‘A Girl Like Me’

In 2005, Kiri Davis, then a high school student in New York, created and produced “A Girl Like Me.” The seven-minute film features young black girls discussing stereotypes they routinely encounter based on their skin color. The video, which has sparked online debates throughout the country, also shows several black children select white dolls over black dolls, saying the white dolls are “nice” and the black dolls are “bad.”

Some VCU students share their response to the film.

To view the video, go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17fEy0q6yqc
or http://www.mediathatmattersfest.org/6/a_girl_like_me/index.php?fs=about

Christen Duxbury

It is no secret that adolescent girls struggle with their identity. A secure sense of your roots, where you came from and how it effects who you are today is something many take for granted.

This documentary serves as a forum for young African-American women to discuss many of the frustrations, experiences, truths and hardships they deal with daily.

The film confronts some of the stereotypes pushed upon young African-American females. The media often place blacks in stereotypical roles, or portray them as being spiteful, promiscuous, unemployed, pregnant oron welfare.

Children, teenagers and sometimes adults assume that the images of African-Americans they see in films and TV shows are an accurate depiction of reality.

The images of beauty broadcasted in this country consist almost exclusively of ultra-thin white girls who have the right hair, skin, makeup, accessories and clothes. These images can damage the psyche of all girls, and have a profound impact on the black community.

In the film, one 18 year old named Jennifer remembered thinking as a child, “I wish I was just like this Barbie doll.” This is the image of beauty that all girls are taught from a young age.

This is the reality that young African-American girls face. They are told constantly that their beauty is measured on a scale of whiteness that favors straight, smooth hair and light skin.

The film makes it clear that it is hard to be comfortable in who you are when no solid cultural identity has been passed down to you. This insecurity in their roots means they lack specific details that would help them figure out who they are.

Traditions, morals and specific social mores all are passed down from your specific culture. The women in Davis’ video are wise beyond their years. They identify misconceptions and open the doors for discussion.

Ameesha Felton

This documentary touched me in a powerful way. Too often, the girls in this documentary say they feel as if they don’t measure up to such standards.

Jennifer, 18, said all of her siblings are lighter than her, and although her mother is dark-skinned, she is still a lighter shade than Jennifer. Insecure of her complexion and feeling less beautiful while growing up, she would often ask her mom, “How come I’m the darkest?”

I was just like Jennifer.

My mother and siblings are all a lighter complexion than me. Growing up, I struggled with feeling unaccepted because I was the darkest. My mother told me I was silly for feeling insecure, but in my mind, beauty was equated with being light-skinned.

I went through childhood confused, constantly fighting my God-given features. I can still remember those hot July days when I stayed inside, because I didn’t want to get darker.

Going to the neighborhood pool on a hot summer day is usually a treat for most children, but it was an activity I dreaded. All I could think about was how black I was going to be when I got home.

Many dark-skinned black females struggle with accepting their skin complexion because of years of societal influence.

American advertisers generally choose white or mixed models to sell their products. There aren’t too many dark-skinned, Afro wearing models; in fact, there are practically none.

This battle has been going on for centuries, and we fight amongst ourselves. It’s called the color complex, which is also the title of a book written a decade ago.

The majority of black women across the country have bought into the myth that nappy hair and dark skin are ugly characteristics.

What is beauty? Who defines it? Does good hair mean curls and waves, and bad hair means you look like a slave?

It’s time for us to redefine who we are. African-Americans can’t expect other racial groups to accept them if they don’t accept themselves.

I am guilty of believing this myth, too, and this documentary reveals that insecurities I thought were gone actually still exist.

Ria B. Jones

Young black women struggle endlessly with “accepted” images of beauty and issues of self-hatred. Some will relax their hair believing it’s too kinky, while others will go so far as to bleach their skin in an attempt to be lighter.

The idea that to be beautiful one must possess stereotypical white features – straight, long hair, light skin, etc. – is absurd. With all that black women have endured, it’s not hard to understand why this belief is so commonly accepted.

Blacks as a people are missing what a lot of other races in America have been afforded: heritage. As stated in the video, Africans were taken from their country and forced to work in a foreign land, carrying no knowledge or record of their culture.

The great revolutionary Marcus Garvey said, “A people without history are like a tree without roots.” We cannot grow as individuals with a unique and separate culture unless we know who we are and where we come from.

If we possessed that knowledge, then the characteristics, which we have come to accept as shortcomings and flaws, can blossom into our greatest attributes.

For example, most women don’t realize that by relaxing their naturally curly and kinky hair, they are ultimately pronouncing their self-hatred to the world.

The fact that wearing your hair naturally and being labeled African (which is indeed what you are) is considered negative only reinforces our insecurities and shame as blacks, descendant of Africans.

What was most disheartening in the documentary was not the fact that young black women feel this way, but rather how early these thoughts of self-hatred are planted in the minds of our impressionable youth.

A study conducted to see whether black children would choose a white or black doll produced a shocking reality: We are teaching our children to hate themselves and thereby perpetuating a vicious cycle.

Only when blacks learn to accept themselves as they are and sincerely acknowledge the beauty they possess, can they truly begin to prosper as a people.