Me

I want to start by saying that I really love myself; I love my womanhood, my blackness, every kink in my hair, being the child of my parents, the way I think, the perspective of the world that I have, where I come from and where I see myself going. Everyone should love themselves in this way, it's only healthy. Knowing yourself, looking at yourself honestly, loving yourself and putting that person first have all become things I view as the utmost important things one can do for themselves. Having said that, even with this "love thyself" belief I have, there is something that I've struggled with since one whom I thought was one of my best friends started teasing me in the second grade. He provided the seed and I planted it. Second grade was the first time I questioned if I really was

Growing up, I was surrounded by images of "proud blackness." We were raised knowing our history, African art and mud clothes on the walls, annual Kwanzaa celebrations and ceremonies, natural hair (before the "movement") and positive role models. So, I've never questioned or have been ashamed of that aspect of myself. What I've struggled with is body image. I feel so foolish for having this problem considering I've always told my sisters, little cousins and students to fully love who you are. And I full heartedly believe this but when it ones to myself, there is this dark, ugly voice that tells me that I and this aspect of myself is an exception. And with this, I get so frustrated and upset with this weakness that I allow myself to have. But when you're in a family of model looking cousins (some of which have literally modeled), and sisters who don't have my problem we can't help but think "one of these things are not like the others." I then have this sense of inferiority that I just can't shake. Then the question arrises: "why don't I just change?" This is a complicated question that has internal and external reasons. I can cite my internal and external, physical reasons but I'd just dismiss them as excuses. Yet, here I am. Battling myself on a daily basis, not being able to look at my reflection with finding about 10 problems per minute.

I say all of this in writing about my personal self view because when we were asked to list those 5 words, one of the first two was "fat." Some use that word with pride and I applaud that but I haven't gotten there. I tell myself to wear it like a scarlet letter that I deserve. I've allowed myself to become this grotesque thing that is obvious when anyone looks at me. Just last night, my little cousin called me beautiful and I brushed it off with a joke. I can't get to that point that I tell her to be in everyday. And yet, in that same night, another cousin of mine grabs my leg and says "you're fat." This hypocrisy and self-hatred is so ingrained in me that I feel I can't stop. I know I revealed quite a bit in this blog posting but I'm okay with that. It is my truth and it is a huge aspect of who I am. Additionally, I know it's a plight that many people, especially women of color, deal with constantly.
                                      

When you gave the assignment, I knew exactly what I was going to create. I know the assignment was to create a piece that reflects how we view ourselves but a major part of that "self-view" has been molded by how I'm viewed by others. I hate myself for this but it is my truth that I live in.
When Shervone Neckles came in to share her work, one comment that stuck with me was her memory of her first doll being white. What came to mind was the doll experiment conducted in the 70s that was later re-created a few years ago. I personally, always chose and had black dolls because, of the options provided, they looked the most like me. Yet, even with those black dolls, I was never fully represented. So, I used the disproportionate and unrealistic model of the Mattel barbie. From my "beloved" kinks to my curves, I wasn't fully represented. The paper I have surrounding the doll is from an article by satoshi kanazawa who sought to explain why Black are physically less attractive than all other races of people. The excerpt I chose specifically discusses our average BMI. Honestly, I wasn't shocked or hurt by this person's ignorance. I of course don't share his ridiculous, insulting, unsounded, racist and sexist views but it is a view shared with many. This made my re-evaluate the way I've chosen to foolishly go on viewing myself. Specific words were chosen to be included from the excerpts. I cut out bantu knots out of a cover of Black Hair magazine. When I was younger, I was always confused as to why this magazine always focused on processed "fried, lyed and dyed" hair about 98% of the time. It has changed slightly to be more reflective of the "neo-natural hair movement" but not enough and not for any other reason than trend. In the background is a rastafarian flag to show the pride I have of my predominantly Jamaican heritage. I colored in the doll with black marker because I thought I was dark skinned when I was younger only to be crushed and told I'm a "nice medium brown", with envy, by a cousin straight from Jamaica with the gorgeous dark skin I thought I had. About the doll are glasses representing spectators. I am fully aware of what most see when they look at me.