When baseball great Sammy Sosa showed up at a Latin Recording Academy event last week, he looked jaw-droppingly different from his days as iconic right fielder for his Chicago Cubs. It wasn't that the 41-year-old Dominican ballplayer seemed older or heavier. It was that he looked, well, white.
As his ghastly white image shot around the Web, Sosa quickly found himself the brunt of uncharitable comparisons to another famous, mysteriously lightened celebrity -- Michael Jackson. One jokester even put Sosa's "blackness" for auction on eBay, accompanied with damning before and after photographs. Sosa soon spoke out -- in his native Spanish -- on the Univision program "Primer Impacto."
"It's a bleaching cream that I apply before going to bed and whitens my skin some," he explained. "It's a cream that I have, that I use to soften [my skin], but has bleached me some. I'm not a racist. I live my life happily."
Though skin lightening may seem like an aberration in America, where tanning skin lotions like Jergen's Natural Glow cause a hoarding frenzy, it's big business worldwide. And a report in today's Bloomberg.com reveals it's booming. In India, where fair skin is associated with attractiveness and marriageability, sales of over-the-counter whiteners rose a dramatic 17 percent in a nine-month period. And the cosmetic companies that make the products, which have long had a loyal following among women in Asia and Africa, are discovering a growing new market among men. When the Fair and Lovely brand spun off a Fair and Handsome line and recruited Indian superstar Sha Rukh Khan to endorse it in 2007, sales went through the roof.
Lighter skin, with its Western, aristocratic associations, isn't peddled overseas as merely attractive. It's a ticket to a better life. In a head-smackingly crazy 2006 spot for Fair and Lovely, a doting father plies his grown daughter with the cream and voilà! She gets a job she'd previously been turned down for -- and captures the eye of a handsome new colleague.
And if you feel like enjoying a little bitter irony, watch the international ad for Olay Natural White followed by the same manufacturer's spot for Touch of Sun, "for a sun-kissed glow." Note how the same magic light sparkles can giveth or taketh away shades of skin color!
Lest you think that hue dissatisfaction ends at the neckline, there are skin creams that will lighten every portion of your flesh, from your armpits to your areola.
Here in the States, where lightening products aren't as ubiquitous, the culture of shade changing is subtler. What goes by the straightforward name of "whitening" on the other side of the world gets the more scientific terminology "pigment reduction."
Why go lighter? It's not as if we still have any cultural biases about color, right? Last year, L'Oreal, makers of White Perfect Re-Lighting Whitening Cream, denied giving Beyoncé a little whitewashing in a Feria ad that depicted the singer not merely as blond but flat-out pale. And in 1995, Time magazine famously darkened O.J. Simpson's mug shot on its cover. Remember, if you're looking to convey "pretty pop star," think light. Stab-happy lunatic? Dark.
Is it any wonder that four years ago, when filmmaker Kiri Davis asked a group of black children to choose between a black baby doll and one white one, 15 of the 21 children preferred the white baby?
Perhaps that's why whitening creams with potentially dangerous ingredients like hydroquinone, which are banned in Europe , are still readily available in many other corners of the world -- including the U.S. Or why ads in which a young woman says, "The obstacle to obtaining my dream job was my skin," actually get on the air. Or why a famous Dominican sports star would show up at a Latino event looking like he was on his way to an audition for "White Chicks 2."
Sammy Sosa's publicist told the Chicago Tribune today he's so pleased with the results from his new skin-care regimen that "it may be something he will be endorsing and marketing in the United States in the near future."
It's a "post-racial world," but all is still fair.
It's the easiest joke in any comic's repertoire: White folks do stuff like this! But black people do it like that! Or, as Homer Simpson once pithily explained, "It's true. We're so lame." It's the humor behind Stuff White People Like and Good Hair. Or, more recently, in the unusually powerful and revealing Twitter trending topics of #whitethoughts and #blackthoughts.
The Internet, for those of us old enough to remember dial-up, was supposed to be the great democratizer. It wasn't supposed to matter here what color you are. Turns out racial identity doesn't actually go away when you're sitting in front of a keyboard.
That point was illustrated neatly last week on the Awl, when Gawker alum and white male oppressor Choire Sicha wrote a provocative post about racial differences in online style called "What Were Black People Talking About Last Night?"
You can imagine how well that went over.
