On Being Brown
I am a brown-skinned Indian American. Race or racism has been something we don’t really speak about. It simmers under the skin, known but ignored, present but unseen.
Growing up in India as a relatively darker skinned girl, the color of my skin brought me many sleepless nights. I decided that if I couldn’t stand out in a good way because of how I looked, I needed to channel it into my work. I won essay writing and drawing competitions and excelled academically.
A feeling of belonging was a welcome relief when I moved to southern India for college. A darker skin tone was common and I was just one among the rest. I excelled, compered college events and became my class rep.
A new chapter awaited when I moved to the United States with my husband. Apprehension was met with openness. After my experiences growing up, I was surprised with the acceptance we got. It also helped that we lived in a progressive university town. After my boys were born, I started hearing about how I needed to make them strong to withstand bullying. My first direct confrontation with color was when a boy in my son’s kindergarten class teased him as the ‘brown skinned farmer’. Apologies were made and parents spoken to, but I started realizing that this was only going to get bigger. I started including bedtime chats about bullies, being strong and walking away when people are mean.
