Mahagony

The sun peeked through the blinds and fell against my mahogany skin in such a way that I opened my eyes wondering what time of day would cause such warmth. I stretched and began to gather my thoughts. Had the girls left for school and would it be too late for my favorite breakfast that I always had on my day off from the hospital.
I sat up expecting it to be too late for much, and then noticing the time was only 8:30 am. May brings warm sunshine I thought as I found my slippers and headed for the front room.

I found myself home alone and turned on the news to begin my day. May 28th the today show says, as I head for the mirror for my hair check. Looks like I had not slept a wink as I remove the scarf that held everything so perfectly in place. Thank goodness I found this scarf. All the years of sleeping so carefully to keep my soft semi straight curly hair in place had worn me down. I turned side to side admiring the precision cut and softly touching the line made by the razor on yesterday.

“Mahogany”, the sound of elegance to me and the color of my skin. I remember on my 18th birthday standing in the mirror and giving it the name. 32 years later I still smile. Not taking away from anyone else but loving who I am. I remember my grandmothers very white skin and my grandfather’s very dark skin and the conversations held about skin color in my grandmother’s house. Who fits in and who didn’t was the way it always started out. The conversations about keeping the family light didn’t make sense and who did and didn't have good hair, which me and my sister didn’t for some reason made us laugh as we practice braiding each others hair. Looking in the mirror sometimes made me think back to why I never saw color when I was young and what makes it an issue to others, then it came to roost in my yard.

My baby granddaughter was with my sister and very up set about her skin color. One of her friends had told her she was not pretty because she was too dark. This 5 year old was so sad with tears running down her face and having to be cuddled like a new born baby. She kept asking if she could have a different skin color and longer hair because she wanted to be pretty and for her friends to like her. When I arrived to be with her, her first words were Nana I want to be your color. Now I was confused because I am not too much lighter than her and I have never had a need to be anything but what I was. So understanding the pain of wanting to change who you are was foreign to me and getting a 5 year old to understand I thought would be even harder.

We started by looking a pictures and more pictures and laughing at funny hair pictures and beautiful crowns and beautiful color and old people and young people and short people and tall people and sick people and healthy people and one conclusion was made that we are people. We all arrive at one final destination and that is we die. I hope I taught her that she is a beautiful person with great possibilities with a purpose with her time on the earth. That no matter what her color it all starts with loving who you are. In her little people words she finished her conversation with me, gave Nana a big pretty mahogany smile and ran out to play.

My sister and I finished the conversation and no matter how hard we tried we could not remember ever as a child even understanding the color thing. We were taught your actions speak for who you are. Mom always said if you act ugly people will see ugly.

Black, white, tan, brown, peach, coco, mahogany, and the list could go on. When you act ugly people see ugly. And we have plenty of proof of that all over the world. Love who you see in the mirror and smile like your life depends on it.

By VPatterson-Mcilwain