Being a ‘humble color’ is not the insult that you think it is

Living within the Hispanic community in the United States is difficult, especially with today’s current political climate and attitudes toward Hispanics. As a child, battling racist stereotypes through school and life was challenging. Being so aware of your skin color, heritage and cultural differences is very alienating and causes multiple identity issues that you have to work through in the future. 

On top of this, it is saddening to say that the Hispanic community has colorist stereotypes it pushes onto their people. Not all Hispanics participate in this, but enough to where it is an issue that multiple people have trauma from it, and even develop self-hate against their skin. Colorism is the practice of favoring lighter skin over darker skin, rooted in racism and slavery.

 One of the first instances that I could vividly remember was playing outside in the sun as a child and being told that I couldn’t. There must have been a valid reason as to why I had to stay in the shade, such as the sun being harmful. Upon asking why I couldn’t be in the sun, I was told it was because my skin would get too dark. 

An instance that has forever stuck with me was during my quinceañera. I had always dreamed of having a rose-themed party and having a bright rose-red puffy dress with gold detailing. When it came time to start dress shopping, I notified the people helping me shop that I wanted a rose-red dress. To my surprise, and at the expense of my 15-year-old heart, I was not met with the same enthusiasm I had. 

 I was told that rose-red was not my color and that it would make me look too dark. My world was shattered and my dreams destroyed, a little dramatic for a 15-year-old but my quinceañera was the biggest thing to happen to me up to that point. I settled for an aqua-blue color and a beach-themed party, but my love for a red dress stuck to the back of my mind like an itch I couldn’t scratch.  

For my sweet 16 birthday trip, I told my family that I was going to wear a red dress and that if I didn’t get it no one would be enjoying the trip. I did get my red dress, and it is still my favorite dress ever. 

Throughout my life, as I have educated myself, my anger and frustration turned into pity and understanding. I understood that colorism was a plague that ran so deep in the Hispanic community it dates back to colonial times. 

During the 16 century, when Spanish colonization was happening all over Central America, the racial “casta” was created, the socio-racial classification hierarchy system of the Spaniards. The whiter, full-blooded Spaniards were at the top, followed by 16 different “mixes” of races. Essentially, the more white your skin was, the higher you were on the system of privilege. 

Hispanics also have a multitude of names that further divide skin colors, but if you ask me, I think this is just a modernized version of the Spaniard’s racial caste system. “Prieta,” “Morena,” “Triguena” and “Negra” are only some of the names put onto others to categorize their skin color. Allegedly, these terms are meant to give a name to different levels of skin color, from brown to darker brown. However, no one really knows the true meaning of these terms, and they are often used interchangeably among skin tones.

I have been called dark-skinned, black-skinned, brown-skinned, and multiple other names meant for skin darker than mine. Being called dark-skinned does not upset me, what upsets me is that these are meant to be an insult. In the Hispanic community, it is a “privilege” to have whiter skin. The closer to white, the more you can insult those “below” you. 

A few weeks ago, I was called “Negra” by an old classmate of mine. “Negra” means black woman, but it also has become a term of endearment within the Hispanic community. In the mouth of this old classmate, however, it was not a term of endearment. They took a picture of their hand and compared their hand to mine and said, “To me, you are black, you are burnt, you’re a humble color.” For reference, I have a caramel-brown skin tone. 

This interaction brought back all the anger that I have accumulated over the years of people telling me disgusting things about my skin color. The term “humble color” has been used as an insult by the whiter individuals in the Hispanic community. It stems from the notion that darker-skinned individuals work in the sun and have humble, poor upbringings and live in villages. 

My entire life I have been told to marry a white man with blue eyes. This is so my children are born with a lighter skin tone, and that I should not taint it by marrying a darker-skinned man. Disgust and anger fill my soul just thinking about those disgusting people saying that to me. Colorism is engraved into some people’s brains. Skin bleaching, colored eye contacts and “lightening” creams are only a few of the “solutions” that I have been offered. 

My skin color is not a negative thing. It is not something that makes me less than. I adore my skin color and I love sunbathing. My skin needs the sun to survive, and if I catch a tan that is not a bad thing. Hispanics come in all shades of skin tones, and it is something we should embrace, not further divide ourselves about.

We need to deconstruct these negative stereotypes and racial castes we put on ourselves and our community. To the colorists of the world, please learn to love your skin, it is a sad life that you will live if you continue to self-hate. Do better.