“Pretty for an African?”

I remember walking across a patch of grass in front of the B. Jones Center at Atlanta’s Emory University a good 12 years ago now. Bright eyed college freshman I was, who had categorically been placed under the “International Students” sub-group…you know; the group that arrives on campus earlier than the rest and endures lecture upon lecture on how to navigate the bus system, the do’s and don’ts of living on American soil and so on. A young African American guy with a Frat jacket on randomly stopped me and asked me where I was from. The conversation went something like this: Me: “Zimbabwe” (…thinking to myself surely guy couldn’t have been loitering about campus asking folks tit-bits about their backgrounds!) Guy: “I’m guessing that’s somewhere in Africa right?” Me: “Yeah, Southern Africa to be exact. If you have ever heard of South Africa, we are right above it” Guy: “Oh okay cool. I thought I should ask because you did not look like you could be from Atlanta. I was thinking Africa or the Islands. I’m Jason, but my frat brothers call me Jay. Has anyone ever told you though, that you are really pretty for an African, plus the accent’s cute too!” Me: #DEAD#CUE.MORTIFIED.FACIALS#FINISHED I’m not sure if he expected cool points or for me to swoon over his confident borderline arrogant bad boy disposition. #Confession: guy was a looker with the carefully trimmed line across his forehead and hazel-colored eyes. Totally the type of guy you have in your head like “Dang!” in a Morris Chestnut movie. Be that as it may, looking back I attribute naivety and the sheer excitement of being a few days old on an American campus in a city I had always wanted to live in; to my not having responded with the rudimentary “And what exactly do you mean by ‘you are really pretty for an African’?

I am a little older now and for sure a lot wiser and have since those many years ago, made a practice of analyzing certain words folks use in jest or subconsciously. Back then I heard a lot of the “You are really this or that….for an African” and did not really dwell on it much. The United States as a nation is an incredible melting pot that one cannot even begin to dissect in one conversation. What has however dawned on me over time, is the issue of black consciousness especially as it relates to women across racial, national and cultural divides. Movies like “For Colored Girls” and Chris Rock’s “Good Hair” have challenged me to question the magnitude of stereotypes that exist concerning women of African descent, juxtaposed with the self-fulfilling prophesies that even we as women carry about ourselves as a result of the influence of popular culture, tradition or the quest to find oneself. Throw in the element of the 18 inch tresses of Brazilian hair that women are forfeiting outstanding bills to wear on their heads and yes…the skin bleaching creams on promotion out there - and the whole equation really leans towards the loco end of the spectrum. Bottom line is beauty is subjective and can be related to so many other things before it’s tied in to the notion of one’s race or culture. So no, it is not a compliment to me to state with enthusiasm how “pretty I am FOR AN AFRICAN” and it was not one back then either. I dare say we still have a long way to go as a people before we can fully understand what real beauty or “pretty” as used by Hazel-eyed Frat boy is truly about; lessons of which begin within.