By José Dominiguez, September 17, 2020 — When Beatriz, my daughter, was eight years old, I used to sing her infantile songs from a Mexican Spanish author known as Cri-Cri. Cri-Cri is the greatest songwriter in Mexico of infantile music. One of my favorite songs was “La Negrita Cucurumbé,” (Little Blacky Cucurumbé.) I love the song because of the rhythm and the message. It’s about a little girl that goes the sea to try if the white waves could lighten her black face. The song lyrics continue: She wanted to be white as the moon, as the waves’ foam. But suddenly, a fish with a fancy hat appears and says to her, “Oh my gosh, but can’t you see how pretty is your face, Negrita Cucurumbé?” The fish’s message is positive in the sense that all children’s faces are beautiful just as they are. No need to lose the color.
In those times, the discrimination issue was not important to me, and I didn’t think too much about it. At least, for me, discrimination in Mexico was not an issue. Even when, for sure, it was a real problem for lots and lots of fellow Mexicans. In regard to the song appreciation for me, the music and rhythm were enough. Actually, I currently appreciate many songs in different languages, mostly Russian, French, Italian, Chinese, and English, regardless of the literal meaning of the lyrics. But, here in America, I found a different experience that has enriched my musical appreciation, and it’s that understanding lyrics matter.
Several weeks ago, I was playing with Sofia, my five-year-old granddaughter, and I invited her to sing; without that purpose in mind, I played on YouTube, a music video of the Negrita Cucurumbé. She liked the music and accepted to participate, but when I tried to make her repeat the lyrics, she told me, “What is the meaning of the song, Pepe?” So I explained that a little girl didn’t want to be black so she went to the sea to clear her face. She became serious and insisted, “I don’t understand, Pepe, why a little black girl wants to change the color of her skin. Please, tell me, Pepe.”
I was surprised by the exploration of the meaning of the song and tried to explain the situation as if it was only a personal issue, not a social issue. So I told her, “Well, Sofia, people have the choice to select their preferences. Some white people want to have dark skin, and who submit themselves to the sun and put skin darkener all over the body to change color. Some other people don’t want to change color and use hats, sunglasses, and protectors, and some people with dark skin would like to clear the skin with lotion protecting the skin from the sun.” Sofia’s face didn’t change with the explanations. I guess I didn’t convince her. Perhaps she thought that there was another motivation that she ignored.
A few seconds later she told me, “But I think we must love our skin color.” Then, touching her skin arm told me, “I don’t want to change my color. I love it.” After that, I remember how Sasha, her mother, never makes decisions based on skin color. Sasha also has a lot of things regardless of skin color. Another thing that they frequently mention is that for them, Philadelphia is a great and beautiful bubble where friendship is the norm, and skin color diversity is one of the many things that enriches our city community.
Sofia thought the same as the fish of the Cucurumbé song, that every children’s face is pretty. In the song, there is no mention of any social problem. So, for the moment, I kept the girl’s struggle as a personal issue.