Hear Jade’s Story

Each contributing Colour Theory artist created an original essay or story to accompany their visual artwork. You can listen to the audio or scroll down to read. 

Self Taught

I learned what the colour of my skin meant on the internet
really, I am Self Taught

I went looking for a void in which to yell the anger of everything I didn’t yet understand. Somewhere to outsource the sadness and confusion of being deserted here, ill equipped, by the grown ones we’re all told to look up to, to watch, and to see because they’ve spent more time here than us.

But it was in this void I learned about the grown ones

And how they were supposed to teach me how to move my darkened body safely through this place. Safely through experiences and through histories not found on shelves easily reached

And about they were meant to teach me how to love, and how to love myself with fewer expectations of the fetisizations I would see and turn to

But neither could stay here

And either way they didn’t know how to see me, they weren’t able, for in the contrast of their darks and their lights there was no margin for the grey they had made.

But there wasn’t where I was needed to stay, there has never been the end goal

And so the void - sometimes loud and sometimes mean - spoke back urging me to follow closely, tread slowly, but make my way in.

And I did
and it cupped both of my hands so they could fill with the fluids of languages my thirsty roots wound deep in search of.

But it also
stripped me of my clothes and made me stand starving next to bodies that were warm, glistening, and imprinting, but that held no shadows. Bodies that have only knows blue skies

But bright lights create the darkest shadows

Shadows I could move freely in

And I did

And It showed me distant solid grounds where all sharp rocks lay covered in thick mosses, but there the flowers never bloomed.

And it showed me where parched deserts touched with seas too cold to swim in.

It took me to shining cities with gated communities where it scolded me for my body did not glisten correctly

And it took me to dirt streets where it shamed me because I did not earn my strong brown back the same way as the others there.

All the while it never stopped pointing

And removing all my invisible armour

It’s fingers tangle in my curly hair as it strokes my head and whispers reasons to be angry in my ear

And I won’t deny that I like it

By now I am familiar with the deep mahogany feeling of this yearning

And in these moments I’ll fight to hold onto that yearning for as long as possible, forever if it will have me. In it sweet familiarity

But the whispers become ever more demanding of my emotions, my body shakes, blood pulses

yet simultaneously more unforgiving of the natural ugly reaction

Not allowing me to break my gaze from the public degradation of poor brown souls like mine

Or clench my fists to stop the chewing of my lips

By this time I know whats happening, but I cannot close my eyes

Even tho they are hurting

Tear ducts swollen open

Lashes shortened

- - -

now here you are

With me in this space

With a story that must seem to be ending abruptly even tho all sings say we’re only somewhere in the middle of the beginning

To speak earnestly it hasn't all been horrible and monstrosities

There is love here, and I experience it knowingly

but where else can I look to learn what plans a place might have for me

Other than the void to watch, and to see