But Sicha made some astute points. Twitter, he explained, is where we finally really have a chance to mix it up/see how the other half lives. "MySpace and Facebook and (LOL) Friendster didn't have anything to bring different worlds together," he explained. "Your ‘social network' was only yours." But anybody can tweet. Anybody can hashtag their way to glory -- and everybody gets to see what's gaining trending heat. Twitter may be the ultimate online crossover act. And as Sicha pointed out, a new Pew study shows that 26 percent of African-Americans online use status update services like Twitter, as opposed to 19 percent of whites.
Why? Twitter's run by white guys. Its appeals -- its enforced succinctness, its phone-friendliness -- aren't race-specific. And the moment anybody wonders aloud why people demographically use social networking differently, one instantly runs the risk of turning into a lame routine in a basement club. Or worse, a hilariously earnest CNN trend story. OMG black people have discovered the Internet!
On her "But You're a Girl" blog, Adria Richards posed that "I think black people like Twitter because it's fast; you can you can get reactions are other folks instantly," but added the important caveat that "Black people like to get together just like people of all other races."
Of course, wherever people of varying pigments get together, you're pretty much guaranteed an outbreak of ignorance. You don't have to look far or deep on Twitter (or anywhere else on the planet, for that matter) to find astonishing racism. (Currently retweeting up a storm: "I am all for Free Healthcare for Illegal Aliens ... when they are in prison with other CRIMINALS.") But on #whitethoughts and #blackthoughts, mixed in with the idiocy and appalling spelling and copious references to mayonnaise and big booty, there are moments of inspired, crowd-sourced fun. In among the jokey stereotypes, it says something about where we are now when an African-American woman tweets #blackthoughts "Oh crap it's raining....no my haiiirrrrrrrrrr..." while others tweet the #whitethoughts "New Moon Omg23 hrs & 12 mins!" and the sadly true "These Uggs match everything, even shorts!"
Our hair and our boots and movies -- the things we ostensibly don't bring with us on the Internet -- still define and in many ways divide us. And it says something else that there are plenty of Twitter users of all shades today calling the whole #thoughts trend racist and #notfunny. Some of it is. But looking at race isn't racism. And not all conversation about color needs to serious and political to be meaningful. If it's true that the way to vanquish an enemy is to make it absurd, sometimes the easiest way to defeat our most stinging prejudices is to laugh together at them.
The Washington Times has been having a rough few weeks. There was a big shake-up at the conservative paper recently, with new top executives coming in and the executive editor getting kicked out, with the staff not informed of his departure for days afterwards. Tuesday was yet another bad day for the Times and its beleaguered staffers.
For one thing, there was a problem with a blast from the past, Editor Emeritus Wesley Pruden, and his latest column. Pruden has always been known for having views on race that might generously be described as disturbing, but he went all out in an attack on President Obama:
Mr. Obama, unlike his predecessors, likely knows no better, and many of those around him, true children of the grungy '60s, are contemptuous of custom. Cutting America down to size is what attracts them to "hope" for "change." It's no fault of the president that he has no natural instinct or blood impulse for what the America of "the 57 states" is about. He was sired by a Kenyan father, born to a mother attracted to men of the Third World and reared by grandparents in Hawaii, a paradise far from the American mainstream.
(Hat-tip to Gawker.)
Then there's RIchard Miniter, the paper's editorial page editor, who's been MIA for some time now. Now, it seems, we know why: He's reportedly filing a discrimination complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, alleging among other things that he was forced to attend one of the mass weddings put on by the Unification Church, whose leader founded the paper.
STOCKHOLM -- Der Spiegel has corrected this story since it was published.
The founder of Ikea, the international Swedish home furnishing chain, is one of the richest men in the world. Yet Ingvar Kamprad is widely considered to be something of an average guy who lives a modest life. He's just like his furniture; simple, honest and a little wooden.
Anecdotes that support that image abound. The Swede from Smaland reportedly still has a 30-year-old "Klippan" sofa in his living room, along with another early classic developed by the furniture giant, the "Billy" bookshelf. These sorts of stories not only illustrate Kamprad's modesty, they also testify to the long-lasting quality of his modestly priced furniture.
The man who wants to turn this pleasant image on its head is Johan Stenebo. Stenebo, who comes from Stockholm, started working at Ikea more than 20 years ago as a trainee in the Kaltenkirchen warehouse just north of the German city of Hamburg. His career trajectory took him right to Ikea's highest management level. He was managing director of Ikea's subsidiary GreenTech and he even worked as Kamprad's personal assistant.
