My Skin is Sin

Six year old Kenya is getting off the school bus with her head held down and a frown on her face. “Hi baby.” Says her mother Carla as she walks past her without acknowledgement. “What’s the matter?” Carla asked. Kenya stormed upstairs without answering her and went straight to the bathroom next to her bedroom. Kenya closed the bathroom door and stared into the mirror above the sink with tears in her eyes. All she could feel was despair as she stared at her reflection.

Kenya then reached down and opened the door to the counter under sink and found a can of comet. It came to mind that she saw her father cleaning with it before and she sprinkled some in her hand. After briefly looking at the white powdery substance in her hand, she slowly started rubbing it across her face. After making sure her face was covered she looked in the mirror above the sink and saw the substance fading away. She was hoping that it would be permanent.

She looked back in the counter and found a jug of Clorox bleach sitting next to the comet. She remembered a conversation that her mother had with her about bleach keeping white clothes white and being able to fade out colors. Kenya then took a wash cloth off the rack next to tub and carefully started pouring bleach on it. Once the rag was soaked she started rubbing it on her bare arms. As she raised the rag to her face to rub it on, the smell of the chemical entered her nose and made her start to cough repeatedly. As she moved her face away from the cloth her eyes suddenly became irritated and started watering.

Hearing the commotion from the other side of the door her mother entered the bathroom and was horrified at site in front of her. “OH MY GOD!!! KENYA BABY WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Carla asked while quickly taking the bleached rag out of Kenya’s hand. “”Sweetie what were you doing?” Asked a tearful Carla as she picked Kenya up and set her on the bathroom countertop. Carla took another rag that she soaked in water from the sink faucet and started washing Kenya’s face. “I was just tryna wash my skin off.” Kenya said tearfully.

Carla stared at Kenya in a brief and puzzled silence. “Honey these chemicals are dangerous and you could’ve been hurt really bad. Why in God’s name would you be trying to wash your skin off?” “Because today at school a little boy came up to me and said…” “What did he say?” Carla asked curiously. “He said n*ggers are dirty and I would be better if I was white.” Carla’s heart dropped in pain.

“I don’t ever wanna hear you use that word again.” Carla began. “That word is filled with ignorance and hate and that is not what you are. Kenya wipes her eyes and nodded in agreement. “You are a beautiful Black baby, you’re my baby.” “But mommy I thought if I could make my skin white then other kids wouldn’t pick on me like that again.” Replied a tearful Kenya.

“Kenya baby, you can’t make your skin another color and you shouldn’t want to make your skin another way. You are perfect just the way you are. Good made you just as beautiful as everyone else. Those children were poisoned to believe those untrue things about you. As a Black child you come from a legacy of queens.”

“Queens like who?” Kenya asked. “Like Harriet Tubman who created the Underground Railroad which led our enslaved ancestors to freedom. Like Bessie Colman who was the first Black woman to become a pilot and Mary Jackson who was first Black female engineer to work for NASA, the station that sends people to space.” Kenya was amazed at this history lesson from her mother. “Wow!” Kenya said with amazement. “Are there more Black women like them?” “Yes.” Carla replied with a soft smile. “Mama’s gonna teach you all about them.”

Carla picked Kenya up and began walking her to her room. “My baby Kenya.” Carla began while looking Kenya in her eyes. “I have felt the pain that you are feeling right now. I had to learn that my Black is beautiful and so is yours. I am going to teach you how beautiful you are and I promise you that your skin is not a sin.”

When they made it to Kenya’s room Carla took Kenya to the heart shaped mirror sitting on her dresser. “Look in the mirror.” Carla commanded. Kenya looked in the mirror as her mother directed. “Repeat after me.” Carla started. “My Black is beautiful.” “My Black is beautiful.” Kenya repeated. “I was perfectly made.” Carla began. “I was perfectly made.” Kenya repeated. “And my skin is not a sin.” Carla continued. “My skin is not a sin.” Kenya concluded. Kenya then looked into her mother’s eyes with hope as they shared a big hug.