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Light Skin, Dark Skin and the things in between 

Today I read a post on Facebook which is below this paragraph about a daycare worker being too dark to work with white children and that if anything a light-skinned black person would be a better option… Just writing about it upsets me, brings up old healed wounds of my own, well I thought they were healed

It reminds me of a post of my own I wrote in 2013 after a discussion with my foster daughters regarding teasing incidents at school. They were teased and bullied for their outward appearance, not one of them had a relationship with the person who made them feel less than perfect. How is that? A stranger can call you out on how you look? Ok, I’m dark-skinned…ok… and? I never understood teasing…

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Parents complain after childcare center hires a ‘too dark’ black woman

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It’s sad that people can be so cruel to another person over something like the color of their skin. The outside appearance of an individual has nothing to do with their personality, the heart, and soul of a person is what matters, especially in cases like this.

When did it matter, other than a teacher, daycare worker, nanny, baby sitter or anyone who is left in charge of someone as precious as a child, being a loving, caring, nurturing, qualified, free of mental health issues that would cause harm and passes a criminal background check that is free of physical harm charges? When did the color of someone’s skin matter???
Are we now basing qualifications on the color of skin?  How does that look on an application or BCA checks? I wonder if this woman would feel better with a pretty, charming, intelligent, pretty, out-going white or light-skinned black childcare worker with a beautiful resume, but a monster hiding behind a mask.
 The so-called “too dark” childcare worker, may go over and beyond her job description for the children, she has under her care. This racist woman’s child may smile and run to the “too dark” worker when they arrive at school, but all she can notice is this woman’s skin color? I’m confused.

It has to be a terrible way to live; judging another human being over something none of us have control over. There are some beautiful people in the world and their insides are rotten. Their hearts are in search of a beat, void of any feeling that resembles love. They go through their day looking to inflict pain on anyone who crosses their paths that goes against what they like.

I love seafood, don’t like red meat much, but you don’t see me protesting cows or meat lovers. My children are in a school that is 75% white in Little Canada, after attending a predominately black school in Nola. I’m not sending letters to hire more minorities and while they are at that enroll more kids that reflect the new hires…

We live on earth with human demons whose joy comes in the form of hurting others, breaking spirits and killing the soul for nothing azz reasons. You can’t be human and have hate in your heart for someone over the color of their skin. You do not have to agree with biracial dating, by not dating outside your race. There’s no reason to attack innocent people who choose to date other races.

You can be married to someone, only to find out that he/she has been living another life. There are church leaders raping children, sleeping with people in their congregation and those very people come to every service praising God with you. The President of the United States is married to a woman who is from Russia, shouldn’t we question that? But, no look at how they handled Bill for getting a blow job in the Oval Office? It was damn near a crime to have an affair then, but when the Republicans were coming out bathrooms and hotel it was quickly swept under the rug.

Just recently a 62 yr old average white man shot up an outdoor concert and yet this woman and many more like her have time to type a letter about a childcare worker being too dark to care for children??? Does not the world not see color does not matter? She must have not been aware of the innocent-looking white daycare worker who pushed a 4 yr old down the stairs and the many more incidents like it and much worse…

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How can we as the human race have evolved so much over the years to still be so ignorant? We call mentally challenged people retarded and we allow people like this to be called what?? How can someone be sane and say the most absolutely ridiculous things? These judgemental people are actually sitting around praying, plotting and writing these words of hatred down and publicly sharing. It’s a good thing because it makes us fully aware. As with everything going on in this world, we needed a reminder of the evils that innocently sit by, acting, hiding behind a Jesus Cross and fake smiles. These people go home, put on their white sheets, waiting for Trump to reinstate the Good Ole Days of hanging “Darkie” on the nearest biggest tree.

 

At some point in most of our lives, we are teased, judged or put down by someone. We often get over it, but in some instances, the word, taunting and uncaring actions from another can lead to deferential circumstances. We need to realize how we dump on people. We need to be responsible for what comes out of our mouths. Just this past week we heard some not so choice words from people holding government positions, but maybe they are following suit of the President.

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We talk to people wreck-less then demand judgment when they finally respond and react out of mental and emotional anguish. I had my share of word bullets, I may not have reacted aggressively, but my body has in the form of illnesses, surgeries, high blood pressure, stress, acne, weight gain, anxiety, and the list goes on. Maybe, if I would have said your thoughts of me don’t matter back my body would feel better now.

Judgment, teasing, bullying and even gossip hurt at any age. I hope this daycare worker hasn’t quit a career she may love, hopefully, this woman’s words did not open up old wounds as it did mines. I hope she is doing awesome in the skin she’s in.


A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

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