Stenebo left the company nine months ago after disputes with the management. Now he has written a tell-all book, "Sanningen om Ikea" ("The Truth About Ikea"), that has attracted much attention in Sweden. It is the first time in the more than 60-year history of Ikea that negative comments have been made by a senior staff member in public. It's clear that the book is some sort of payback: a mountain of dirty laundry divided into 14 chapters.
Many Swedes are now wondering why he wrote the book. What on earth could 83-year-old Ingvar Kamprad have done that would make a senior staffer like Stenebo swap sides after so many years on the Ikea owner's team?
Stenebo claims that it was a moral issue for him. "I didn't want to go along with it anymore and I also could not stay silent," said Stenebo. In a dedication to his mother, Christina, at the beginning of the book, Stenebo thanks her for teaching him about the "power of a clean conscience."
The book claims that common preconceptions about Ikea and Kamprad are false. In fact, the author asserts, the entire firm is a tightly woven web of well-hidden, calculated lies. Take the anecdote about the old sofa, for example. These sorts of stories were simply made up by Kamprad and then spread by a willing media, Stenebo writes.
Driving down prices
"The company was easier to run when Kamprad played the role of an ascetic, slightly dim geriatric," Stenebo says. "Apart from that, the petit bourgeois façade helped to push down prices with suppliers." At which point the reader might be tempted to ask if the company would really push for lower prices just to -- in Stenebo's words -- "fatten up" one of the richest men in the world and his sons.
The sons are Mathias and Peter, who were promoted to top management five years ago. The elder son, Peter, in particular has been positioned since then as Ikea's heir apparent. Stenebo, however, calls him an "incompetent racist." And anyone that criticized Peter for his chauvinistic attitude was silenced by the patriarch Ingvar, he says.
These are harsh -- and somehow very un-Swedish -- words. Could the book be a personal revenge of some sort? Stenebo strongly refutes this. He says he is the one who has to worry about revenge -- Kamprad's. According to Stenebo, Ikea is no normal multinational business. The company, with its 135,000 employees across 44 countries, is run by the family and the family alone. And the all-powerful Kamprad runs the business like a sect, he claims. "There was an unwritten law for Ikea's upper management -- loyalty to Ingvar until death," Stenebo notes.
Is Ikea really different from any other big company?
This is one of the reasons criticism directed at Kamprad and at Ikea has rarely surfaced, the author claims. Stenebo calls Ikea "one of the most secretive companies in the world." Much to the chagrin of the Swedish press, Kamprad hardly ever gives interviews. And when he does, it is only to selected journalists who, according to Stenebo, are duty bound to angle their stories the way that Kamprad demands. According to Stenebo, this is how the public image of the furniture billionaire was propagated, with the touching stories of his alleged problems with literacy and periodic lapses into alcoholism.
But is all this really so bad? And is Ikea really any different from other big companies run by one strong personality?
If this is really the "truth about Ikea," then the Kamprad family seems to have somewhat eccentric ideas, to say the least, about what constitutes a good public image. After all, the mega-rich are usually known more for their expensive cars, beautiful lovers or charitable activities than a penchant for schnapps and bouts of dyslexia. But Stenebo's alleged revelations make more sense when considered from the perspective of a prodigal son. "I love Ingvar and admire his unique genius," Stenebo says. The former employee says he is motivated by concerns about the future of the company.
Stenebo accuses Ikea of employing methods akin to those used by the East German secret police, the Stasi. He details an alleged tight-knit network of informers who were able to contact Kamprad directly at his private home in Switzerland via telephone and fax. They were expected to regularly update Kamprad on the atmosphere in the company and to pass on personal gossip. According to Stenebo, the Swedish headquarters of Ikea was apparently shaken by a power battle in the late 1990s, during which time "the spies actively took action to get employees onto Kamprad's side." The conflict went so far that at times there was the feeling that the whole company was "split into factions for and against Ingvar," Stenebo claims. None of which goes down very well in Sweden, where the locals would rather seek consensus.
On the executive floor, Stenebo claims, foreigners were repeatly denigrated as "niggers." They apparently had no chance of promotion within the company -- something Stenebo blames on Kamprad's increasing paranoia. Ikea, in spite of being the world's largest furniture company, is run exclusively by people from Älmhult in the Swedish region of Smaland -- the small town where Kamprad himself grew up. "Born on the farm" is how the Swedish describe it. The importance of blood and place of birth within Ikea is no coincidence, Stenebo claims -- blatant racism exists within the company.
