It’s summer. The sunny weather beckons me to go out for a morning jog, despite the global pandemic. Parks are free to roam as long as physical distancing rules are followed, so I lace up my shoes, download a hot playlist on Spotify, and get ready to run some laps at my local greenspace.

My mom stops me before I leave the house. “Put on some sunscreen,” she barks at me. “Do you want to darken your skin out there?”

If I don’t want to expose myself to cancer-causing sun rays, I probably shouldn’t go out without some SPF. But my mom doesn’t seem to care much about my skin health. She’s more worried that I’ll tan a couple of shades darker. She believes that having darker skin will make me less beautiful.

This isn’t the first time I’ve heard something like this from my Asian immigrant parents. Where they come from (Hong Kong), dark skin is seen as an undesirable feature, whereas fair skin is seen as more attractive.

In fact, fair skin is admired as the beauty standard all over the world. Bollywood stars with lighter complexions always land the biggest roles, while those with dark skin are only backup dancers. Skin whitening products are sold in Japan, India, Korea, Sri Lanka, Vietnam, the Philippines—pretty much all over the continent of Asia, claiming to help people achieve a lighter skin tone.

This preference of light skin over dark is present in North America, too. One way to spot it? Take a look at advertisements for American or Canadian makeup and fashion brands. White and fair-skinned models are almost always the center of attention. Although there may be some black models, those with lighter skin are still put in the spotlight. Dark-skinned models are often whitewashed, if they’re included at all.

Dark-skinned people simply aren’t treated the same as those with lighter skin. It’s called colourism—prejudice against people with dark skin. Someone with a dark complexion is more likely to be discriminated for their colour, even more than their light-skinned friend of the same race.

While colourism isn’t exactly the same as racism, the two ideas are closely related. The most privileged racial group is white people, so it’s no surprise that mainstream beauty standards revolve around them, too.

Society will never tell a white person that they are ugly or unlovable because of their skin colour in particular. Meanwhile, racial minorities are told to be ashamed of their dark skin, and there’s barely enough diversity in the media to tell them otherwise. These same minority groups are denied opportunities and resources such as jobs and healthcare, simply for not having the same fair complexion as a Caucasian counterpart.

As an East Asian person, I have naturally light skin, which grants me a great amount of privilege. Sure, I’ve had insecurities about my appearance before, but none of them have ever been about the colour of my skin.

I’m a member of a racial minority group, so I know what it’s like to be discriminated, to be called racist slurs, to worry about being a target of hate crime. However, I will never personally understand what racism is like for a black person. Just because I’m a POC doesn’t mean I can pretend that I don’t have at least a certain amount of privilege over others.

I love morning jogs. So did Ahmaud Arbery, the young black man who was murdered while going on a jog around his neighbourhood.

My biggest concern while jogging is getting a sunburn. For others, their biggest concern is being killed, simply because their skin tone makes them look “suspicious.”

I’ve never had to worry about being attacked by police, because my light skin tone allows me the privilege to be unaffected by black-targeted police brutality, and the stereotypes associated with dark skin.

I can’t ever know what it’s like living as a black person in a society riddled with racism and colourism. But I can use the privilege that I’ve been granted as an East Asian person to speak up against racial injustice.

If you’re a non-black POC like myself, there is no better time than right now to unlearn all the anti-black values you may have been taught. Think about how your family talks about black and dark-skinned people. If they perpetuate racist stereotypes, talk to them about why those notions are problematic. Don’t let any racism off the hook, not even if it comes from your own family.

Black lives matter. It’s easy to say these three words, brush off your hands, and say you’ve done your share of activism for the day. But if you truly believe that black lives matter, you have to make a commitment to stand up against racism. And a big part of that is recognizing where privilege is present in your own life—how you’re free to live your life in ways that others cannot, simply because of the colour of your skin.