Kala shah kala, mera kala hai sardar, goreyan nu daffa karo
Dark-skinned, dark-skinned, my beloved is dark-skinned, the fair-skinned can get lost
These are the lyrics to a popular Panjabi folk song traditionally sung at weddings and other such celebrations. Although the song itself is progressive and encourages society to change its views around colourism, this month, a Panjabi language film entitled Kala Shah Kala is being released and features the main lead in blackface. The character is shown to be struggling to find love due to his kala rang (dark colour).
This is not the first time the Panjabi film industry has done this to tell stories about the issues dark-skinned Panjabis face. The 2016 film Bambukat featured the female lead in blackface to tell the story of how her family treats her differently than her fair-skinned sister. Countless Panjabi songs speak of the ideal woman being slim, shy, and above all fair-skinned. Some singers even sing of their “progressive values” saying they would be okay with dating or marrying a girl with a dark complexion. Beauty is synonymous with fairness.
So, we need to talk about anti-blackness in non-black communities of colour. Today, I will be speaking specifically about the Panjabi community.
Many South Asian communities struggle with what is referred to as the “colonial hangover”- an obsession with fairness and whiteness, a desire to increase their proximity to whiteness in whichever way possible. This is also referred to as a desire to continue ghulami (slavery) for the white man even after the British left South Asia. The Panjabi community is no different.
Young children (mostly girls) are stopped from playing in the sun lest they get too dark, and are told that no one will marry them if they are not fair. Fairness creams and skin bleaching products are consumed in enormous amounts to satisfy this obsession with white skin. My grandmother’s sister is in her 70s and still uses a skin lightening cream called “Fair and Lovely” daily. She recently sent some to my 80 year old grandmother and encouraged her to begin using it as well so that she would look less dark. Dark skin is considered so ugly and undesirable that even in old age people actively try to get rid of it.
In the diaspora in North America parents tell their children to stay away from black children in school because they think those children are a bad influence and will corrupt their own children. By refusing to associate with black people, many first generation Panjabi immigrants try to appeal to white people and increase their proximity to whiteness to gain social power. Under white supremacist systems, it benefits people to assimilate and act as much like the ruling class as possible.
Many non-black people of color take advantage of the model minority narrative to show mainstream society (white people) that although they are not white, they are better than black people because they are better at serving whiteness. The stereotypes that Asian children are good at math and computer science are embraced because it makes the communities look productive and non-threatening to white supremacist systems.
On the other hand, second generation children born in North America are engaging in more and more appropriation of black culture. While their parents wanted to gain social power in the land they immigrated to, the children grew up seeing and experiencing racism and violence from their white peers and became alienated from mainstream society. They learned to identify more with black culture than white culture, and quickly began to convince themselves that they too were black. Panjabi kids in North America began to consume rap music, dressing styles, wearing their hair in corn rows, and appropriating African-American Vernacular English (AAVE). Many have convinced themselves so strongly of their own blackness that they see no problem with saying the “N word.”
Perhaps one of the most visible examples of this appropriation is Lilly Singh, also known as Superwoman, the YouTube sensation from Scarborough, Ontario, Canada. As others have mentioned, although she is of Panjabi heritage, she frequently wears her hair in corn rows, uses AAVE, and mimics the accents of people from Trinidad and Tobago to promote her own brand and make money. It is important to note that once she is no longer creating content to profit from, she can stop “being black.” When it is more profitable for her to look white, she does so. When making appearances on television shows like Jimmy Kimmel Live, The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon, and Chelsea, the cornrows, clothes and accent are gone. Instead, we see straightened hair, mainstream clothing and her Canadian accent.
None of this is remotely acceptable. While on one hand people pretend to be black to gain cultural capital, this same group is able to stop being black whenever they want and many times perpetuate the same sort of racism upon black communities that white people do by perpetuating stereotypes. I have heard Panjabi men often talk about how they want to date black girls but they would never marry a black woman. They participate in the hypersexualization and dehumanization of black bodies the same way as others.
Following the death of Trayvon Martin and the emergence of the Black Lives Matter movement, many second generation Panjabi children sat down and talked to their families about the anti-blackness in their community for the first time. For some, it helped change minds. But it was not enough. Anti-blackness not only still exists in Panjabi communities, it is thriving. We have to call it out every time we see it, no matter how uncomfortable the conversation is and how many people are offended.
In my own family, when my grandmother describes a beautiful girl, she will always mention that the girl was fair-skinned. It seems fairness is a prerequisite for beauty. This is where I began calling her out some years ago. Each time she says it, she looks at me and stops herself now that I’ve done it more than a few dozen times.
