On my way to work today I overheard two young girls, no older than 10, talking. One of the girls was telling the other how she couldn't wait to be old enough to be able to bleach her skin and weave her hair and how her friend was so lucky to be born with such pretty light skin. The other girl, was silent through most of the discussion but when she did speak, she moved me to tears.
In a quiet voice, she said, "I think you're very pretty."
This has been on my mind all day. It took me back to my own childhood when I battled with the complete disconnect between my image and the definition of what beauty is/was. My heart aches for all the little girls who struggle with their self image... Where does it begin and where does it end?
Who taught you to hate the color of your skin?
Who taught you to hate the shape of your nose and the shape of your lips?
Who taught you to hate yourself from the top of your head to the soles of your feet?
Who taught you to hate your own kind?
Who taught you to hate the race that you belong to so much so that you don’t want to be around each other?”
Malcolm X, 1962 Speech