Hitam Manis

This is difficult to write, but it's definitely an important one amidst all the conversations we've been having lately. Growing up being brown/Malay wasn't easy, especially when it became ingrained in me that having a darker skin tone by default, is less desired than fairer skin tones. In childhood, I couldn't recall having to endure comments about my skin colour. Thankfully amongst children, these values ascribed to lightness and darkness didn't yet come to the fore. This consciousness became more obvious since secondary school. And it was tough and painful. 

I've been in a sports CCA since secondary school and I couldn't really avoid not becoming tanned. What hurts the most was even my peers at that time would make comments about my skin colour without even realising the damage caused from these words. These comments I recall, were sometimes made under the guise of humour. I was called 'budak hitam' (literally means 'black child') and even the so-called compliments given on my physical appearance were tied to my skin tone i.e. 'hitam manis', which literally means black sweetness, referring to darker skinned people as cute or sweet despite their skin tone. It's as if a person's features and appearance cannot be appreciated beyond the emphasis of the colour of their skin. This is similar to comments like, "Wah she's really pretty for a dark-skinned person" or "Her fair skinned is beautiful". Sometimes comments such as 'hitam manis' seem self-serving in order to make people feel better how about THEY perceived me, by thinking that it would make me feel better, whilst still putting skin colour at the centrestage. At that time, I hated being dark brown and I used products like Nivea Skin Whitening and Fair & Lovely. Obviously these were not sustainable because I was basking under the sun on a regular basis. When there were comments about my skin that came my way, I just learnt to swallow them all in and move on. It's unfortunate that I myself had internalised these so-called values of lightness and darkness and as a result, had to suffer from insecurities about my physical appearance growing up. 

Another crucial critique I would like to make is the domino-effect this has on ethnic minority communities, in terms of how we learn to associate skin colour to race and their ascribed values, as well as how we (Malays) perceive ourselves in relation to other coloured ethnic minorities such as Indians. This critique is firstly on Malays, and how ethnic minorities ourselves can reproduce the same kind of rhetoric towards others. Let us all recall those jokes and racist and prejudiced terms which were used against our Indian peers, even by Malays. Unfortunately, I was also socialised to think that being called "Indian" is a negative thing due to its association with a darker skin tone, although I recognise the diversity that exists within the larger "Indian" umbrella. In my personal experiences, when Malays had called me an Indian by virtue of my skin colour, and with all due respect to my Indian peers, I felt offended when people ascribe an ethnicity to me. As much as I love many things related to the Indian culture such as the food and films, I would vehemently refute when I was called an Indian. 

During junior college, a Malay friend told me, "Before I met you, I thought you're an Indian muslim minah". I laughed it off and also explained that I have some Indian-ness in me as my grandma is half Indian (she is either a bengali or punjabi, I need to clarify on this). But even so, I still had a knee-jerk response when another Malay friend asked, "Are you Indian?". I immediately asked, "Is it because I'm dark?". She said, "Well it's not just that, but your features etc". That was when I realised that there can be more to what some people see and I could try to be less reactive and defensive when people made these comments. I suppose to some extent, I can understand people's innocence in trying to identify me along clear-cut racial terms. But this often makes me feel very uncomfortable given that I was conscious of the negative connotations behind certain comments. It is not because I have personal grudges against my dear Indian peers, but rather the social colourings attached to it has been negative, and especially when Malays themselves ascribe that negativity in subtle ways.

While I didn't parrot that kind of prejudice or racism towards Indians, I also realised that I had perhaps subconsciously looked at darker skinned people to feel better about my brown skin. In society where being dark is seen as unworthy, this perhaps was an unfortunate way of coping and affirming oneself based on colour comparisons. I remember the times when some friends would align their arms next to mine to compare skin tones. This certainly made me examine and reflect all these notions at such a young age: why do we (Malays and Indians) have to be seen negatively just because of the colour of our skin, and even have to put each other down because of it? Unfortunately, this gaze towards the darker skinned individuals must not rest on notions of mere sympathy, because, it translates as power dynamics based on deterministic and inherent traits like the colour of our skin and our features. This has disastrous consequences especially when we perpetuate similar thinking along the spectrum of darkness and blackness, and further implicating on our brothers and sisters from the African and Caribbean communities. Even in the glorification of whiteness, non-whites and darker skinned people are inadvertently being perceived as less favourably.

