Racism within the races


Racism is something that still exists in Trinidad and Tobago, and you can see it in the way our governing and opposing parties are set up. Indians on one side (majority) Africans on the other (majority), and the other less known/recognized/acknowledged following suit however they choose to.

Still, the people here do tend to break stereotypical ideals and ideas, by doing something that people of another race are known for. Could be cultural practices, social practices, religious practices, whatever. Our Colombian friend, for example, took up Indian dancing. Dunno if she’s still doing it though.

But even as we’re a melting pot of culture and a delicious callaloo of chaos that somehow seems to work, dang, as a 25 year old, I’m only now seeing the racism and disjointedness in the society!

Dred, I hardly saw race. It was just another part of life, like your name, or, your age, or hell, I dunno, your foot?

Still, it’s there. Even within the boundaries of a race there it is.

Don’t like a redskin boy/girl. They too pretty and feel they nice, but they wotless. 

Don’t marry African; Indians know how to save money

Light skin Indians need to stay away from Dark skin Indians. Darkies not good if you want a good, prosperous relationship  or Dark Skins will only try steal Light skins’ chances.

Thing so, nah

I think I knew in my head that it was a thing, but I guess I never understood it. There’s a lot about society I have yet to understand. And that’s only the case because I wasn’t raised to see things like that. It was more like, do I like you? do I trust you? do we like the same things?

But who knew I’d be influenced by what I didn’t understand or [consciously] see? I’m looking at my body and the difference in darkness on my skin. My face is the darkest, followed by my arms, my legs, my torso, my breasts. And I’m looking at myself and I’m resigned, frustrated, helpless against it because I’m in the sun more often that I would like. And with every minute in the sun, I’m feeling my skin get hotter and burn and get darker and  I sulk because it’s necessary. And my umbrella refuses to cooperate, blocking my sight and the sight of others, getting in the way of others, and just flipping out with the slightest breeze.

And I remember when my friend told me her aunt advised her to stay away from the short, black girl because I’ll only try to ride on my friend’s success.

And that I’m only considered pretty when people look at me and assume I’m mixed. As if no dark Indian girl could be pretty.

Superficially, I don’t wanna get darker because my makeup wouldn’t match. I think, going deeper than that, I hate it because like my skin, society’s waaay too dark.


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