when i was younger, this boy used to tease me about my skin color; how much it resembles coal, and how it makes me look like an Aeta, and how they can't see me in the dark, but even before that i was insecure. because when people bothered to look at me, they'd only see ebony and to them it was synonymous with ugly and *****.
but i don't blame them.
they're just caught in the current of colonialism when we measured oneβs status through the hue of their skin and we followed. we followed their discrimination of the ones whose skin didn't look like the exact duplicate of ivory and marshmallow. we followed their system of supremacy of putting the lighter ones up in the stars to match whiteness with brightness. we followed their standards of beauty which just happened to be the exact ******* opposite of our majority.
now our country is driven mad by the idea of whitening your skin until your heritage is nowhere to be seen; it has been scrubbed off by papaya soap, masked by glutathione and devalued by insults. but hey, who cares about heritage if you look like that European actress? who cares about culture when you could pass off as an American? who cares about natural brown when synthetic white wears the crown?
a poem about the obvious but ignored colorism in the philippines