Black & Beauty

Usually when I hear the acronyms NPR, words like boring and stuffy automatically come to mind. I formed my opinion of NPR solely on my memories of being subjected to boring talk radio as a passenger in other people’s cars. I know, our memories are faulty and I can admit that I might have been wrong to form an opinion based on so little. The NPR that exists in reality is far from the one I carry in my memory bank. And, on the occasions when G sends me crazy links like this one, I think that it might be worth my time to check out the site more often and maybe even listen to some of the podcasts. If it produces articles that really makes me think then it can’t be all that boring, right?

No doubt, some of us have discussed the idea of what is considered beautiful, especially in black communities. And it is a known fact that women, especially, modify their appearance to fit an ideal of what is considered beautiful. So it really is no surprise that women in Jamaica (and other parts of the world) use skin bleach to try and lighten their appearances. I’m guessing those days where “black is beautiful” was the slogan that many lived by are far behind us. I personally believe that the many shades that we come in is part of what makes black so beautiful. Does any other race struggle as much as blacks do with the color of their skin? I sincerely doubt that. Unquestionably, some of this is shrouded in history where light was right and dark skin was likened to ugliness and all things bad. But we’ve made great strides since then. So why are we regressing?

The situation in Jamaica highlights just how willing some of us are to be lead. Back when a curvaceous figure was the thing, women were popping chicken pills despite the danger from poisoning attached to them. And now that that's changed, they're scrambling to remodel themselves. They cause damage to their skin in their attempts to be on the “right” side of color. They inject their faces to get that fresh look, and cut themselves apart to achieve the youthful figure that is supposed to be attractive to men. Just how far are we willing to go? Many of these beatification tactics list death as a potential side effect and still we continue. Is there nothing that we won’t do to meet someone else’s standard of beauty?

Nice to Meet You, Neighbor!

“I bet the neighbors know my name…” Why does that song (and particularly that line) keep running through my head? I’ve liked the song since the first time I heard it about a month ago. In fact, the more I hear from Trey Songz, the more I am growing to like him. Hmm. It’s puzzling because it usually takes a lot more than a nice mellow beat and a catchy line for me to get hung up on an R&B song but there’s something about it… I guess it could have something to do with the fact that I really do think my neighbors now know who I am (if not my name).

After having water raining down on you from the upstairs apartment, it becomes kinda hard to ignore your neighbor. I swear I never saw my downstairs neighbor before last night but as soon as he knocked on my door, I knew exactly who he was and why he was there. I am truly sorry for the incident but usually when I flush my toilet, water goes down the hole- it doesn’t elevate, spill over and cause water damage to two other apartments. I feel bad not only for the inconvenience that my innocent act might have caused but also because there was no graceful way for me to remove half my collection of bras while they hung drying in the bathroom as the neighbor and the super stood in my tiny bathroom. But we live in a modern times right? At least my bathroom was clean. Guess I’ll just have to think twice about flushing from now on.