People love labels. People love finding patterns and sorting things into the appropriate places in their minds. People love structure to some degree, and they seek it out in the small and big ways. Hierarchies, classes, groups, cliques, stereotypes, systems, and the like run rampant whether we are fully aware and accepting of that fact or not.
This year, more often than not, I’ve been pointed at and labeled “the white girl” or “american” in different local languages. Children giggle behind their curious whispers and peek around corners to catch glimpses of me doing regular life. I stick out like a sore thumb in most of the places I’ve been to. Not only am I one of the palest people on my squad, but I also have red hair – a rarity.
Back in Africa, all I desperately wanted was to blend in. I wanted people to stop taking pictures of me while I ate breakfast, or worse, while I was still sleeping. I wanted to go to the bathroom without people trying to follow me in to watch. I wanted to sit in church and worship and pray without being seated in a chair in the front facing the entire congregation. I wanted to blend my way into comfortability and social homeostasis. The Lord said no and let me continue to wallow in my awkwardness as I lived regular life like an undiscovered African celebrity followed around by amateur paparazzi.
As the race has progressed, nothing has changed. The degree to which locals have reacted to us has varied, but either way, we don’t blend in. What started in my mind as a curse has slowly unfolded in the hands of the Lord. He showed me that diversity gives me a platform. People don’t usually come to wherever we are because they want to hear about God. They come because we’re foreign. When they arrive, however, they do hear about Jesus. It doesn’t matter why they come, what matters is what we do with their presence and how we invest in the time we are given.
Being white in a land that idolizes fair skin breaks my heart. I have gained so much perspective and insight on the problems colorism presents to the world. I am by no means an expert, but I have looked little girls in the eye as they express to me how beautiful I am and simultaneously felt my heart crumble because somewhere in that statement it is implied that they feel less beautiful than me. It baffles me to see how fiercely women and girls are attacked by the enemy in areas like self image and confidence. I look back into their eyes and try to convey as deeply as possible that they too are equally but differently beautiful and that the difference itself is what contributes to their unique splendor.
A conversation that has come up on our team involves how to be the most effective at making a long term impact when you are only in a place short term. How do you build up the local organizations and leave them better than when you arrived rather than building hype during your stay and then it dwindling? We want to leave a lasting influence rather than just making a momentary impact. These are questions I still don’t have the answers to. Each day I wake up and ask the Lord how to leave behind something that makes a real difference.
These thoughts are scattered around my mind like a messy bedroom or a canvas splattered with various hues of paint. In the background of every social interaction we’ve had, there is always the underlying message that somehow white is better. Whether it is as painfully obvious and cringe-worthy as a billboard advertising “clean, white skin” with a face wash or as subtle as the comments made by little girls, it’s there. I’m trying to wade through the depth of it all and I’m not sure I’ll ever really arrive at a destination, but these are my thoughts on it all as I’m coming to a more clarified understanding of how the world is impacted by colorism.
I am more than just a white girl. You are more than just your hair color. He is more than just his height. She is more than just her weight. Your child is more than just their age. Your mother is more than just her status. Your father is more than just his salary. Your boss is more than just their title. God is more than just our Father.
We are more. Be above the standards the world hands you and remove the labels your mind has placed on the people around you. Honor one another by calling someone by their character – “the kind girl” or “the gracious man” or “the patient mother.” Speaking life by calling people higher and knowing them by their worth rather than their mistakes is what will change the world. Maybe this, over time, is what will turn systems upside-down and create a culture of love that permeates with light the darkest of places.
