Representation Really Does Matter

A few nights ago, I watched the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show in the hopes of getting enough motivation to go to the gym, just like I do every year. I tune in, hate myself, eat healthy and workout for a month at most, then go back to my normal life fraught with naps and fast food. Why? Well, of course because my laziness kicks in again after awhile, but mostly due to the fact that I can always write off my inability to look like a model as not being a skinny white girl or "exotic" foreigner. Year after year, the only Angels to grace my screen were pale, foreign, or really light-skinned Black girls. No one was darker than a paper bag.

However, someone new took the runway this year.

I fell in love instantly and rushed to Google to learn more about this stunning young woman who shared the same skin tone I did. Her name is Maria Borges, and she's twenty-two year-old model from the South African country of Angola. (Apparently, she'd appeared in the 2013 fashion show, but I must have been turned away from the TV when she was on, because I definitely would have noticed her). I just could not believe that  there was a Victoria's Secret Angel who looked like me. That moment changed me. I didn't have an excuse anymore.

I've shared my issues with colorism on here, but I didn't really talk about how important it is for Black girls with darker skin to see themselves in the media. It's already enough of a struggle to see any women of color, but dark ones are few and far between. Little dark-skinned girls need to be able to see themselves on TV and in magazines. We need to know that we're also viewed as beautiful.


I could wax poetic about this topic, but I think this gifset of Janelle Monae, the epitome of a carefree Black girl, during an interview with Queen Latifah, says it all:

Representation matters.

My Truth

Well, it sure has been awhile since I've posted. I wish I had a better excuse than lack of motivation but that's all it is. However, I just had to voice my opinions on recent events in America. My heart is just heavy with all of the injustices happening to Black people in this country. I plan on marrying a Black man- yeah, I've seen the light- and eventually raising a Black child in this country. How am I supposed to do this knowing that they will have targets on their backs simply because of the color of their skin?

These events have made me realize just how many of my White "friends" view the issue of race in America. Now I know that they don't view me as Black when we're joking and laughing about trivial matters because I fit in. I was one of them. But after the terrible decision not to indict Darren Wilson for the murder of Mike Brown, I found my voice again. I wasn't quiet and docile like they wanted me to be, and no one really appreciated my "sudden change." People began to disrespect me and invalidate my opinions on race; people who I thought were my friends.

It hurt me to my core. I pride myself on being practically emotionless, but seeing these people I trusted with my life reveal their true colors brought an excruciating pain I never want to experience again. It opened my eyes. Yes, this blog is called "Diary of a Token Black Girl," but I never knew that the label I'd halfheartedly given myself was how people really viewed me. To them, I am the sassy Black friend who dresses like them, talks like them, but can get "ghetto" in  a heartbeat. I am a trope, a source of entertainment, a monkey in Lilly Pulitzer. I am their go-to person in order to hear "angry black girl" rants, but I'm not invited for a sleepover. I am the example of their Black friend when they want to justify their use of the word "nigga." I am a token Black girl.