Brunettes, mulattoes, tanned, exotic? Not. they are black

Discovering oneself as black involves much more than physical traits, hair and skin color. In a world where little (or nothing) is heard about great black leaders, the other side of black history in Brazil and repeatedly Eurocentric beauty standards are reaffirmed, understanding oneself as black and affirming this to the world is a process long and often painful.

“It may seem like a one-off thing, but it’s a process that unfolds and at some point the penny drops. I already felt things in childhood connected with my skin color and my hair, which were not considered ‘beautiful’, but I couldn’t name them. I could see something, but I didn’t see that it was the fact that I was black. And as much as it was evident, I couldn’t understand it,” he says. Bianca Santana, journalist, professor at Faculdade Cásper Líbero and author of the book “When I Discovered Black“.

There is something in our subjectivity that is very hurt: ‘everyone who looks like that is someone I don’t want to be’

BIANCA SANTANA

The truth is that Brazil is not a country that welcomes “darker skin”: the femicide rate is the highest since 1980, especially among black women, representing a staggering 35% increase since 2006. According to the Map of Violence released by FLACSO Brazil, the tendency is for the index to grow among black women, while among white women it decreases. Racial democracy in Brazil is an illusion. “We have this very wrong idea of ​​racial democracy, of a multiracial country. The black population occupies the same space of subservience as at the time of abolition: there was no movement in this direction. We occupy roles that white people often avoid,” explains Bianca.

The message you get is that it’s not worth being black – and then whitening happens. It is a daily suffering to “hide” the frizzy hair, disguise the features of the face, avoid tanning; it’s knowing that store security guards keep an eye on you. “The whitening process is something we’ve been experiencing for a long time: when you imagine yourself successful, you want to fit the pattern; when you go to buy makeup and you don’t find your tone, or the fact of straightening the hair”, she explains Eliane Seraphim, creator of the General Encrespa project.

For the North American author Bell Hooks, being black is often in the combination of skin color, hair and facial features. As they combine, it’s easier to pass as “white” or not in places – which results in that famous cliché “but you’re not black, you’re brunette/mulatto/tanned/(insert any synonym you’ve heard here)” .

What we’ve learned to find aesthetically beautiful is not what black women are.

BIANCA SANTANA

But how, after all, do you arrive at “I’m black and that’s final”? We talked to some women to better understand this complex, long identity process that proves how important it is for the fight to continue:

Patrícia Avelino, from Vida Crespa channel

“My black identity began to emerge in 2004, when I began to see myself in other black women, such as black li🇧🇷 At home, my family did not insist on this empowerment, but they always taught and talked about racism. Before that, I didn’t like my hair. And I’m not ashamed to say that I didn’t like being black. I had a lot of problems during childhood and adolescence, because I only identified with white women, I only had white friends and I only liked white boys, but I was always the joke at school. So, when I saw that a black woman was beautiful in her naturalness, I wanted to be like that too. I stopped using chemicals on my hair, but I had a relapse in 2007. Starting to relate, sleeping and waking up with someone seeing my curly hair made me stumble on this path towards capillary freedom.

I thought I was 100% sure of the construction of my identity, but I found myself haunted by the words of racism I suffered at school. So again I chemically applied my hair.

I started not seeing myself again, missing the freedom of having my 100% natural curly hair. In 2009 I shaved my head to start from scratch. It was then that I thought that many other black women could also suffer from this, I created my YouTube channel to share my challenges with them. I believed that this way we wouldn’t be alone: ​​neither I nor them. Today I am 100% sure of my identity. Nothing will shake it: so much so that I got a tattoo of the word curly in the arm, because today it is in the head, in the skin, in the soul.”

Jarrid Arraes, string player

“For most of my life, I identified as ‘brunette’ or as ‘mixed race’. My father is black and my mother is blonde, so I was born with lighter skin, but with hair and all facial and physical features understood as black characteristics. I suffered a lot of racism, from bullying at school to situations of discrimination when I went out with my family. My brother, son of my mother’s second marriage, is white. So when we went out together, I was always ‘mistaken’ as my brother’s nanny, even though it was just a kid. Many times I opened the door of my house and they asked where my boss was. Hair, which I straightened for many years, was also the target of cruel racism in society. But it took me many years to understand that I was black, even though my skin tone was lighter. Fortunately, I had the support of other black women, who helped me to study the history of Brazil and the consequences of slavery in our culture, and from there I understood that I was part of something much bigger, that the appreciation of my blackness was a political act of resistance against racism.

