Teen Talk: Not So Fair and Still Lovely
“Love yourself the way you are!” says modern pop psychology. And yet, it is not so easy for self-conscious teens in an era of glorification of impossible beauty standards on TikTok and Instagram, chief among them being the infatuation with “fair” skin.
[Left] “It’s ingrained colonialism. We've associated darker skin with lower socioeconomic status, and it's really gross because you're essentially judging someone based on something they can't even control,” says Ankita, a Junior from Lambert High School.
It’s hard to believe that the school year is already over. I mean, no more study dates with The Organic Chemistry Tutor. No more praying for my grades to randomly turn from 89 to 90 overnight. No more 3 a.m. crash-outs because someone forgot to do their share of the group project (I’m looking at you, Arjun). It’s over. Goodbye clouds of gray, hello skies of blue—literally. Summer is around the corner with its promise of sunny days, ice cream, and long days basking on the beach.
During my spring break, I was lucky enough to go on a trip with my friends, one that was meant to consist of multiple hours on the beach. When we arrived, I heard them say, “I’m so excited to tan!” I couldn’t help but stare and resist the urge to smack them in the head. Are you crazy? Why would you ever want to get darker? So, while my friends laid around on their pool chairs, excited to flaunt their tan lines, I hid under my umbrella and towel. I covertly stalked the sun's movement, darting my feet inside the safety of the shade when necessary. And when I left, unscathed from the sun’s rays, I felt proud and accomplished. Aha! Take that! But it wasn’t until later that I wondered just what exactly I was proving, or rather, just what standards I was perpetuating.
Nandana, a junior from Milton High School, says, “I’ve never really had a problem with tanning, but I’ve definitely seen that people around will comment on it, ‘Oh you’ve got darker.’” Another junior from Lambert High School, Ankita, explains that her mom would bathe her in a “tomato concoction” as a way to get rid of her tan from marching band. She says, “I’ve never felt insecure about my skin color,” while agreeing that her desi peers do seem to prefer fairer skin. According to her, “It’s ingrained colonialism. We've associated darker skin with lower socioeconomic status, and it's really gross because you're essentially judging someone based on something they can't even control.”
It is no surprise that desi kids have a complex about a dark skin complexion. India’s fascination with Eurocentric traits is no secret. It’s apparent when we see very few dark-skinned Bollywood actors. And it’s blatantly obvious when we see skin-lightening cosmetics like the infamous Fair and Lovely. Speaking about the Tamil serials her grandparents watch in India, Nandana observes, “Every single person is light-skinned. It's simply not representative of the amazing variety of skin tones that are in India or even around the world.”
Growing up in such a cultural norm, I remember developing a narrow-minded view of what beauty is. I began to see that the girls who got the guy, wore the trendy clothes, and sat at the cool kids' table, all looked suspiciously close to being white. Instead of the Alias or Deepikas of the world, I felt more like the Bollywood villains who were all conveniently dark-skinned.
Colorism in the land of blonde hair and blue eyes
But what is particularly challenging for us Indian American teenagers is that we live in America, surrounded by the very faces and traits that many Indians are smitten by. We live in a landscape of blonde hair and blue eyes, surrounded by the faces we feel we should look like. This is precisely why the misplaced beauty standards perpetuated in India affect us far more than they did our parents or grandparents.
What comes with that prickling awareness of beauty is an awareness of all the places where we miss the mark, the traits where we fall short, features that make us feel like we don’t belong. Ankita explains that while she has grown to love her curly hair, ever so often she wonders, “Why is it so unmanageable? Why do I have to put products in my hair? Why can’t it just be straight?” She says, “Straight hair has always sort of represented that idea of easy.”
[Right] “Instead of the Alias or Deepikas of the world, I felt more like the Bollywood villains who were all conveniently dark-skinned,” says Gia, the author.
Looking back at skin color, I remember being in kindergarten and rubbing my skin, hoping it would look whiter. Or worrying that if I touched things, I’d leave a brown mark—as if my skin color was a stain. Even after having “grown up” and knowing all about colorism and racism, my first instinct is still to reach for the peach crayon rather than the brown one.
We are so brainwashed by the place we are living in, but, perhaps more heartbreakingly, we are brainwashed by our own culture. That’s why it's so, so easy to pick the filters on Instagram and Snapchat that make our skin tone lighter or to straighten our hair or to pluck our eyebrows paper thin. It’s so easy to dream about being white.
Last week, I spent 18 hours on TikTok and 8 hours on Instagram. I spent one whole day just watching the filtered, edited lives of people considered cool or aesthetic. Unfortunately, what naturally comes with that is comparison: looking at the size of your stomach, the creases on your face, or the swoop of your nose.
And so, while it's easy to say, “who cares about beauty standards!” it is also incredibly hard to be immune to those standards, especially at our age. After all, it is now that we teenagers search for the definition of beauty. And just like almost everyone else in the world, we search for it on our phones—in “likes” and “followers”. We look for beauty in the makeup trends, and yes, we look for beauty in the standards of our own culture and where we live.
So, what is the solution? The truth is: I don’t really know. Just like everyone else, I’m still figuring it out. Even now, I would much rather reach for a hair straightener than a curl cream, and so, it feels hypocritical more than anything to scream, “AHHH LOVE YOURSELF!!” I think we have to find our own paths to recognizing our own beauty. We have to go on that frustrating, annoying, metaphorical journey by ourselves. Otherwise, it wouldn’t mean anything.
For me, as I grow older and “wiser,” I’ve come to acknowledge that I will never be white and I will never fit those standards. While that would’ve caused the fifteen-year-old me much pain, the new sixteen-year-old me finds a little bit of relief in that. I’ve been chasing an impossible. And by slowly realizing the ridiculousness of it all, I have come to like the color of my skin.
In many ways, it is a choice. You can choose to surround yourself with diverse people, or you can choose to be in a bubble. You can choose to watch the TikToks that make you feel bad, or you can watch the videos that uplift you. And, to be honest, making that choice is really, really hard. But I think the ease of choosing yourself does come with time, and that is okay! Because if we did have it all figured out, we simply wouldn’t be teenagers. Nandana sums it up perfectly. “They’re your features. You don’t have a choice over them. You are born the way you are, and, frankly, you are enough.”
Column host Gia Agarwal is a 10th-grader who, when not crushing it in her advanced writing classes, is out there living every book lover's dream. She can be reached at TeenTalk@Khabar.com.
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