Hi Avneet,
ReplyDeleteIt was illuminating to hear about anti-blackness within other communities of colour. As an undergraduate history student, I certainly learned about colonialism and its implications, but my predominantly (exclusively) white professors never delved into the deeper, long-lasting effects on the colonized communities - and they especially did not comment on the "colonial hangover". As I read your post, it made me question the role that education - inside and outside of the classroom - plays in perpetuating colonialist/white supremacist ideals.
For example at my college, I think there were maybe 5 total history classes that were not focused on European history (out of about 40 courses). And, in the European courses, impacts on communities of colour constituted either a brief aside or a one-off week of instruction during the semester. It is frustrating when institutions, be they political, religious, educational, or even familial in nature, gloss over the lasting, very real, and very destructive effects of white power over communities of colour. Education plays a pivotal role in advancing or dismantling racism, the patriarchy, and inequality in general.
But, as you said, this can be combatted. Like you have done, I want to challenge myself to call out my educators, family, friends, etc. whenever these issues do come up. Admittedly, I have not done that consistently in the past, and I'm sure it has to do with the role I, as a white woman, play in this white-centric regime. It can be uncomfortable, and as someone who "benefits" (undoubtedly laws are written and executed in my favour) from a white-centric society, I often talk myself out of doing so because letting it slide is much easier (what will change for me if I don't?). But, doing so is an important step to dismantling a white supremacist culture, and dismantling that culture is essential to promoting equality of the sexes, races, ethnicities, sexual orientations...everyone! Alongside this, I need to educate myself further on issues that communities of colour face so that I can approach conversations with family and friends with competence and understanding, not ignorance. Person by person, we can change things.
Avneet,
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this extremely relevant and thought-provoking post. As a Panjabi woman myself, I completely relate to the struggles associated with combatting the “colonial hangover.” Till today, many of my family members emphasize the importance of remaining “a lighter skinned Indian woman” and frequently remind me to limit my sun exposure. Not a day goes by without a family member reminding me to wear a hat before going outside or avoid going outside altogether until the sun sets. In addition, hearing statements such as “Who will marry you if you become so dark?” being thrown around has sadly become quite commonplace.
I completely agree with your notion that we as individuals must challenge those who promulgate anti-blackness views. We must firmly stand against these historically rooted ideals and increase awareness of the beauty that resides in all shades of color. Although we as individuals possess the ability to foster change, I wonder to what extent the media plays a complementary role in sparking this awareness and change.
Historically, popular culture figures and media outlets romanticized anti-blackness ideals. Actors who achieved prominence or success in movies or television predominantly fit the so-called typical mold of beauty: a person who is tall, light skinned, and has light colored eyes. These actors often endorsed beauty products designed for fairer skin tones or promulgated the need to obtain fairer skin tones by using certain products such as fairness creams.
However, recently, many popular culture figures and media outlets have challenged this status quo of beauty. Popular culture figures are starting to develop beauty products that cater to all skin types and media outlets are launching advertisements that denounce altering natural skin tones. For example, when I went to India last December, a makeup advertisement aired that denounced the use of fairness creams and encouraged women to embrace products that match their natural skin tone for the first time. Similarly, here in America, Rihanna, a popular music artist, launched the Fenty Beauty makeup line, which included foundations that can be used on a wider variety of skin tones.
Seeing popular culture figures and media outlets shift away from negative perspectives on darker skin tones gives me hope for change and makes me believe that individuals will be inspired to vocally challenge the status quo within their own families and communities.
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ReplyDeleteAvneet,
ReplyDeleteThank you for writing such a poignant piece on this topic. As a South Asian (Pakistani) woman of color, this post struck a cord with me. I've witnessed first hand in my own community the idealization of "white" features such as fair skin, light eyes, and light hair. Women who don't fit this mold aren't considered classically beautiful and "marriage-worthy".
Pakistani women work hard to filter their pictures to create the illusion of lighter skin and erase any depiction of darkness. A friend recounted how her father had bought her skin lightening cream "Fair and Lovely" from Pakistan and encouraged her to use it. After using it religiously for a couple of years, her skin had lightened by almost four or five shades. While she felt a sense of identity-loss, self-hate, and confusion, it was offset by all of the positive comments in the community. My heart broke for her in a thousand pieces. My heart broke for the millions of children who are told that they aren't beautiful because of the color of their skin.
By perpetuating racial hierarchy within races, we ignore the beauty of diversity. These type of hierarchies create further divisions in our racial and global communities instead of fostering a sense of togetherness and inclusivity.
As women, when we hear this kind of rhetoric, we must immediately speak up and denounce it. Beauty spans across the racial spectrum and it would be an injustice to limit what beauty is to one segment of society.