Essay On Blackness

For all intents and purposes, I am Black; proudly so. I am NOT African-American. No doubt, I am a person of color, but I do not allow myself to claim a whole continent's worth of heritages, cultures, traditions, backgrounds, and customs. Recognizing that a vast portion of my heritage was lost to history, my use of the umbrella term Black is magnanimous. My direct lineage is unclear. My family has become a large melting pot of many different groups of people. But to America, I am Black; proudly so. Often times, it is difficult to find makeup colors that compliment my brown skin complexion, or hair products that are aimed towards my kinky-curly-coarse hair. As a result of recent events, like the police killings of multiple unarmed Black people, I often

Blackness has more face value than just the amount of melanin in one's skin. The culmination of my people's songs, dances, hairstyles, clothes, slang, etc created a force that extends far beyond the domain of the favorable reception that it actually receives. Blackness, it seems, is a cultural phenomenon. It's "trendy." It's "cool." Cultural appropriation will never sit right with me. When I see Eurocentric models strutting down high fashion runways with cornrows in their hair, I grow more disheartened with society. Black hairstyles, like dreadlocks or cornrows, on the heads of Black people lead to no jobs and prejudiced stereotyping. Black hairstyles on the heads of white people lead to New York, Paris, and Milan Fashion Week. Why is my Blackness acceptable only for people who are not Black? Miley Cyrus dances provocatively and plunges the world into the era of dancing sexually, freely and carelessly. Nicki Minaj performs in a similar fashion and is condemned for her actions. Kylie Jenner receives lip fillers to achieve fuller, poutier lips; takes the world by storm. An internet trend is even created to mimic her borderline exasperating