community. A Black woman does not need to be part-something or from somewhere else in order to be beautiful. She simply is.