Ass. Ass. Ass. Ass. Big Sean pretty much summed up our culture’s obsession with the repetition of a single word. “Ass.” Before the 2000’s, white women with bodacious bottom halves were a rarity. Through the miracles of plastic surgery, squats, padded underwear (weird), and genetics, bigger butts are being seen on lighter skin tones.
I attend an institution full of students with great minds for pharmacy, actuarial science, and journalism, but their knowledge of black culture and the black struggle is as vast as my knowledge of “Star Wars.”
When a girl walks by with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in my face, my friends will gasp, stare and—in their state of surprise— say, “Nadia, that white girl’s butt is bigger than yours!” or, “Nadia, do you get mad when a white girl’s butt is bigger than yours?”
I get mad at a lot of things: parents who don’t discipline their children, Volkswagen Beetles with eyelashes, and people who say “melk” instead of “milk.” The amount of fat and/or muscle that a woman packs into her tush is at the bottom of my list, but people think the size of someone else’s ass somehow impacts my lifestyle; as if the dimensions of Becky’s butt somehow highlight or denounce my blackness.
This question, and its many forms, blatantly ask, “What are women of color good for other than their bodies?” Once the curves, thick thighs, and perky butts thrive in another race, women of color lose their significance because, since the 1700’s, our bodies have been a fascination amongst the white community, overshadowing what other attributes we possess.
Back in the day, extremely large butts were thought of as “unnatural” and “primal.” Saartjie Baartman, otherwise known as the Hottentot Venus, was the poster child for the badonkadonk. After being smuggled into England, Baartman was put on stage in a skin-tight, flesh-colored outfit, decorated with ostrich feathers. Her wide hips and large bottom attracted business from all over the world.
While people fought for her freedom, Baartman did not have much of a choice outside of her stage persona. Although she was being exploited, she was getting a small wage to do so. Had she returned to her home of South Africa, she would have returned to a life of servitude.
Which would you choose: being a servant in a country where no one knows you, or making money somewhere where everyone is fascinated by you?
After years in England, Baartman was handed over to a Frenchman who developed a scientific and sexual interest in her. At the age of 26, Baartman died of unknown causes. Instead of shipping her remains back to South Africa, George Cuvier began dissecting her less than 24 hours after her death. He and his team then made casts of her body parts and preserved her genitals. Her remains were on display at the National Museum of Natural History in Paris until the 1970’s.
Considering that Baartman died in the early 1800’s, the idea of the black body image was still branded throughout the world years after her death. Much like African American women in present times, our bodies are the root of outside curiosity and questions, making us hyper aware of our physical being. Over time, the unfortunate nature of the beast has seeped into mainstream society, scarring women with the idea that their bodies are all-encompassing of who they are as people.
Why are there a lot of black women in raunchy music videos? Why is Nicki Minaj iconic? Because for hundreds of years, we have been convinced that our bodies are not a temple, but the world’s temple; that the words shaped by our mouths could never amount to the images shaped by our bodies; and that the greatest accomplishment in life is to admired before being respected.
