Blackness in America

I’ve often been disturbed about how blackness, both as a race, and a color, in fashion, design, and our bodies, has been equated with negative qualities. I sometimes can’t believe we’ve come so far, but there are still remnants of both racism, and what I experienced in the 90s, and a little even today, about the role the color plays in being singled out for some kind of scorn. I really thought when we all recieved the dark mode displays in design and technology, we were headed somewhere: a new reality for the darker colors of our spectrum, that could be included in all forms of expression. Black is beautiful. And for a lot of us, it’s a refuge. I adore the black experience. We should never turn away from it, even when it is used in so many films as expressing some kind of “evil” to be demonized.. Are we singling out a color for scorn? Even in Christianity, there is the concept of the black madonna, which is centuries old. What are we doing if we turn away from it. I think blackness is a strength, in every possible way, and it’s truly my favorite color, along with brown. Everyone has their own personal expression, but I find black to be more like the night. A place to rest, to gather strength, in our most vulnerable moments, as for awhile we are in our most defenseless postion, dreaming in our own realities, as we welcome the early morning to pass into the day. Black is beautiful. It’s not something to be feared. We come together in the night, we dream in the darkness, and for me, it’s a hope, a refuge, and an open field of the imagination. In all ways, black is beautiful. And in Buddhist iconography, so essential.

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