Skin Deep?

The Anti-Racist Parent again - ah, I love that blog!

The latest post (with content, there's a super cute photo there too!) is about non-white Barbies and whether they actually help or hurt the anti-racist parent cause. The author looks at how many of these dolls are either Caucasian Barbies made dark-skinned, with the same featues as the Barbie feminists love to hate, or if they are perpetuating racial stereotypes in an almost cartoonish fashion.

I find it difficult to comment on these types of things, because I really have no understanding or experience of what it is like to be discriminated against because of my race or ethnicity. I have some experience with sexism, but I really don't think that's comparable. My husband and I have nothing but Caucasian blood on either side of our family tree as far as the eye can see - we're about as un-diverse as you can get. We have the look of the perfect postcard family, especially my kids who fit right in with the cultural idea of what is attractive. My daughter is three years old, tall and thin, with olive skin, big hazel eyes and perfectly chiseled features. My son is six months, and is often described as a "Gerber baby" - chubby cheeks, big blue eyes, long eyelashes, platinum blond hair, and a smiley disposition.

As I read the article and comments that were discussing the experience of constantly being told that we aren't "pretty" because of dark skin, curly hair, a non-Barbie-ish figure or whatever, I kept finding myself thinking about the children on the other side of the coin. When someone comments to me about how pretty or cute my kids are I find myself a little put off. Of course, I'm only human and love that my kids are getting positive attention, but I also find the implications of these comments to be more than a little distasteful.

When I was a kid, I was definitely not pretty or cute. I had dark stringy hair that was usually in knots, freckles, and buck teeth. I was into everything and was usually dressed in utilitarian, rather than attractive, clothing. I was very serious and didn't have much in common with other kids, but adults usually didn't know quite what to make of me either so I was usually pretty lonely. My sister, on the other hand, had huge blue eyes, blond ringlets, and a sparkling personality. She loved to dance around and wear twirly pink dresses. People were constantly commenting how pretty and adorable she was - while they totally ignored me. They never said anything negative to or about me, but the rejection was stinging.

So when people who don't know my kids at all comment positively on their appearance, I am brought back to that moment. Sure, they're easy on the eyes, but I don't want people to notice them only for that reason. Likewise, I feel for the kids who, for whatever reason, don't draw the same attention and whose inner gifts go unnoticed because of that. The implication that is made when people notice my children's appearance is that there are other kids who aren't beautiful, which simply is not true. All kids are amazing, beautiful miracles and should be acknowledged as such. I don't want other kids to ever feel that they are less important because they don't fit the description of beauty that is commonly accepted in the time or place they inhabit, but neither do I want my own children to feel more important because they do.

Of course, we could get into the argument against praise of any kind here, but I won't. I just hope that if you ever run into us on the street, you'll notice some other things about my kids - my daughter is sensitive, enthusiastic (maddeningly so!), and notices detail to the degree that some might call her anal, and my son is easygoing, observant and really attached to routine. And they're really cute - but I can say that, I'm their mother!