One of my biggest insecurities as a kid was the color of my skin. Even years later, I can still recall the intensity of my emotions when I would look at all the ads on local TV and then at my skin and wonder what went wrong -- did I stay out in the sun too long? Was I using the wrong soap? Did I not scrub hard enough in the bath? Was the fabric of my umbrella to shield me from the sun too thin and flimsy? From watching all those advertisements on local TV for soaps and lotions to lighten skin, being told by my friends in the neighborhood that they didn’t want to play until the sun was out in fear they’d get too dark, to seeing posters all over the kiosks in department stores of the light-skinned ladies and their precious products; it was an endless cycle of questioning and envy towards everyone that didn’t have skin as dark as mine that lasted as far as my early teenage years.
It took years for me to unlearn this self-hatred society had inflicted on me, to unlearn this insecurity towards my “morena” skin, and to unlearn the bias against other kids with the same skin as mine. It took years to realize that if I felt so strongly about my complexion, what more the other kids who didn’t have the right guidance and resources to unlearn this harmful way of thinking?
The whole notion of white/light-skinned Filipinos as superior can be traced all the way back to (you guessed it, folks) colonization, when the Spanish brought with them the skin color hierarchy, in which the farmers and labor force worked under the sun, while the light-skinned, upper-class “mestizos/mestizas” didn’t have to. Until now, this harmful perspective adapted from colonialism manifests itself in Filipinos’ overwhelming preference for light skin, thus resorting to skin whitening products and bleach to achieve the look.
Additionally, skin whitening products are found to be highly popular among the lower class, as darker skin is still associated with undesirable characteristics such as low income and inferior social status. This almost obsessive preference for light skin obviously implied that many Filipinos consider their own culture and appearance inferior to that of our European and American counterparts. (Singson, 2017) Furthermore, papaya soap and other skin-lightening products are marketed to “empower” Filipinas to look and feel beautiful...if only they had white skin, therefore forcing those who are darker-skinned to either comply or be pushed aside in favor of white beauty (Casillan, 2020). Again, perpetuating the whole belief of lighter skin as ideal and superior through constant and persistent exposure to advertisements of papaya soap and other products of the skin-lightening industry.
In a Huffpost article published in 2019, assistant professor of sociology and Asian American studies at San Jose University, Joanne L. Randilla, shares that “Power and privilege in the Philippines has a particular look. We see it on television and other media, politics, etc. There is an overrepresentation of lighter-skinned people in these arenas, and it perpetuates the idea that those who are not light are not worthy or do not belong in those spaces.”
So where do we go from here?
It’s important to establish that the harm that stems from the success of skin whitening products is not solely because of societal beauty standards. Colorism is more than just who’s deemed prettier than — it’s about people’s livelihood and their probability of getting jobs that can actually sustain them; it’s about representation in the media and how big of a role it plays in household behavior and children’s upbringing; it’s “grabe yung initim mo!” comments in family reunions, or "grabe, I’m so dark na” thoughts as you overanalyze the beautiful skin white people only wish they could have. It’s if it had to be between a light-skinned candidate versus a darker one, who’s most likely to get the job?
It’s a systemic issue, and it’s getting old. While systemic issues may seem endless and impossible to counter, it’s worth every step knowing that the next kid doesn’t have to grow up hating the beautiful skin they were born in.
So begin with yourself, when you catch yourself associating your darkness with negativity. Begin in the household, when your little sibling complains about their own complexion. Begin with your friends, when they make fun of the other for being too dark. Begin with your teachers, your classmates, your neighbors. The more this harmful attitude toward darker complexions is called out for what it is, the more it is acknowledged as a division between people of the same identity, then the more we are able to work against it.
Begin. Continue. If we must move mountains, then we shall move mountains. We must empower ourselves, because who else will?
Resources
Singson, F. (2017). Colonialism's Role in the Success of the Filipino Skin Whitening Industry. https://scholarscompass.vcu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1044&context=auctus
Casillan, A. (2020). Flipping the Cultural Script: Papaya Soap and Skin Color Stratification in the Philippines. http://www.inquiriesjournal.com/articles/1820/flipping-the-cultural-script-papaya-soap-and-skin-color-stratification-in-the-philippines
Bumatay, C. (2019). I’m A Filipina Who Was Addicted To Skin Lightening Products. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/filipina-light-skin-bias-philippines_l_5d5d942be4b03b44f416572d
Justine. (2020). A Condensed History of Colorism in the Philippines. https://www.dearasianyouth.org/post/a-condensed-history-of-colorism-in-the-philippines
I also spoke about this topic on an episode on Beauty Standards for The Lakambini's podcast!
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