Reflection: An island girl’s look back at racism
Dear younger self: be black and proud. Love your melanin, kinky curly hair, full lips, and round cheeks.
I grew up on the beautiful Island of Aruba. Best know for being “one happy island”. You would think growing up on the island, it is multicultural, so experiencing racism would be slim to none. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I had always been insecure about my blackness as a child. Growing up amongst mostly white friends. Not just white, blue eyes, blond hair, and a thin frame seemed to be the standard of beauty all around me. In ballet class, I was the only black girl and then later another melanated sista joined me. Not until my last couple of years in high school where I befriended a group of full-figured, beautiful, funny brown goddesses, did I start to feel at home in my own blackness. They probably do not know this but their friendship during that period meant the world to me. They helped me fill a void that I did not realize I had at the time. It’s so important for black women to befriend other black women.
Fast forward to my newly confident black self moving to the US, marrying a black man, and raising some black babies. It was not until my college education, life in America and ultimately the black lives matter movement did I realize the racism and colorism that was running through the underbelly of my home country. The first time I heard a white boy call a person of color right next to me a ‘nigger’ all the hairs on my body stood up but nobody around me flinched. I, unfortunately, did nothing.
Comparing people with darker skin tones to monkeys, calling black people hair “hard” and “nappy”. The need to straighten your hair when your black and how your seen as more beautiful when you do. Telling me I should not wear red lipstick because its for white people.
One side of the island is Sanicolas also known as chocolate city. Most black Caribbean people live there because residents from neighboring islands moved there to live close to and work in the oil refinery. Growing up Arubans who lived in “Town” the opposite (and more white) side of the island made it seem like it was the “bad” or “poor” side of town because it was the black side. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
A lot of the racism is subtle but the most in your face is the fact that every year Arubans still celebrate “Sinterklaas”
“Sinterklaas: is a legendary figure based on Saint Nicholas, patron saint of children.
The feast of Sinterklaas celebrates the name day of Saint Nicholas on 6 December. The feast is celebrated annually with the giving of gifts on St. Nicholas' Eve (5 December) in the Netherlands
Sinterklaas is assisted by Zwarte Piet ("Black Pete"), a helper dressed in Moorish attire and in blackface. Zwarte Piet first appeared in print as the nameless servant of Saint Nicholas”.
Yes, you read that right. White people dressed in blackface to act as the servant to Saint Nicholas.
Even though in recent years has sparked major controversy over this holiday some refuse to acknowledge that this is indeed racism but prefer to remain in ignorant bliss stating that it’s all innocent and tradition. Much like some people in this country.
Living in this country and educating myself on the blood, bigotry, violence, and systemic racism this country was built on has made me look back at the racism faced back home but it has also strengthened my blackness. I admire and salute my brothers and sisters born in the US. A whole system to keep us down but we remain resilient, thriving, and the blueprint as a culture. Much like the beautiful black people of my home island, Aruba
Take a minute to sign the petition to stop the Sinterklaas/black face celebration HERE
