Dear Sarada
I read your post. It is hard to describe the rage that I felt at the colourist dismissal of your work that you called out. As someone who has closely observed your admirable work of saving Kerala ‘s Kudumbashree network meant for the support of the underprivileged from deteriorating into a bunch of crumb-seeking women, I can only say that the comment was also probably driven by sheer envy, and not just shallow thinking. It may be true that your efforts did not fructify everywhere. It is also true that much has regressed, but some aspects continue to endure despite determined push from the political class. No one can deny your exemplary achievements, rare among civil servants.
But I am so glad that you called it out. Decided to make use of the ardent, instant media attention that women in the civil service in Kerala receive, for such a cause. I would have been even more proud if you called out the offender’s name, because that would have been starting perhaps a new kind of MeToo. It is also about caste; I do wish you mentioned that.
Colourism is so rampant here. It is one of the earliest instruments of power that patriarchal-casteist society uses to subjugate children to social inequality and patriarchy. It causes hurt and pain which often remains unhealed till the very end. It destroys the possibility of friendship and loving social bonds.
But I really wonder, who in Kerala can speak out, or want to speak out against colourism.
I have been spending a lot of time with the ASHA workers who are on strike in front of the State Secretariat in Thiruvananthapuram since the past one and a half months. I have been trying to listen to their stories, especially accounts of their working lives. These are really painful for the listeners, and the experience of elitist distrust of, and contempt towards shades of skin valued less lay strewn among their words like shards of broken glass. These are women who expose themselves to the elements for hours each day. Their bodies are exposed to the relentless sun of climate change -challenged times. I winced when each such reference came up, and bowed my head with shame and guilt.
If you ask me who harbors the worst colourism in Kerala today, I can only point to our ruling government. We seem to be living in a springtime of women’s struggles; but some of them seem to receive more support than others. I cannot help comparing the outrageous treatment that the striking ASHA workers are receiving from the government with the initial formal welcome that the WCC received when they approached the government with their complaints. True, the WCC has not received justice at all, but at least the government was willing to invite them for talks, to share space with them, click photos with many well known actors and film technicians– all well-groomed and of ‘acceptable’ skin colour. But the ASHAs, weathered by the heat and dust and punishingly severe showers are rudely kept out, with the government refusing to even see them. Of course, there is vicious colourism, among other things, in this inexcusable exclusion.
I appreciate your gesture all the more because women of our class have many ways to bypass colourism and not protest against it. The right shade of foundation, the right concealer, the filters … But you chose to point out how it can still get mapped on gender and concerns about efficiency.
And somehow, from their reactions to the ASHA workers’ struggle, I am now convinced that the people of Kerala are not as colourist as we think. Over the past forty-six days, they have watched the striking ASHA workers speak with conviction and passion about the truth of their challenging lives. These are women with ‘fair’ skin, no lipstick, no concealer, no grooming, nothing. All they did was speak the grim truth of their lives to power, enduring the state’s punishment for that act. Their bravery has mesmerized the people. The TRPs of those shows remain high after a full month and a half. The abiding colourism of our culture seems to have evaporated in the face of the testimonies of courage in the face of tremendous challenges, at least temporarily.
Colourism in Kerala is not merely based on skin colour at birth, it is also based on socially and historically-entrenched hatred for labouring classes who work outside. It is taken as a sure sign of historically marginalised social origins. The ASHA workers are so overwhelmed with many kinds of exploitation, oppression, and humiliation, that they probably do not rate colourism high on the list of battles they have to choose. I am afraid that in their present condition, they may not be able to indulge — let me be frank — in the comfort available to us, to romanticise the darker shade of skin. For it is standing on top of a pile of achievements that our savarna existences have enabled for us — to some extent or the other — that helps us protest about colourism. If an ASHA worker protested about colourist remarks by her superiors or others, she will most probably be unheard and even harmed.
I cannot agree more with you when you extol the beauty and power of black. But I suppose enabling blackness is not what we find among women workers of the lowest strata. But when I look at the shining faces of ASHA workers who continue to remain steadfast in their quest for dignity, there is little else that I can think of. It would be wonderful therefore if you could visit them at the site of their struggle. As you said, learning to ‘dig’ black was a journey across youth, many decades long. The same could be said about extending loving care to underprivileged others oppressed by colourist elitism, among many, many, many other oppressions.
Sometimes what we learn from the poorest is more priceless than any amount of data analysis and seminar presentations. More than any civil servant in Kerala, it is you who knows this best.
Much warmth and best wishes,
Devika