"Ode to all the Little Dark Skinned Girls who Cry in the Mirror"

( will edit below later---but this is straight off of my heart)

I've seen this many times, but haven't watched it for a while. While recently showing it to a friend, I was reminded of the process of sending "Memories of the Little Elephant to Print. I sent off my file. My printer sent me back a beautiful 1st proof--- everything perfect and vivid!---except one thing---all of my BROWN characters...were now... red--reddish brown. I remember being little, and learning about that fanciful mystical far away land of Egypt... it seemed like a magically creative place--that had      n o t h i n g     to do with Africa in my mind...and definitely nothing to do with me. I was sure.  After all, I would think, ' those people weren't even really black---they were more "red" colored'. When I traveled to Kemet (ancient Egypt) I was able to see first hand image after image after image, painting after painting, sculpture after sculpture of people whose coloring was unmistakably BROWN--DARK BROWN-- almost black...not muddied red and not yellowed,  but  those who looked identical in facial structure and hue to my soil pigmented Mississippi family.--UN APOLOGETICALLY NEGRO,  before that word was born. It dawned on me so clearly then, that every IMAGE we ever look at, is an IMAGE that has been SELECTED to be photographed, selected to be reprinted, selected for advertisement, selected for propaganda.

Sitting and looking at my first proof, and remembering my innocent dismissal of my heritage, it also dawned on me that out of thousands of images to choose from..that I seemed to have always laid eyes on the same ones... think about it, haven't you?

Now at full volume, exasperated over too many failed attempts of trying to say it in a more sophisticated way:
"The problem is-- I sent you a book full of BROWN people--and now all of them are RED!" I had to escalate my complaint all the way up the the printing companies CEO, print and admin team, a phone conference with china-- as they still attempted to "educate" (placate! was all I could hear) me on printing technicalities.    " Uh, Ms. Amenii, yes, yes, we understand, but that is  just they way the color has to appear...it is simply due color separation and print  process."

... perhaps, or rather, I am certain, if I  didn't have such an investment or care---love--and pain in my heart for the issues expressed in this video above, I would have accepted the explanation...as harmless. And not pushed for the FOUR additional attempts, and proofs just to get to an acceptable and unquestionable shade of brown.

I am what is affectionately referred to in the south as "pecan tan"... from a mother who is the color of an almonds center, and a father who is the shade of the images of the Pharaohs I saw painted on everlasting stone. (Made to believe prior that that shade of tree bark, dirt, dusky brown didn't exist in ancient days.)I know where the color of pecans and almonds come from. And, I was clear from the beginning that Abii would be the color my south Sudanese family who are still keeping up the fight for the final wall of African identity to not be penetrated (Never believe the war is about religion). Abii, still came out lighter than her painted raw umber complexion, but at least she is closer to the shade of my father than to the shade of  memories of Georgia's red mud.  Most importantly, I was clear that a little brown girl, would see her self, and all of the bright colors, and in a regal white dress... and see only BEAUTY.

(And though we've never uttered it...and though it feels like a  taboo to speak on to this day...  I do remember standing with you, in the school bathroom mirror at 9 years old--my best friend. --I remember when you cried wishing you weren't so ugly with skin so dark, and lips so big. I pray this post doesn't offend. And though my path --this "crusade for my people" caused our riff... that day you cried...i have not forgotten... and I cry now as I type.... you should know...it  has motivated my movements. (so sick of it.) Ode to all the little dark skinned girls who cry in the mirror! May you see your face as the apex of beauty.) 

Dark Girls: Preview from Bradinn French on Vimeo.