This proximity towards whiteness exists in our very own backyard. I was surrounded by comments that reinforce these positive values ascribed to fairness of the skin. When I stopped playing touch rugby nearing the examinations and ceased getting myself baked, I received comments like, "Wah you're becoming fairer huh" which were said in a positive light. In my early 20s, I also received comments like "Oh actually you're not that brown or dark". Beneath those comments, lies the assumption that it's better to be fairer, and therefore positioning darkness as an inherently negative thing. In Junior College, my closest of friends are Indians. Some of them went to the same university and we often hung out. I recall a friend who is Malay, asking me innocently, "How come you hang out with Indians? I thought usually we hang out with Chinese." I felt that there's something really disturbing about this comment and there are two layers to it. One, that there is an assumed higher value of the majority race as compared to a minority race. Two, again the reinforcement that, we (as in Malays) are not the worst of all in this hierarchy, and should aspire 'higher'. There seems to be this tendency for ethnic minorities in various contexts, to try to gain proximity to the dominant race, perhaps almost an imitation in terms of their speech, dressing, lifestyle in general and peer choices. Don't get me wrong, I'm not intending to create any frictions here with the Chinese counterparts, but rather, to highlight how we have internalised that fairer skin, and in turn the associated ethnic group, is seen as more positive and desirable. This affects how we perceive our social standing, even if it is attained by-proxy. This has serious ramifications on how people of colour are constantly perceived.

In present-day, me marrying a Nigerian-British thankfully did not receive any strong opposition or uproar. But I still receive comments which made me (over)think about the connotations, meaning and intentions behind them. Some of these comments may perhaps be well-meaning, such as commenting that my mixed-race child would have beautiful curls, or, even speculating the skin colour of my mixed-race child. While I seemed easy at the receiving end of these comments, I do take them with a pinch of salt. Allow me to explain using hair as an example. 

From an early age, I learnt that one's hairstyle is linked to connotations behind a particular race or ethnic group. Terms such as "malay hair" and "indian hair" have been used. Growing up, comments I received such as "your hair is curly" from Chinese hairdressers or friends, were offensive to me, because firstly, I have mixed wavy-straight hair, secondly, I associated 'curly' to that of an Indian hairstyle (based on people's perceptions, and my observations at that time, which was inaccurate of course) which I perceived negatively, unfortunately. Growing up, the straight hair was always seen as desirable, and those who were not born with naturally straight hair seemed to love the idea of straightening and even "rebonding" their hair. Wavy and curly hair are seen as unruly, difficult to manage and generally less beautiful than straight hair at that time. Having said that, I still resisted doing anything to my hair because I refused to bow down to such standards, even though I secretly wished some strands of my hair were straighter. Even now when shifts have taken place with perming and curly and wavy hair being seen as beautiful and more desirable, I still feel the residual negativity attached to having a not-fully straight hair, no matter how contented I am with my hair. So the moments when I hear peers making comments about the kind of hair my hypothetical mixed-race child would have, I would stop to wonder if such connotations and undertones towards black communities exist behind what seemed like a positive comment about hair. Even in adulthood, when people say things like "your hair has gotten curly" I still find it offensive because I wonder if there is a tiny hint of prejudiced undertones beneath them.

This of course, cannot be discussed without speaking about how the majority race is complicit in using their dominance and power in influencing and setting standards and norms on many things, including those discussed above; the colour of the skin, the texture of the hair, the products manufactured. The majority race benefits from the system which favours their language, appearance, looks, dressing style, culture and their overall taste and preferences, thereby putting ethnic minorities at a big disadvantage. Internalised racism cannot be blamed purely on those who experience and even perpetuate the phenomenon, without critiquing the very system that gives birth to such phenomenon in the first place. 

I suppose, this is the kind of internal dialogue I would have from time to time as a brown ethnic minority who navigates herself in society rife of these ascribed values towards lightness and blackness, alongside values attached to other physical traits and features. My only call for action for those reading this is perhaps to be more conscious about the things we say especially when we speak about a person's physical appearance, such as skin colour, hair, features, and also the associated cultural markers such as diet, lifestyle, custom, etc. Perhaps for the Malay community, we should abolish terms like 'hitam manis' which places emphasis on the colour. Having said this, I do not subscribe to the notion of colour-blindedness, but rather to see colour, and not have to use it as base standard for beauty, status, and most importantly, dignity.