"Mestiza"

Last class we discussed the popularity of skin whitening creams in Asia. Where I come from, which is the Philippines, the culture of wanting to emulating anything remotely Western is very apparent.
The Philippines was colonized by the Americans. I regret to say that while most Filipinos view Americans as, for lack of a better term, those "manipulative bastards" who promised our freedom but instead tore down what used to be our charmingly distinct Manila to make way for cinemas and shopping centers, we still somehow view them in the highest regard. Maybe it's because media largely promotes Western values, and globalization in the establishments of McDonalds and Starbucks chains have given us the impression that the American way of doing things equate to progress. Caught in the illusion, we forget that it is because of them that we lost our cultural identity in the first place (no offense, but the evidence lies in history).
Which is probably why many Filipinos turn to skin whitening creams. "Whiteness" is equated to high class standing. While Americans view tanning creams as a sign of leisure, most Asians resort to skin whiteners to suggest wealth. It also implies staying OUT of the sun to give the impression of being sheltered and not having to do any physical work.
Interestingly, back in my days at an all-girls Catholic school I experienced prejudice for the ironic reason that I was white. (I am Filipino but of Spanish descent, which is termed "mestiza.")
One memory stands out particularly in my head. In third grade, a friend of mine grabbed a hold of my hand and commented that my skin was "nice and white" and that my palms were really smooth. What seemed like a compliment was followed up with, "that's because you don't do any chores, like WE do."
That's segregation at play, and I recognized it at a young age. Recalling that experience, I realize that the definition of beauty is context-specific. I felt out of place because in a class of fifty other girls I stood out as seemingly American, and it was not something I was particularly proud of. In fact, I felt ashamed of my skin color, because in my old school, being dark meant belonging to the prevailing social class, and THAT was "beautiful." I was the minority, and for that I felt embarrassed.
So, despite the persuasive power of media in defining beauty, it is not the only factor that determines the ways in which we view things. As we have learned, it really has a lot to do with how people make meaning of the things around them.