"Do you want the regular or bleach facial?"

“The regular please."

"You aren't bleaching your face today?"

"Um no I don't think so."

"You're very dark. Think about it for next time."

Yes, I've had this conversation before. I can't tell you the disgusting number of times I've had variants of it. Every single one hitting home the point that dark skin is a "curse" that has unfortunately touched me. A "malady" that I should rectify. One that is worth the increased risk of skin cancer and exposure to carcinogens.

I was nine when I first realized the cream I had been using on my face was a skin lightener. Before then I knew it was supposed to make me "prettier," but it had always been more of a feeling than a tangible correlation. The epiphany that my attractiveness was explicitly inversely related to the melanin in my skin was dehumanizing, even for a 9-year-old. Was this why I had always thought my face was “dirty?" I remember falling asleep many nights hoping to wake up a shade lighter the next morning. Wondering why no matter how rough I scrubbed my face, the "extra" layer of pigmentation would stubbornly stay in place.

Colorism in India has a long history. Radhika Parameswaran, a renowned researcher in cultural studies and India Studies at Indiana University,cites the caste system, colonialism, and globalization as three key institutions that have sustained the detrimental norm over the years. Interestingly, ancient Hindu texts celebrate dark skin with key heroes like Krishna and Drapudi being described as dark, beautiful, and strong.

The "light skin superiority" schema is the basis for much of Indian media. In fact, the media conveys that light skin is correlated with an overall higher quality of life from moral character to intelligence.

Nearly every Hindi and Telugu (a South Indian language) movie I have seen has heroines with milky white skin, many of them having undergone skin lightening treatments. Darker skinned actresses typically played smaller roles (if any) and had some glaring personality defect. In the Telugu film industry almost every heroine doesn't even speak the vernacular of their work. North Indian actresses are recruited for their skin tone and lip synced to verbal voice overs. Darker aspiring actresses are pressured to bleach their skin to be successful in the South Indian film industry. Ironically, darker skin is a trademark South Indian trait.

Skin lightening commercials are frequent and further reinforce that lighter skin is better. Girls go from depressed, weak, and dark to happy, empowered, and light. A ridiculous transformation but one constantly reinforced; one that so many people internalize starting at a young age. Young girls learn that their worth is largely determined by the color of their skin; skin lightening campaigns are advertised as forms of empowerment. According to researchers at Nielsen, India's 2010 skin lightening market was worth $432 million growing at a rate of 18% per year. Fair & Lovely, one of the world's biggest skin-lightening companies, markets itself as "a brand which has championed the deepest ambitions and desires of women."

I wish that media is where the correlation ended, but colorism is rampant in Indian societies and circles. Media and culture work together in a bidirectional way. In 2012, alone, Indians consumed 233 tons of skin-whitening products. A 2014-2015 survey of Indian college students found that 66% believed fair skinned people are more confident; 50% believed fair skinned people are rich; 44% feel fair people are better educated; 74% asserted that fair people are more accepted in general. These cultural norms and beliefs are what allow horrendous and harmful practices like bleaching and skin-whitening to be seen as interventions of empowerment.

Next week we'll discuss current efforts to rectify this glaring problem.