The teflon giant
Around the world, Ikea is heralded as a model global corporation. In a 2001 article, Newsweek described the firm as "the prototypical Teflon multinational" because "no charge ever sticks for long." However, Stenebo insists that this has more to do with the company's cynical and underhanded tactics than its supposedly sustainable business model.
Stenebo also makes accusations regarding the company's purchasing practices. He claims that, while Ikea wants to be seen as a shining example of an eco-friendly company, it also wants guaranteed access to a regular supply of wood. "The key to Ikea's low prices is the supply of cheap raw materials," Stenebo says. "And Ikea's furniture is mostly made of wood."
In politically correct times, collaborating with environmental groups is not just a question of good publicity. Many wood-producing nations are under constant pressure from the international community. Nowadays Ikea sources a significant portion of its wood products from China, Stenebo claims. "I know that even in China you can't buy legal wood for the price that we paid there," Stenebo says.
However, large corporations are often accused of not checking their suppliers' practices thoroughly enough and of trying to influence environmental activists. Clothing manufacturers, in particular, are regularly the targets of criticism. Even if the allegations are true, Ikea would not be an exception in this respect.
Cheaper than a clean conscience
Stenebo gives further examples of commonly made allegations against Ikea, from the feathers allegedly plucked from live geese that go to fill the "Gosa" pillows and "Mysa" blankets (the products' names are both Swedish words for "cuddle") to the carpets in the "Barnslig" ("child-like") range apparently made by Pakistani children. Here, too, Ikea allegedly makes use of skillfully promoted sponsorships of children's aid organizations to effectively defend its image. "The fact of the matter is that a company like Ikea, with its enormous resources, is free to use whichever suppliers they want," Stenebo says. "But instead of using the best, they use the cheapest." Charitable gestures are cheaper than a clean conscience and have the added advantage of being tax-deductible, Stenebo notes.
But why did Stenebo decide to write the book now? Stenebo says that months ago he had a serious argument with Peter Kamprad, the Ikea heir apparent. It became clear to him, he says, that he had a conscience and that he could no longer ignore it. "Economic power means a responsibility towards people and the environment," Stenebo explains. "Peter does not understand that. Women and foreigners were excluded and the environment was consciously abused."
When approached for a statement regarding Stenebo's book, Ikea's press department described the publication as "the views of a private individual." They declined to comment on the details of the book.
What about Kamprad himself? Also no comment.
Stenebo, on the other hand, is confident that his book has long been on Kamprad's bedside table. "Ingvar will be reading the book with his chameleon eyes," he says. "He hates me and he loves me."
The pride in Stenebo's voice is hard to miss.
Since he was elected chairman of the Republican National Committee, Michael Steele has been, to put it mildly, somewhat gaffe-prone. In his defense, though, at least you can say that many of his more embarrassing moments came as aprt of his attempts to make his party more welcoming -- and more appealing -- to minorities. His latest misstep, though, seems likely to set that effort back.
On Sunday, Steele was on NewsOne, a network aimed at African Americans, for a political talk show hosted by Roland Martin. During the program, Martin and Steele had this exchange:
MARTIN: But your candidates got to talk to them. One of the criticisms I've always had is Republicans -- white Republicans -- have been scared of black folks.
STEELE: You're absolutely right. I mean I've been in the room and they've been scared of me. I'm like, "I'm on your side" and so I can imagine going out there and talking to someone like you, you know, [say] "I'll listen." And they're like "Well." Let me tell you. You saw in Christie and you saw in McDonnell a door open because they went in and engaged. McDonnell was very deliberate about spending...
MARTIN: Right.
STEELE: I mean, Sheila Johnson was on his team. I mean, that was a big deal. That's because he engaged her and she helped navigate him through that relationship.
White Republicans, plenty of whom were already less than thrilled with Steele's tenure, arent' happy about what their party's chairman had to say. And you can rest assured, too, that Democrats will want to use this against the GOP, both now and down the road.
In his latest article, Pat Buchanan whines about white-working class voters losing "their" country:
In their lifetimes, they have seen their Christian faith purged from schools their taxes paid for, and mocked in movies and on TV. . . .They have seen trillions of tax dollars go for Great Society programs, but have seen no Great Society, only rising crime, illegitimacy, drug use and dropout rates. . . .
They see Wall Street banks bailed out as they sweat their next paycheck, then read that bank profits are soaring, and the big bonuses for the brilliant bankers are back. Neither they nor their kids ever benefited from affirmative action, unlike Barack and Michelle Obama.