It is also important to understand that within the group of people who declare themselves as brown, there are not only black people, but also people of indigenous ancestry. I worked as a census taker on the last Census and interviewed hundreds of people who were visibly black but identified as brown or even white. I checked the option declared by them, but it left a bitter taste in the experience. We still need to fight a lot for racism to stop being an intimidating power and so that we have more opportunities to learn about our origins, the history of the black population in Brazil and the importance of valuing Afro-Brazilian identity. In so many cases, people do not declare themselves black because they are still afraid of the word and what it means to be black in Brazil🇧🇷 If we still live in a culture that associates blackness with derogatory terms and bad qualities, that calls curly hair ‘bad’ and still associates black people with subordinate or even criminal roles, it is difficult to break this stigma.

It’s easier to say ‘moreno’, even if that individual experiences racism every day, even if society sees him as someone black.

When identity is embraced, it becomes an empowering factor. I believe that this is a result of the efforts of the black movement and affirmative action policies that have been generating more and more debates on racial issues and the problem of racism in Brazil. With more access to information, people begin to reflect more deeply on their origins and physical characteristics. We are still a long way from ideal, but we have already made some progress.🇧🇷

Eliane Serafim, creator of the General Encrespa project

“I had surgery and stayed at home for 20 days. When I looked in the mirror, I wanted to ‘see myself’. I straightened my hair for many years, but I realized that it didn’t fit me anymore. At home, we didn’t talk about racism, and when I was a child, I heard things like ‘you won’t achieve anything with that hair’, ‘whoever is born to be a soldier will never be a colonel’. So, I went into the hairdresser and gave the girl R$10 to cut everything. After that my life changed radically! This is not the only way to identify yourself, but it is one of the ways and a strong one. It’s hard for people to realize that frizz is natural: they see it in a very derogatory way, as a sloppiness🇧🇷

The woman needs to be respected in her amplitude, to be able to choose to do what she wants with her hair!

It’s a process that involves discovery and empowerment – ​​even more so where it hurts. Especially because the black woman also suffers at home: being devalued by her family, by her partner is something that hurts her more than by others. It turns out that this choice is not just for the hair, it is for the skin itself. And seeing yourself outside of that is a painful movement, but very rewarding. In the end you feel more capable of doing things.

This change made me reborn: I am a fuller, more confident woman, I have become blacker, I feel complete in what I do. I specialized in hair therapy (tricology) and I wanted to help people with their pain. They put on a turban, makeup and you don’t know where to look from so many beautiful people. It’s trying to make people feel stronger. Today, the general Encrespa project is in 22 cities and seven countries: the pains are very similar, the place changes, but the context is the same. We need to go back to our roots.”

MC Soffia, rapper

At just 11 years old and with a lot of style, MC Soffia has been ~destroying~ prejudice wherever she goes. Her songs have lyrics that point out how racism affects the daily lives of black women, children and men. “Blacks suffer racism in Brazil because whites think they own the country, that they can go around cursing, but in fact Brazil belongs to the Indians. Just because they enslaved blacks and Indians doesn’t mean it’s okay to make a joke”, she says, in an interview via WhatsApp.

Soffia’s raps, like little black girl, teach that it is beautiful and there is nothing wrong with being black and having curly hair: “Little black girl / Exotic is not beautiful / You are not pretty / You are a queen”. It’s nice to see a child empowering himself, telling (and singing) to the world that his color does not limit his growth – and even better to see that the world has also gained incredible references for more girls like Soffia.

Being black for me is being proud of my color, my hair, my mouth, everything. I’m not ashamed, I like to be like that. I already had, but today I like myself the way I am!

MC SOFFIA

Nayla Ribeiro, photographer

Nayla Ribeiro fell in love with photography in 2013, and also with sensual women’s shoots. For her, this is the way to demonstrate and explore all the beauty that each one has, with its particularities. “These rehearsals delight me! I just help them discover themselves,” she explains. She decided to create the project Women of Roots to show all the strength, beauty and universe of black beauty. Some photos of the project illustrate this report.

“I’m 23 years old and I spent my entire adolescence hearing that straight hair was beautiful, that curly hair was something poor people didn’t have money to straighten. It’s complicated, there are many people who say that racism is in our heads or say that it’s silly. When I learned that this was a prejudice, I decided to accept myself… and I have been for almost a year now…