“Saaf Rang” in Urdu/Hindi translates to “Clean Color”–in reference to light-colored skin.
I had an interesting thought the other day. If you read this blog, I talk about race quite a bit. Racism in terms of white privilege, racism directed against immigrants, African Americans, and the like. But as I’ve come to discover, the spotlight is a wee bit more uncomfortable when it is directed against yourself. I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for the last couple of weeks, and I finally decided to go ahead and address it.
It all began a few months ago when I mentioned to someone that I was going to a local makeup store to buy a bronzer.
Me: “I just got this new bronzer. I totally wanna be darker.”
Friend: “But you have the skin tone every Indian girl wants! Why?!”
Ah, the light-skin thing in Indian culture. Something I love to bitch about, except in this case- I’m the one with the privilege…which makes for great food for thought. I’m a “lighter-skinned” South Asian chick (On the “lighter” end of very wide skin color spectrum that exists on the Subcontinent).
White privilege isn’t something limited to the United States. Sure, it takes on a whole new malignant dimension when you consider the ways in which white privilege was written into the law. In India, preference for light skin color wasn’t grounds for legal discrimination–but it has been deeply rooted in our social fabric for centuries. From what I’ve read about the nature of white privilege in the United States, it is the idea that having white skin and being perceived as “white” comes with inherent social advantages. The kicker is, if you were born with this advantage, it becomes so innate and integral to the way you function in society that it is normal and unquestioned. It is something that you simply have never been without.
I didn’t grow up as a “White” person in America. I did, however, grow up as a light-skinned, (in the eyes of others) ambiguously South Asian person. And in the Indian culture, being a light skinned female comes with profound advantages. You’re considered better looking. Wealthier, higher-class. More marriageable. And that’s just in America. In India, it’s another story: “Saaf rang” puts you at a higher social strata, period. Case in point, I remember going jewelry shopping with my mother (who is even more lighter than I am). We entered the store behind a group of dark-skinned women. Who do you think got waited on first, despite being the last in?
I have to admit, this is something that I didn’t really consider until I got into college and was forced to question all of my old ideas. Without even thinking about it, my light-skin was a social advantage in the world I was growing up in–be it in America or India. I had many dark-skinned friends–Indian, African American and the like who didn’t have this advantage, and many of the South Asian girls who were more “tan” were raised in a culture that devalued them. I had grown up secure in a position near the upper echelon of that social hierarchy, and the thought of losing that privilege scared me.
I wonder, what will the attitudes of second-gen Indians be about this issue? Are we going to preserve the “colorism” hierarchy of our parents, where lighter-skinned people occupy the top? Or does America in its “post-racial” (that’s a huge point of debate!) reality afford us a chance to redo this social construct? I vote for the latter.
Colorism in the media: Check out Beyonce’s mucho-lightened ad for L’Oreal.
“Saaf Rang”
Posted in social commentary with tags beauty, Desi culture on September 28, 2009 by Sultana“Saaf Rang” in Urdu/Hindi translates to “Clean Color”–in reference to light-colored skin.
I had an interesting thought the other day. If you read this blog, I talk about race quite a bit. Racism in terms of white privilege, racism directed against immigrants, African Americans, and the like. But as I’ve come to discover, the spotlight is a wee bit more uncomfortable when it is directed against yourself. I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for the last couple of weeks, and I finally decided to go ahead and address it.
It all began a few months ago when I mentioned to someone that I was going to a local makeup store to buy a bronzer.
Me: “I just got this new bronzer. I totally wanna be darker.”
Friend: “But you have the skin tone every Indian girl wants! Why?!”
Ah, the light-skin thing in Indian culture. Something I love to bitch about, except in this case- I’m the one with the privilege…which makes for great food for thought. I’m a “lighter-skinned” South Asian chick (On the “lighter” end of very wide skin color spectrum that exists on the Subcontinent).
White privilege isn’t something limited to the United States. Sure, it takes on a whole new malignant dimension when you consider the ways in which white privilege was written into the law. In India, preference for light skin color wasn’t grounds for legal discrimination–but it has been deeply rooted in our social fabric for centuries. From what I’ve read about the nature of white privilege in the United States, it is the idea that having white skin and being perceived as “white” comes with inherent social advantages. The kicker is, if you were born with this advantage, it becomes so innate and integral to the way you function in society that it is normal and unquestioned. It is something that you simply have never been without.
I didn’t grow up as a “White” person in America. I did, however, grow up as a light-skinned, (in the eyes of others) ambiguously South Asian person. And in the Indian culture, being a light skinned female comes with profound advantages. You’re considered better looking. Wealthier, higher-class. More marriageable. And that’s just in America. In India, it’s another story: “Saaf rang” puts you at a higher social strata, period. Case in point, I remember going jewelry shopping with my mother (who is even more lighter than I am). We entered the store behind a group of dark-skinned women. Who do you think got waited on first, despite being the last in?
I have to admit, this is something that I didn’t really consider until I got into college and was forced to question all of my old ideas. Without even thinking about it, my light-skin was a social advantage in the world I was growing up in–be it in America or India. I had many dark-skinned friends–Indian, African American and the like who didn’t have this advantage, and many of the South Asian girls who were more “tan” were raised in a culture that devalued them. I had grown up secure in a position near the upper echelon of that social hierarchy, and the thought of losing that privilege scared me.
I wonder, what will the attitudes of second-gen Indians be about this issue? Are we going to preserve the “colorism” hierarchy of our parents, where lighter-skinned people occupy the top? Or does America in its “post-racial” (that’s a huge point of debate!) reality afford us a chance to redo this social construct? I vote for the latter.
Colorism in the media: Check out Beyonce’s mucho-lightened ad for L’Oreal.
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