Author: / Seeham Rahman /

I am a beautiful brown-skinned woman—something I should have realized long before the age of eighteen. Growing up in a majority white, middle class community made feeling beautiful and smart difficult. My perceptions of beauty and intellect were always viewed through a white-washed lens. As a short, dark-skinned woman with a lot of hair and a large nose, I never felt as though I won the genetic lottery when it came to what made a woman “beautiful.” My accent was always a little different, I wasn’t as “culturally aware” and most importantly: I wasn’t white.

Living in a society where white ancestry feels like the criteria for success can make people like me, who are not so privileged, feel isolated.

Many people of color (POC) mature with statements comparing their intellect and self-image to the stereotypical white person. When we possess similar attributes to white people, our individuality is not recognized. POC are consistently analogized to white counterparts. We are exposed to racial slurs and pseudo-compliments such as “coconut” and “you’re pretty for a brown girl.” Often defined by their proximity to whiteness, when POC oppose preconceived ideas of themselves, they are seen as an anomaly. 

Lack of representation and stereotypes of POC are apparent in every type of media. Stereotypes uphold threatening standards and dismiss diversity in their portrayal. In a racially skewed industry where three-quarters of film actors in 2014 were white, our aspirations and beauty norms likewise become predominantly white. While increased recognition of POC in film and music (such as Grammy nominated SZA and Kumail Nanjiani, star and screenwriter of the critically acclaimed The Big Sick) has been a strong step towards the normalization of diversity, we still have a long way to go.

Growing up, I never saw an abundance of South Asian people in Western media. There were no Asian women I could relate or look up to like the all the role models readily available to white people. What little diversity existed within media were caricatures of what it means to be a minority. I always saw South Asian people play the “nerd” characters in the background or by contrast, a fetishized “exotic” woman.

The negative connotations of such roles go far beyond the character. Being a parody or a counterpart of white actors, in turn, excludes Asian actors from creating their own unique footing in the industry, and misrepresents an entire population of people. It reduces them to a subservient role, under the domination of the white industry.

While the absence of diversity is finally being recognized as damaging and the standard of roles cast to certain POC is expanding, there is still a lack of progress overall when it comes to portraying wider ethnic minority populations.

It is fantastic that we have campaigns such as Black History Month bringing cultural and ethnic celebration to the forefront. Learning from such movements helps create necessary social change, and actively working to appreciate all minorities would be a positive step towards diversity in all areas of representation. One approach to achieving this is ensuring the regular inclusion of Asian people in positive roles throughout media and entertainment. This would help reverse stereotypes, provide more accurate representation, and challenge the notion that the beauty standard is solely Western.

Even within my “own” culture in Bangladesh, the spread of Western culture is clear. While the influence of Western ideals and culture aren’t necessarily problematic in and of themselves, when they negate or devalue the culture and beauty of another region, they become an issue. In many South Asian countries, the pinnacle of beauty and power is always associated with lighter skin.

For example, cosmetic products designed to bleach and lighten skin are commonplace throughout the world, especially in India. Studies indicate that global spending on skin lightening products is expected to triple by 2024, becoming a $31.2 billion business.  This makes it clear that the Western influence on beauty standards and acceptable womanhood reach far beyond simply the white majority. This harmful aspiration of light skin shows how the impact of colonization and white-centricity has continued into the present day, and is a detrimental norm against celebrating a variety of skin colors. This cultural prioritizing of whiteness deeply affects the perceptions and stereotypes of Asian people. Supporting diversity of skin colors, body shapes, and cultural values is essential. We are stuck in a circle wherein to be white is considered to be beautiful—and to be otherwise is not.

Social media such as Instagram and Twitter have been key in positively shifting the conversation surrounding race, body, and ethnic diversity. Though in many cases, the unrealistic beauty standards portrayed across social media can be harmful, for me, these apps have helped my self image. I have been able to utilize social media to access online Asian communities, coming into contact with other people who’ve also struggled with body positivity. Although social media can still play a role in my own battles with body satisfaction, sharing my life of various cultures with a diverse audience has helped me gain pride in my roots. I choose to use social media as a positive tool to create a social space in which every culture, body shape, and person can be accepted for who they are.

In a period of personal turbulence relating to my culture and heritage, refusing to accept societal biases and expressing my own identity is a way of fighting back. The argument should not be that any skin color is less beautiful or intelligent, but rather that diversifying the standard will make for a more inclusive reality. Revolutionizing such standards is possible changing the perception and representation of people of color, which means including people of color in all areas of society. We need to stop thinking that ‘white is right.’