I'm still not fully comfortable with how I managed to express myself about my admiration/enjoyment/envy of non-white aesthetics. I think there is something deeper for me to look at here, and so I want to try again.
I subscribe to a blog called adipositivity, which posts a weekly photo of a fat (yes, that word has been reclaimed) person, usually a woman, dressed in whatever she chose to dress or not dress in, surrounded by (presumably) things that she loves or that represent her. I love this blog. I love it because there is a part of me that is tired of the singular cultural narrative that says all people worth looking at in media are thin. Seeing these photos portraying fat positively feeds me in a way I find difficult to express. I find it . . . yummy.
The same holds true for when I see Barack Obama as president, or Hillary Clinton on the political stage. Personal political opinions aside, I feel fed when I see a black man in power among all the old white men, and I feel fed when I see Hillary in her salmon suit among all the blue power suits and red ties. It gives me hope; it quenches a deep thirst for diversity. It shows me that things are changing and other voices, important, capable, wise voices are finally being heard and taking their place among the decision makers.
I also subscribe to Nil Doctrine, and this post fed me, too. I have a visceral joy over seeing non-white faces in media, doing and singing and speaking in ways that are celebratory of themselves and outside of the stereotype-fest, limited-singular-narrative that I get fed by mainstream media. The way the light shines in Sister Rosetta Tharp's cheeks brings me joy.
So perhaps what I am really and inadequately trying to say is that I crave a diversity of people in everything and am impatient and bored with the singular narrative of people-worth-showing being white, thin, etc. I am so bored with it that my whiteness bores me as well. Almost everything my dominant culture mainstream media has presented to me has been about white people, with a few rather insulting niches prescribed for people of color.
And in South Africa, I experienced firsthand how much more there can be to that narrative, how much more human we can be if we stop playing these racist and marginalizing games. I saw behind the curtain of the single narrative, and have craved the experience of more yellow and more hair in twists and everything else ever since.