By way of true diversity, all races should claim own versions of beauty.
Not so long ago, I sat in a nursery class in Wandsworth, South London, where a teacher was conducting a test to discover how the children felt about their race.
She asked each youngster to hug the doll in the classroom that looked most like them.
Naomi, a black girl, at once grabbed a blonde, blue-eyed doll and wouldn’t let go. Tears rolled down her face when it was gently taken from her.
What, I wonder, was the poor mite thinking and feeling? How could it be that even at nursery school she somehow understood this was the most beautiful, desirable doll — the one she wanted to look like?
Too many black and Asian children grow up understanding the sad truth that to have dark skin is to be somehow inferior.
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