The Moth - Mirrors: Kujegi Camara & Nyla Gilstrap

Episode Date: February 26, 2021

In this special Black History Month Episode, two stories about self-image and what "beauty" means. This episode is hosted by Moth producer and director, Jodi Powell. Storytellers: Kujegi Camara, Nyla Gilstrap

Attention Houston! You have listened to our podcast and our radio hour, but did you know the Moth has live storytelling events at Wearhouse Live? The Moth has opened Mike's storytelling competitions called Story Slams that are open to anyone with a five-minute story to share on the night's theme. Upcoming themes include love hurts, stakes, clean, and pride. GoodLamoth.org forward slash Houston to experience a live show near you. That's the moth.org forward slash Houston. Welcome to the moth podcast. I'm your host for this week, Jody Powell. This black history month episode, we're talking about a word one can describe as loaded, beauty.

We have two stories for you today. Both deal with some of the first interactions our storytellers had with beauty standards and the ramifications that had for them. It got me thinking about a moment from my own childhood. I entered my first pageant at nine years old when I was living in Jamaica. It was never explicitly called a beauty pageant, although I'm sure that word was thrown in there somewhere, but it was never really that for me. I really had no idea what beauty even was at that point. The pageant for me was more like a talent show where you got to wear your casual shorts and

sing the song you liked. And when I decided I wanted to do it, my whole community got involved. My mother was an English teacher at the local high school, and the class helped me memorize my talent song, and my brother took care of showing me how to walk in my patent leather Mary Jains. The day of the show, they all showed up and watched me take home the big prize at the end of the night. And it really was a great feeling. The boys went hollering through the streets and woke my grandmother up to tell her the great news, and I went home with my gifts. As I unwrapped them one by one, I discovered porcelain and plastic dolls with blonde hair and blue eyes. That looked nothing like me. This moment in my life raised a lot of questions for me. The message

wasn't explicit, but after working so hard on something and receiving these dolls as prizes, the message was clear and loud to me. