Hey guys! It’s been a while, I know… I have recently promised myself to post/write when I feel inspired and have a topic I really want to speak about. I do not want to run a blog that has forced and uninteresting content, so please bare with me as I try to figure this whole thing out.
Today I’ve sat down by my computer listened to some great music, and I’ve written what has truly been on my mind for a while, and I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I have grown up in an amazing family, we love and care for each other and are together through thin and thick. My dad, John Hogan is honestly my superhero! He married my
Mum when I was about 3 years old, and he became the first person I ever considered to be my father. The one thing people always see about our family that I never really thought about was that he is white, but my mum and I are black. People would always ask if he was actually my dad, but I’d never really understood why they’d bother asking… His race didn’t determine whether or not he was my father. As much as it didn’t bother me when I was younger when I turned 12 and began to live in Canada everything changed… I wasn’t in Kenya anymore, I was in a place where people would look at me differently and would think “huh.. whats up with that?” When I’d walk down the street with my dad holding his hand people with literally stare! And I mean SHAMELESSLY stare. I didn’t get what the big deal was… I guess it’s weird to be a dark skin kid with a white dad…? But on the bright side after moving here, I was incredibly grateful to get the opportunity to get to know the Hogan side of my family. I’d only see them once a year, and it’s hard to base a good relationship off of just that.
As I spent more time in Toronto, I went to a small predominantly white private school and began to create my “Canadian” Identity… I was happy and felt like I was becoming something and felt as if the whole move was not as bad as I thought it would be. But according to the black population, I was “whitewashed” and wasn’t acting black enough. That statement honestly had me super confused. I began to think that I didn’t really belong in a particular “category”. My skin was too dark for me to act “white” (till this day I still don’t understand what that means) and my behaviour was too white for me to be considered black. This was honestly the hardest time of my life because I didn’t know where I belonged and I felt alone. No one should ever have to feel that way. I have never sat down and spoken to anyone about this particular topic and writing about it has really helped me move forward … and I hope that I am able to reach someone else who may feel the same way.
As I look back at my life, I realise I have been very privileged and haven’t really had an encounter where my skin colour has prevented me from doing what I want to do. Unfortunately, many other people in this world aren’t as lucky. We live in a time where black girls are considered either ugly or are extremely fetishised (isn’t it funny how that works?🤔) and black men are made to look violent and temperamental. Growing up I wanted to see myself as a white girl because it was instilled in my brain that they were the definition of beauty. I would close my eyes and dream of having fair skin, long brown hair and the works. It wasn’t until earlier last year I really accepted myself as a damn Coco KWEEEEN. I began to see people that looked like me more in the social network space. I followed black YouTubers and Instagram models, and I realised that representation is honestly EVERYTHING. The only way we can empower more black women, men, girls and boys is by helping them rise up and supporting each other. Everyone is beautiful and phenomenal. Race, culture, sexual orientation and religion do not determine your beauty, only you have the ability to do so.
Anyways just thought I’d share that little experience from my life with you guys!
Before you guys exit… do check out the lovely Coco Kweens featured below