The Beauty In Our Blackness By Dassy Kemedjio I love being Black. I love the coil of my hair, the curves of my hips, and the deepness of my melanin. I cherish the richness of my heritage, the vibrancy of my culture, and the resilience of my people. I appreciate all of these facets of myself that culminate in my identity, the person that I truly am. But sometimes, I can’t help but wonder: what does it truly mean to be Black? This category was assigned to us based upon the color of our skin, this racial stratification that was imposed on our ancestors by those who perceived them as “lesser than.” I am Black, but beyond that I am Cameroonian, and beyond that, I am a descendant of the Bamileke people—but you would never know that by looking at me. I have struggled with this question for what it seems like my entire life, and I believe that I still don’t have a complete answer. However, this long journey of introspection regarding this part of my identity—my Blackness—has led me to several revelations about myself, my people, and my place in this world. Hopefully, in sharing some of this self-discovery, I will answer questions that you might have posed to yourself at any given point in your life. My truth comes from accepting my Blackness as a part of me, but certainly not the whole of me. What I mean by that is, I am so much more than the color of my skin while simultaneously, I can’t imagine myself being any other way—and I’m so grateful for that. Recognizing the beauty in my Blackness means that I draw strength from my community and that I rely on a millennium of tradition. It also means that I am always re-inventing what it means to be Black. I am a young Black woman who loves hip hop as much as indie pop, who likes eating anything from soul food to sushi, and someone who enjoys competitive swimming just as much as a three-on-three basketball (though I can’t promise that I’m any good). I say all of this, all while being conscious of the fact that Black people were historically banned from swimming pools, largely excluded from pop music for decades, and the soul food we know and love today was created out of necessity because of slavery. This is where the true beauty lies. Black people know how to create anything out of nothing, and we have been given centuries and centuries of nothing. We create joy when we are given pain, opportunity when we are given rejection, and love when we are given hate. That is what makes me proud to be Black, and to not shy away from the categorization—despite the way that we are portrayed, there is no shame in being Black. There is, and can only ever be, pride in the fact. My existence as a Black woman does not hinder me, even though the world has historically tried to make it so. My Blackness allows me to breathe, it permits me to thrive, and it makes me shine.
Renegade Magazine Fall '19 Issue.indd 32
12/11/19 3:19 PM
