I remember how, when I was in second grade, this white class fellow of mine would openly make fun of my skin color and how she’d tell me I was “gross” because my complexion wasn’t white. That hurt but what’s worse is that she would call my mother “disgusting” and “ugly” and that would make me cry so much. I would stay away from the playground because she’d say things like, “Your mom is brown and ugly!” along with her group of equally racist kids.
What hurts me is that, since I was young and naive, I believed her. I thought that maybe I really am ugly. Maybe mama is ugly and I hate myself for telling my mother to stay away from the school premises whenever she’d come by to pick me after classes were over. “You can’t come over there! Don’t show up, please! I’ll come to the car myself.” I couldn’t tell her why because it was so painful. I think I did it because I was protecting her. I didn’t want anyone laughing at her for any reason. It took a long time to reassure myself that my complexion or race doesn’t make me or my mother ugly or low. It wasn’t easy.
Just shows how racism against colored people can actually force a child to believe her mother is unappealing because she’s not white like the other mothers in the parking lot. It breaks my heart because my mother is beautiful - not just on the inside but outside too. She’s graceful, strong, radiant.
Just one of those memories that will always disturb me.
Ah, yeah, I got this regularly from classmates in primary school. Like, all of them. Even the ones who weren’t white.
