As a woman, sometimes it’s hard to balance being beautiful and powerful. I’ve thought about my own role as a woman at work as I take on leadership roles, and how that affects my perceived authority. I don’t want to be too polite and underwrite my own power. Nor do I want to be too harsh and lose my feminine charm. But this week, I met someone who inspired me as a wonderful role model.
Ghanaian Independence Day was Sunday, March 6th. On Tuesday, March 8th, I got the unique opportunity to be part of a celebration of that Independence Day at a black-tie event that included titles like the Mayor of Little Rock Frank Scott, the Governor of Arkansas Asa Hutchinson, Consul General Sherman Banks, and the keynote speaker the Ghana Ambassador to the U.S., Hajia Alima Mahama. It was the first black tie event I’d ever attended, and the biggest titles I’d ever been in proximity to.
The speeches all focused around the connections between Arkansas and Ghana. Her Excellency’s speech highlighted the business connection opportunities that exist simply because of the similarities of our economies based on agriculture and manufacturing with a focus on being good humans first and good businesspeople second. The Russian invasion of Ukraine was mentioned and unilaterally disapproved. Freedom and self-governance were highly applauded.
My favorite part was at the end when they asked all the Ghanaians in attendance to take a group picture with the ambassador. I quickly tried to grab my husband’s phone to take the picture of him in the group while I politely stepped aside.
My husband wouldn’t hear of it. He held me and led me into the picture. “You’re married to a Ghanaian! You count.”
“But, babe, they’ll notice I’m White!”
A man I had never met before saw our brief altercation and joined John’s side. “Come on. Nobody will say anything. Be in the picture with your husband.”
So there I am, tucked in right behind the ambassador, the White woman in a Ghanaian huddle, and I felt so welcomed.
The thing I’m most struck by in this picture though is not the skin tones. It’s the beauty and grace of Her Excellency. She’s is a truly beautiful woman, not only because of the gorgeous style of dress she was wearing, but because of her smile and quiet confidence. She is a woman who doesn’t seem to need to prove herself capable. She simply shows herself to be and allows those around her to see for themselves.
March 8th, the night of the party, was also International Women’s Day and it was an honor to celebrate it with the first woman Ghana Ambassador to the States. Her achievements include things far beyond just being a woman and doing things. She has been a champion for women and children’s rights, maternal health, gender equalization, and a powerhouse of a woman for many years. She’s the type of woman I aspire to be.
Often women are recognized for being “the first woman.” I don’t want to be the first woman to achieve something that a man has already achieved before me. I would rather have a role model like Ambassador Alima Mahama, who has contributed to rulings like Ghana’s Domestic Violence Act and the Human Trafficking Act. Her resume includes a myriad of contributions to international gender equality, without being hindered by her femininity or ethnicity.
The day after the Independence Celebration, my husband and I were invited to enjoy a play with Her Excellency and some members of the Ghanaian community in Arkansas. I don’t know how they managed to find something so appropriate for the occasion, but The Rep theatre in Downtown Little Rock was not only filled to the brim with a gorgeous African textile gallery, including a beautiful Ghanaian flag, but was showing School Girls; or the African Mean Girls Play, set in Ghana in 1986.
The play told the story of 6 girls at Aburi Secondary School and a visit from the Miss Ghana pageant recruiter. But more than that, it told the story of how these women wrestled with the idea of beauty and power and influence. Ultimately, they were powerless to change the fact that for women, power comes through beauty, and in the world’s eyes, beauty comes through Whiteness.
For the characters, the Miss Ghana and Miss Universe pageant meant the opportunity to be seen on a global stage, and to champion the beauty of Africans for the world to see. What they couldn’t achieve through financial or educational opportunities could be coerced under the guise of poise and creative talents. Either win the Miss Ghana pageant to make political changes, or accept the anonymity and poverty of an African woman.
As I was watching the play though, it occurred to me that sitting among the audience was a woman who chose the third option. She marched head-on into politics and made changes while being dark and beautiful.
The idea that light skin equals beauty is backward to me. In White culture, being as light as I am is seen as too light. Many White women use tanning beds and bronzing lotion to achieve a golden sheen. While I’ve come to accept my Snow White skin, it’s not because beauty ads have told me to. Always looking for the lightest foundation makeup color can be embarrassing, especially when the palest one available is still a shade too orange.
I have thought about what John and my children will face as half and half. Amongst our families, they’ll be seen as gorgeous by both sides. They’ll have the curly hair that my brown wavy mop can’t ever achieve. But what worries me is that it’s the skin tone that will make them seen as beautiful by the Ghana in-laws. I value my skin tone, but I wouldn’t want Whiteness as a beauty commodity. Whiteness has been used as a measure of beauty, intelligence, and success for too long in the world. I’m happy for my children to gain beauty from John’s darkness. And I want John’s children to gain beauty from my lightness, not from my Whiteness. I’m speaking of my skin tone removed from the cultural stature of ethnicity. Unfortunately, as the characters in the play fought through, it’s Whiteness, Americanness, that’s truly valued by society.
I come back to Her Excellency Alima Mahama’s third option. She is the Ambassador to America, yes. But it’s the fact that she’s the Ghana Ambassador that brings value. Her Americanness is irrelevant.
As leaders, women face challenges, especially in politics. Many women dress overly manly, in pantsuits to mimic men. Or in understated skirts and dresses to avoid being seen as flashy. Her Excellency felt no such compulsion during her visit. She wore two beautiful colorful dresses that showed clearly what beautiful feminine curves she possesses.
But most of all, it was her sweet spirit that I admired most. There was a moment when a police officer wanted to take a picture with her and she needed someone to hold her coat. I politely offered and one of her colleagues quickly stepped in to take care of it.
Her Excellency said “Let my daughter-in-law hold it for me,” holding out the coat to me. I took it as if it was a mantle of power being bestowed upon me. I never expected to be called like family by someone at her level of government, especially as the White outsider amongst the group. But she was happy to include me. In that moment she wasn’t fighting against the perception of White invasion of Ghana’s cultural events. Or showing her power to command her entourage like servants. She was simply being herself, and letting me have a chance to be included.
As I’m able to continue gaining more leadership roles in my life, I hope that I can lead with the same spirit as Ambassador Hajia Alima Mahama. Her independence, her womanhood, her beauty, and above all, her excellence.
Interesting