Learning to Listen #19 - Sulwe

This week I read the picture book, Sulwe, by Lupita Nyong'o. This semi-biographical account of coming to terms with a young girl's skin colour is so poetically told and marvelously illustrated it could be a stunning art exhibit.

I want to dwell on the heartwarming, magical, beautiful elements of this story. I want to sit with the characters of night and day as they explore the idea of light and beauty within. But instead I have a painful twinge of the necessity of this story. From my most recent readings, I have a greater understanding that Black is only Black because White is White. The hierarchy we created that to have light skin is better than black skin is a terrible legacy. To be faced with the reality that all these centuries later little girls still grow up hearing and believing that white skin is superior to black. My 21st century self gapes in disbelief, not understanding how such an arbitrary physical scale could ever have been created. But my 21st century self also now understands exactly how such an arbitrary physical scale was created. The ugliness of economic greed, of laziness and selfishness, of the 60/40 rule (which was actually a 100/0 rule). Our ancestors wanted land and profits and exerted force over those who stood in their way, or those they sensed they could exploit. What a shameful history we have. What a farce this "land of the free," where rights were determined by skin colour. How absurd to assign value to my red hair, or to the colour of my eyes, or to my height (or lack thereof). How is it that the White Christian religion, designed to be the great equalizer of humankind, was instead a crutch to prop up racist systems? How did we get here, instead of down the other path of community and service and lifting all of us together?

I feel more anger and shame on my journey now than ever before. Shame to be connected to such a past, and anger for the consequences of that past that won't seem to be altered.

But Sulwe - just as in this story we hear the story of night and day, the light and the darkness and the gifts each gives us, I see the two paths the white and Black people are walking. This book was written to help Black children see that they are beautiful too (oh the ugly lie we have told and they have believed!). But it is also written so that I may acknowledge the ugly reason a book like this had to be written and work even harder to change the narrative.

In the author's own words:

"Night returned and the people rejoiced. 'We need the darkest night to get the deepest rest. We need you so that we can grow and dream and keep our secrets to ourselves.' The stars chimed in, 'Brightness isn't just for daylight. Light comes in all colors. And some light can only be seen in the dark.' While Day had a golden glow, with Night everything had a silver sheen, elegant and fine. Day told her sister, 'When you are darkest is when you are most beautiful. It's when you are most you.'"

From the Author's note:

"The journey I went on was very different from Sulwe's nighttime adventure, but the lesson was the same: There is so much beauty in this world and inside you that others are not awake to. Don't wait for anyone to tell you what is beautiful. know that you are beautiful because you choose to be. Know that you always were and always can be. Treasure it and let it light the way in everything you do."