Age Ain’t Nothin’ But a Number

You’ve all heard this one before: “Black don’t crack.” But, I submit for you a new catchphrase: “Brown don’t frown.” ™© (You best pay me if you steal this one.) It’s a well-known fact that melanin protects skin from the sun’s harmful rays, resulting in reduced risk of skin cancer as well as natural wrinkle protection. What it leads to is an inability for other people to identify how old you are.

All my life, people have been unable to guess my age. When I was in high school, I resembled a 12-year-old. In my early 20s, I looked 18. Now, at 25, I’m confused for a 21 year-old. Since I finally look like I’m legal, I guess I should be flattered. Pretty soon (ok, a half-decade from now), I’ll be the most convincing 30 year-old pretending to be 25.

Despite my typical ethnic girl hang-ups with melanin, I am incredibly grateful to be blessed with skin that doesn’t sunburn or crinkle. Ninety-five percent of the time. I see how gracefully the women in my family have aged and I hope to follow suit.

But, there’s a little bitty part of me that wishes I could appear my age once in a while. Say, in the workplace. This summer, I interned at a PR agency, where I know I passed for one of the undergrad interns. It would have been nice if my same-age mentor would have regarded me as such. I know that it’s shallow and ageist, but older people are regarding with more authority at work, and their responsibilities are doled out accordingly.

The other area age shouldn’t be twisty: romantic encounters. Get your mind out of the gutter, not that kind. I just mean, when I first meet a guy – out on the town – I don’t like to be greeted with, “Twenty-five? Oh, I thought you were younger.” Complimentary sometimes, but not when you leave the interaction feeling like an old bitch. One day I will be thrilled to attract younger men, but right now, I'm not trying to get with a I-just-graduated-live-with-my-parents-have-no-income kind of guy.

I suppose I’ll just have to wait til I’m fabulous 40 to accept my god-given anti-aging serum.

An Open Letter to EA Games

Dear Rock Band distributors,

Could you please, please, please expand the shades of skin color available to Rock Band avatars? While creating a character for your latest version, Rock Band 3, I couldn't help but feel disappointed when I noted the abundance of pale shades in contrast to the ones containing melanin. I had to settle for a burnt sienna shade for my alter ego, but really, it was either that or the color make-up companies often refer to as "sable" that didn't represent what I would consider a Caucasian skin tone.

I expect more from you when you develop Rock Band 4. When I play the game, I don't want to feel like I'm standing at a Clinique counter trying to decide which of their absurdly pigment-lacking foundations match me best.

Rock Band is a ridiculously fun game. It is in fact the only video game I have ever played more than once. It encourages kids to cultivate an interest in music. I just hope you take kids of all different colors into consideration your next go around. You wouldn't want to potentially discourage any future rock stars to be.

Thanks for listening,

Di

"Women of Color": Love It or Hate It?

Back in college, when we conceived the idea for this blog, Cris and I dreamt it would be a publication with a message of empowerment for women of color.

That's still one of our main focuses, but as you may have noticed, we've branched out a bit with our topics.

Now to me, that terminology evokes the image of strong women. Women who, after so long being regarded the "other" in juxtaposition to white women, have taken back by their power in proud proclamation. Plus, that phrasing sounds so much better to me than minority women or ethnic women.

However, I was on lunch break (I know everything happens on lunch) with my boss, watching Tyra Banks. At some point during the commercial interruption, we watched an ad for make-up that was targeted at "women of color." My boss, who is white, was upset. She believes that color implies that she has no skin pigment. And that color hearkens back to a time when all people were broken down into the categories of whites and coloreds.

Honestly though, I do think it is necessary to market this special make-up as foundation for darker-skinned gals can be harder to find. And really, since race is not scientifically based, but rather a construction based on factors such as our skin color, I think it's fair for us to say that we are "of color."

As for white women being offended at being called color-less, I say deal with it. We've got our whole lives defined by our brownness, dark or light as that may be. Since our coloredness has so long been our identifier, and with as many things that have been ascribed to us because of our non-whiteness, I see no reason to be inclusive. Call it reverse discrimination, whatever. But I don't know of too many cases in which peach-skinned Americans were treated poorly because of their skin color. Things would be different if colors, black and white, weren't also used as racial categories.

Let us reclaim this term for ourselves. As women of color, we could let ourselves be weighed down by our double burden - sexual & racial discrimination, barriers, and glass ceilings. Our we can celebrate our awesomeness. I like to use the term to do the latter.

But enough about what I think. What do you think?

-De