Being Brown

My daughter, Maria Fernando, wrote this beautiful personal essay for a school English assignment this month. I didn’t realise that she had ever been concerned about the colour of her skin. But this made me cry because even with her blessed and privileged upbringing she still feels society treats her differently because of her ethnicity. Here’s what she wrote about being brown.

“I had no idea that history was being made, I was just tired of giving up.”- Rosa Parks

Back in primary school, I did a reading comprehension about Rosa Parks, and since then it has always been an inspiration in my life. To this day I still wince at the way she was treated for being black and how people used the colour of her skin to insult her.

Although she was arrested; without that vital piece of history, our world would not be the same. Almost seventy years after Rosa Park’s bus boycott, racism still exists and it’s almost unbearable to think that people of colour are still treated differently.

I am still treated differently at some moments because I have brown skin. All I know is that this needs to stop because it is still something I think about every day of my life.

I never think about my skin colour, no one else mentions it. My primary school is small, I like it that way. I am young, I am happy, I am brown. Every night my mum tells me I am beautiful, I believe her. I wake up in the morning and feel excited to learn, my only worries are handing in homework and friendship drama.

The safest place to me is school, my friends are there, my family is there, I can use it as a shield to hide from the world. My closest friends are here, I trust them, they trust me. I am only eight, I don’t realise what is happening around me. Life is nothing less than perfect. I feel like the perfect princess with the perfect life.

But when you grow up, things change. Life isn’t the big fairy tale you dream of. I am not a princess with a perfect life, I am starting to notice the world, the places I find safe are letting me down.

I am picked for school photos to advertise the school and make it look more “diverse.” Whenever I mention my skin colour, my friends feel uncomfortable, like they can’t say anything.

I am the only brown child in my class. I am aware, I am struggling, I am brown, homework and friendship are not the only thing I worry about. They are just there. In the back of my mind, always getting at my day when it cannot get any worse. Every time I go to the supermarket with my mum, everyone looks, they think I don’t notice. A white mum with a brown kid. How does that work?

It is the last year of primary school. I know I am going to move into a bigger school, that means more people to blend into but also more to be hurt by. I feel like a baby bird having to fly for the first time, to leave the safety of my friends that have supported me through the past eight years of my life. The thought of leaving has not yet processed in my mind. But I know I must leave now; I must find my own way.

I was always used to being the only brown kid, being different. But as soon as I step into my new school, something feels different. I see girls of colour, other than me. It takes me a couple of weeks to adjust, friendship issues, finding my way around.

But when I finally settle in, I find that it’s really not what I thought. I used to feel uncomfortable if people commented on my skin colour, but now girls compliment my skin. The more I feel comfortable about talking about it, the more confidence I gain.

It took the first twelve years of my life to finally accept myself. I chose to write this essay about “being brown” because I feel proud that I now know and accept who I am.

I thought about if I should write about my skin, if it was too personal. It really did take all my courage to read my introduction out loud. Within that moment I wanted everyone to know that I am not embarrassed, it was a way of proving to not just everyone in the classroom, but to myself that I don’t want to blend in anymore.

I want to stand out.

Maria Fernando
age 12