When my coworker lent me By The River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept, she also lent me a book she contributed an essay to a while ago: Naked: Black Women Bare All About Their Skin, Hair, Hips, Lips, and Other Parts. Co-edited by Ayana Byrd and Akiba Solomon (both of whom I've had the pleasure of meeting and hanging out with in the past), Naked provides different views into the societal pressures black women have grown up with. Women from all walks of life - young, old, straight, gay, thick and thin - with a slew of compelling experiences talk about their body issues and the road they walked to finally come to terms with what they were given.I might not be African-American, but as a woman of color I saw myself in many of these women. I understand what it's like to want to emulate what everyone else thought was beautiful and then turn on my body when it didn't look like that. Those negative ideas seem to seep in quietly, gradually building strength over time. This happens when certain body types are praised as others get ignored; when certain shapes are given connotations and stereotypes are formed.
I remember being really young and already realizing the preferences between light skin and dark.
"Why was I born with dark skin like you instead of light skin like dad?" I'd ask my mom. I think I just wanted to see myself in at least one of the Disney princesses of the time - all of whom had perfectly straight locks instead of the poofy mess I was blessed with. The same hair that had to be straightened every two weeks once I was older so it could better resemble "good hair."
Naked is honest and thought-provoking. I think no matter what your race is, it can still make you take a closer look at your own body, confront your feelings towards it and realize what your own prejudices are.
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