By Nasra Al Adawi
Being A Women of Color does not imply a tag of ethnic or certain race. I as one I have gone through of journey of discoveries I should have loved both side of who I am. I can only explain it that growingn as an interracial child is not easy. There are days I wished I looked more Arab and there were days I wished my skin would have been darker. My visit to Tanzania in 2006 on a mission to meet women with breast cancer taught me many other lessons about myself. I'm African and it is so sad that I have missed learning about my African heritage. I have missed knowing what it Africa is all about. Now with my father gone I'm trying to retrieve how was his life as an African man who was born in Zanzibar in which he had rich heritage of another African Island called Comoro Island…
I remember when I went to visit women in the hosipital they really glowed in their own natural color, I realized I did miss that. I use to worry about my skin tone as it was not as my mother who is originally Omani. My hair was not good enough for me, it was afro but it was not coarse hair, I was so dissatisfied of what God had gave me, so I splashed myself with hair straighterner and now when I decided to stop, having been living in chemical so so long. My hair without straightener is impossible to manage, I could hardly comb it. I realized what I have done to me. I decided I would no longer splash myself in makeup, be as natural as I can be. As for my afro hair is long story, I failed to keep it afro, being bold was not appealing either. I'm still looking for ways to get my natural hair back, I just don’t want to be straightening my hair on a lifetime basis.
I regret that I did not take the opportunity to try writing my father letters in Swahili, I would been now writing poetry in Swahili and all I'm able to do is just converse in Swahili. I would have made my dad proud of me, instead of complaining about receiving letters written in Swahili, I should taken at least an attempt to try learning on my own. Yet the journey of learning is endless so I have to put my learning hat and be ready to seek knowledge, as fountain of knowledge is open for those who seek it.
I recently realized that I'm beautiful the way I am and I have to keep reminding myself that to accept the person I am. For I was born as this, take me as I am with all my flaws.
Being A Women of Color does not imply a tag of ethnic or certain race. I as one I have gone through of journey of discoveries I should have loved both side of who I am. I can only explain it that growingn as an interracial child is not easy. There are days I wished I looked more Arab and there were days I wished my skin would have been darker. My visit to Tanzania in 2006 on a mission to meet women with breast cancer taught me many other lessons about myself. I'm African and it is so sad that I have missed learning about my African heritage. I have missed knowing what it Africa is all about. Now with my father gone I'm trying to retrieve how was his life as an African man who was born in Zanzibar in which he had rich heritage of another African Island called Comoro Island…
I remember when I went to visit women in the hosipital they really glowed in their own natural color, I realized I did miss that. I use to worry about my skin tone as it was not as my mother who is originally Omani. My hair was not good enough for me, it was afro but it was not coarse hair, I was so dissatisfied of what God had gave me, so I splashed myself with hair straighterner and now when I decided to stop, having been living in chemical so so long. My hair without straightener is impossible to manage, I could hardly comb it. I realized what I have done to me. I decided I would no longer splash myself in makeup, be as natural as I can be. As for my afro hair is long story, I failed to keep it afro, being bold was not appealing either. I'm still looking for ways to get my natural hair back, I just don’t want to be straightening my hair on a lifetime basis.
I regret that I did not take the opportunity to try writing my father letters in Swahili, I would been now writing poetry in Swahili and all I'm able to do is just converse in Swahili. I would have made my dad proud of me, instead of complaining about receiving letters written in Swahili, I should taken at least an attempt to try learning on my own. Yet the journey of learning is endless so I have to put my learning hat and be ready to seek knowledge, as fountain of knowledge is open for those who seek it.
I recently realized that I'm beautiful the way I am and I have to keep reminding myself that to accept the person I am. For I was born as this, take me as I am with all my flaws.
