(ThyBlackMan.com) On September 2, 2011 at 1:24 AM, God blessed my wife and me with a happy, healthy, beautiful, baby boy. Upon our return to the recovery room, I began my massive digital announcement campaign, consisting of text messages, emails, and mobile phone calls to alert family and close friends that the baby had arrived six weeks early, but safely and soundly. Because it was in the wee hours of Friday morning, the onslaught of replies and return phone calls didn’t start until six hours later. As my wife and I fielded the responses from excited family members, mainly from the South, the comments and questions were all identical and asked in the same exact order.
“Congratulations! Was it a boy or a girl? What’s his name? How much did he weigh? …..What color is he?” Our responses remained just as consistent as the inquiries. “Thank you. A boy. Myles Robinson McClary. 5 lbs. ….Too soon to tell.”
Although everyone seemed satisfied and content with our other answers, the “too soon to tell” response, didn’t suffice for quite a few family members as they proceeded to inform us of the modern day “brown paper bag test,” one that 
determines the baby’s final shade. “Check his knuckles, knees, elbows, or ears and that will tell you how dark the baby will be,” they said with the same level of assurance as Albert Einstein and his theory of relativity.
Both my wife and I come from two solid, African-American heritages. The complexion of our family tree roots are very diverse, just like in most black lineages, ranging from light-skinned (or pronounced skin-ded by many south of the Mason Dixon), red, yellow, dark brown to blue black. My wife describes my shade as caramel and I would compare her to a mocha frappuccino that Starbucks makes. After forwarding a digital photo of Myles to a few folks, we were both asked repeatedly, “How did you two make such a red baby?”
I no longer think that we live in the Dorothy Dandridge and Lena Horne epitome of black beauty era, where all colors between the peach crayon and the desert sand colored one were considered safe and attractive; while the chocolate, black, and purple colors were removed from the Crayola box. Because of brothers like Michael Jordan, Wesley Snipes and Big Daddy Kane, many years later those crayons were accepted and placed back in. However, I do think that African-Americans are still unnecessarily shade conscious. I hardly believe that proud new mommas and poppas from other races are turning back the ears of their newborns to determine whether they’ll match an olive or tangerine colored crayon.
It’s proven that colorism plays a part in the job hiring process, police treatment, black fraternity and sorority selection, and on many other levels of our society. What’s more upsetting is that even while Myles was departing my wife’s womb, his skin tone was already coming under question. I guess the next inquiry from relatives would’ve been, “Does he have good hair?”
We’ve heard this argument for generations that as long as we continue to uphold these shade sub-divisions within our own race, we will remain segregated as a people. Because shade chart analysis is so deeply rooted within our culture and has such a long standing history, it’s going to be extremely difficult for us not to ask such audacious questions like “what color is he?” As I now reflect, my wife and I could’ve answered that question differently. A better response from us would’ve been, “Black. The same color that he’ll always be.” That answer will remind the one asking the question, just how much that is a “house vs. field slave” inquiry. We are no longer on the plantation, but haven’t totally exonerated ourselves from that “masta mentality.” To ask what color is he before asking is he healthy; is a true indication that our priorities as a people need adjusting. It’s time for us to realize that Black encompasses every shade of the entire African-American spectrum. The 31 flavors of Black people’s Baskin-Robbin needs to be consolidated into one big, strong, united scoop! Once we learn to embrace this train of thought, we’ll then reap the rewards of the pot of gold that sits at the end of this multi-shaded Black rainbow.
As Myles gets older, his appearance will undoubtedly evolve, but whatever shade he winds up, whether it is fudge, mahogany, coffee, or toffee, he’ll always only have one box to check off when filling out an application.
Staff Writer; Dwayne McClary
Feel free to connect with this brother via facebook; D. McClary.
