Here are a few statements from my oldest daughter, Rosie, about 2 weeks ago:
“Sometimes when I wake up in the morning and look in the mirror I don’t like my style.”
When I asked her what she didn’t like she said her hair (when it’s curly) and her skin.
When I asked further what she meant by her skin, she said, “because it’s not light.”
My heart sank.
Everything within me as a woman and mother, especially as a mami to girls, rages against how our culture has crafted and manipulated the definitions and ideals of beauty. Even with various campaigns that have made strides in expanding our historically narrow view of what is beautiful, somehow the idea that “white/light is right” prevails.
Since even before Rosie was born I knew what I was going to teach her about her body, her culture, her identity in Christ, her Latinidad. This began with my words. I became acutely aware of the words I used, their meanings, and the direct (or indirect) messages they sent.
More important than the words that were going to come out of my mouth would be the behaviors I would model for her. This meant a lot of undoing and peace-making within myself: undoing the distorted body image perceptions passed down through generations of women in my family; coming to terms with and finding peace in being a light-skinned, green-eyed Latina–I was never Latina enough for anyone in the U.S., Hispanics and non-Hispanics alike, nevermind the fact that I speak Spanish and lived in Mexico for 2 months out of every year for the first 22 years of my life. My Latinidad was always challenged because of the color of my skin and eyes. Growing up as the only Latino family in my neighborhood (in the ‘burbs) didn’t help matters. I explored how these factors had impacted my life and navigated through my emotional challenges throughout college and early adulthood.
The key contributor to finding contentment and confidence in who I am–all of who I am in my rawest, fullest form–was allowing my identity in Christ to fully sink in. God assures me in His Word that He created me in His own image (Genesis 1:27). We are all given that same assurance, and that trumps everything. That message is the core of what I have always taught my daughter. Not only do I model the behaviors that empower my daughter and utter the words that mirror those behaviors, but I monitor everything she watches and hears (TV shows, commercials, videos on the iPad, songs, etc.). And STILL, the poison seeped through.
As I often do, I let her speak her heart and mind in that short exchange without readying an immediate response. Then a few really great things happened the week following this little conversation. I believe that in many aspects it does take a village to raise a child. And in the following week my village was Sesame Street. In the span of one week Sesame Street played episodes that talked about being proud of one’s skin color and another about one’s hair. Here are the videos:
Days later we were getting ready to head out for the day. My hair was freshly washed and down. Rosie was with me in the bathroom as I was styling it and said, “Mami, your hair looks like mine. Well, mine is little darker.” I replied, “Yes, but do we have the same kind of hair? Curly?” “Yes!” Rosie responded. I asked, “Are we the curly girls?” “Yeah!” she exclaimed.
Small victory. I’m sure this is something my husband and I will need to reinforce in our kids consistently (and they are all so different from one another!) as they grow. I pray their confidence will come from knowing who they are as creations of the Most High God and that He designed every little detail about them them according to His perfect plan, including their hair and the color of their skin.
Have a blessed weekend, folks.
rosario cintrón 