They see a government in Washington that cannot balance its books, win our wars or protect our borders. The government shovels out trillions to Fortune 500 corporations and banks to rescue the country from a crisis created by the government and Fortune 500 corporations and banks.
America was once their country. They sense they are losing it. And they are right.
Excuse me, Pat, but the country belongs to all of us.
Pat comes across as desperate -- rather than passionate. Perhaps desperation caused him to ignore the truth more than usual. He mocks the Great Society as accomplishing nothing -- except for urban blight. But working-class people of all races benefit from Great Society programs like student financial aid. Also, most of the recipients of welfare are poor and white. And working-class people would not have adequate healthcare as seniors in the absence of Medicare -- another Great Society program.
Pat also says whites never benefited from affirmative action. Apparently, excluding people of color from jobs and educational opportunities for centuries never benefited whites, but using race as a "plus" in college admissions causes an emotional meltdown. Someone give this man a Valium laced with truth serum.
PS: I agree that the Bush and Obama administrations pumped money into the same banks that are among the most culpable parties with respect to the financial crisis. But catering to powerful societal interests is not a recent political phenomenon.
From blogs to mainstream news sites to parenting message boards, debate is raging over a new trio of African-American Barbie dolls. Ever since Mattel released Grace, Kara and Trichelle, at the end of September, everyone seems to have an opinion on whether the dolls are a step forward, fall short of accurately representing real black women or simply continue to perpetuate the same unrealistic beauty ideals as the original Barbies.
So, why is this conversation happening now? After all, black Barbie dolls have been around for decades. What's the difference? Well, in the past, most African-American Barbies have been nothing more than white Barbies -- complete with skinny noses, dainty lips and long, silky, straight hair -- dyed a few shades darker. The new dolls, designed by Stacy McBride-Irby and inspired by her own young daughter, are (finally!) meant to reflect what black women actually look like.
But not everyone agrees that they do. The dolls' lips are fuller, and their noses wider, yet many critics aren’t happy with the hair. Although one of the new Barbies has curly, shoulder-length locks, another has impossibly shiny, delicately wavy, light brown hair, and the third doll has the same long, straight mane as her predecessors. As one CNN commenter, who was generally supportive of the dolls, put it, “the hair is still a step backwards, since most of our hair is not straight and light brown." One woman interviewed for an Associated Press article thought the dolls would be more realistic with “a little short afro, or shorter braids.” On the Black Voices message board, where many seemed to support the new Barbies, one writer said, “I would love to see a variety in the hairstyles of the dolls -- some permed, some natural.” But, she wondered, “Would the naturals sell?” The Telegraph notes that the line includes a particularly questionable accessory: A “hairstyling set that allows girls to straighten their dolls' hair completely has alarmed observers, who say it will fuel the ‘beauty issues’ that many black girls have.” According to Sheri Parks, an associate professor of American Studies at the University of Maryland, "Black mothers who want their girls to love their natural hair have an uphill battle and these dolls could make it harder."
Others point out that the dolls may be just as damaging to girls’ body image as original Barbies. As Joy Behar so eloquently put it on “The View,” “Black or white, they're still anorexic with breast implants.” Another Black Voices commenter advised those who didn’t like the dolls to find more educational toys for their children: “Instead of buying dolls for their daughters, but [sic] them circuit board kits or scientific kits that teach them about science and technology so they can get a head start on the rest of the kids.” One mom quoted in the Sacramento Bee agrees that Barbies are simply to be avoided, especially for her multiracial daughter. “It's harder to find dolls that she can totally identify with because she is black, white and Filipino,” Allison Crumley told the paper. “I don't think toy companies are realistic. They need to diversify, especially for multiracial kids. There are so many different cultural blends. Maybe they are just overwhelmed with the possibilities.”
Yet many parents -- of all races -- are thrilled about the dolls. And there are certainly aspects to celebrate: Although one of the dolls is characterized solely as a cheerleader, the others are impressively career-oriented. While Trichelle favors art and journalism, Kara is fond of math and music. (Remember, this is coming from Mattel, the company that, in the ‘90s, offered a talking Barbie who said “math class is tough.”) Each doll also has a designated “little sister” to emphasize the importance of being a role model. So, as much as I agree with the criticisms and hope they will be taken into consideration for the next generation of black Barbies, I can’t deny that the new dolls are miles ahead of their predecessors. Considering that Mattel’s other big idea for this season is to rebrand Barbie as a “Fashionista," it’s hard to find too much fault with a set of dolls that has some depth.
