By: Ashwin Reddy | July 05, 2020
Preface: During this time of protest for black lives and racial injustice, I've heard South Asians in the US and abroad comment, "I understand what black people are going through because my skin complexion is dark." While South Asian Americans have experienced prejudice based on their skin tones, we do not experience the same systemic racism that our Black brothers and sisters encounter. We are not subject to the same racial disparities in wealth, education, incarceration and home employment. Rather, as you will read, colorism actually perpetuates anti-Blackness in the South Asian community. Therefore, the importance of dismantling colorism is twofold: to heal the biases South Asians project onto each other and to deconstruct anti-Blackness in our community.
As a child, my fair skin was marveled by my relatives in India. It was a trophy for them to showcase to their neighbors. Like any normal child, I just wanted to spend hours playing under the summer sun. However, such playtime was immediately discouraged because of the sensitivity of my South Asian melanocytes. Any exposure to sunlight would automatically invite a tan and a certain scold: "You've become as dark as a crow."
Fast forward to 2020. After living in California for four years, my melanin glows under the Golden State sun. I am darker, but I am not surprised. My genes direct my skin cells to produce more melanin in response to higher levels of sunlight exposure. Therefore, more time spent in the sun has resulted in a darker skin tone. However, I am baffled by the criticism and judgement of my darker skin.
Do I control the sun? No. Do I control my genes? No. Should I skip going to class when it's sunny outside? No. Is it a sin to go on a run or a hike when it's sunny outside? No. Why, then, have I been faulted by fellow South Asians for this new appearance? Because these critics claim that fairness is something that I should strive to maintain. By staying inside, I could have prevented "spoiling my good looks" and "becoming a black crow."
Today, I ask you to plug in as I reflect on these statements. Let's unpack colorism in the South Asian community.
Colorism in the Past and Present:
Colorism is a form of discrimination or prejudice, based on the color of your skin, that typically occurs among members of the same race or ethnic group. Within the South Asian community and other communities of color, there is a prevalent belief that light skin tones are more preferable.
(Don't believe me? Just take a look at this video that highlights the rise of fairness cosmetics across the world).
Scholars argue over how colorism began in South Asia. Some theorize that the origins of colorism were concurrent with the Aryan invasion of the Indian subcontinent or the creation of the caste system.
More commonly, however, others point to the centuries-long presence of Mughal empires and the British empire. During this time "dark" natives were ruled by individuals who were more "white" and "fair." Furthermore, during this time, the darker farmers and laborers who toiled in the sun did not receive the same colonial privileges as other fair-skinned natives of higher-status. This created an association of power, status and beauty with fair skin and inferiority with dark skin.
Unfortunately, like other remnants of colonization, colorism endures to this day. The rise of the fairness cream industry is one of the best indicators of this reality. In India, the market for “fairness” cream and lotion is valued at approximately 450 million USD. It continually grows between 15 to 20% on a year-to-year basis.
These skin-lightening products, some of which have actually proven to be chemically damaging to the skin, have gained in popularity due to endorsement by cultural icons such as television stars, actors, and actresses. (I Google searched "Bollywood supporting Fairness Creams" and results included Shahrukh Khan, John Abraham, Shahid Kapoor, Priyanka Chopra, and many others).
The film industry also directly perpetuates colorism in its own ways. There are few actors or actresses in the South Asian movie industries who have a dark skin tone, although the region’s population is largely composed of people who are dark-skinned. Furthermore, villains and antagonists are often depicted as dark men fighting the fair-skinned heroes. Lastly, Bollywood has also received criticism for its use of "Brownface" (and even "Blackface") to perpetuate false racist and colorist stereotypes.
Unfortunately, these mindsets continue to haunt South Asians even in diasporic communities. For example, consider the trailblazing Nina Davuluri, who became the first South Asian Miss America in 2013. While many South Asians were thrilled to offer Nina congratulatory messages, some members of the community only expressed judgment.
In an interview, Nina recalls waking up the morning after her win to headlines such as "Is Miss America, Nina Davuluri, too dark for most Indians?". Imagine that -- you just redefined who could become the face of America's "Girl Next Door", yet people of your own community target your skin color to downplay your success.
It is high time for South Asians to address this repudiation of dark skin -- especially in light of current movements for social change. The recent acts of violence perpetrated against our Black brothers and sisters demonstrate that your pigmentation can deprive you of the right to breathe, go on a run, or even eat Skittles. As we strive for a better society, where race and skin color do not predispose one to such violence and injustice, obsessing over fair skin can only serve to be regressive.
South Asians need to cast away our colorist prejudices that are intimately tied to the anti-Blackness within our community. Hasan Minhaj explains this reality on his Netflix comedy series Patriot Act: "I know how we talk about Black people and it is f***ed up. If someone in your family is dark-skinned, we clown them. Our Bollywood stars do skin-whitening commercials so we don't look black." If our community continues to cast away dark skin and label it as inferior, then we cannot claim to be anti-racist. Our aversion to darkness poisons our view of Black folk and prevents us from being true allies.
Dismantling Colorism:
Fortunately, members of the South Asian community have already started working on dismantling colorism by promoting public representations of dark complexions.
Nandita Das, an Indian actress and film director, became the face of the “Dark is Beautiful” campaign in 2013 after being told to “lighten her skin” if she wanted to play certain roles.
More recently, three students from the University of Texas at Austin launched their own "Unfair and Lovely" campaign, for which they asked dark-skinned South Asians to post their photos online and combat the underrepresentation of dark-skinned individuals in the media.
Many A-list South Asian fashion designers like Sabyasachi Mukherji, Anju Modi, Rahul Mishra and others have also garnered praise for hiring dark-skinned models to showcase their creations -- a practice practically unknown to South Asian modeling agencies.
A photo series by Naresh Nil titled "Dark is Divine" has sought to redefine Hindu religious iconography and portray gods and goddesses as dark-skinned.
However, these pushes for redefining representation are not enough. If we're to see a change in the coming generations, we must also address our own internal biases and prejudices within ourselves and our homes. We must be brave in calling out colorist statements, even when it makes us feel uncomfortable (see graphic below for examples of such statements).
As parents or role models, either now or in the future, we must never give our loved ones hate for acquiring a tan. They need to feel beautiful and valued irrespective of the color of their skin. As allies, we must also be aware of how South Asian support to the Black community is hampered by colorist prejudices. And, while dismantling colorism will aid us in better countering racial injustice, it is only just the beginning. We must continue to educate ourselves and speak out against other racist practices and policies. So, buckle up, because our journey has just begun.
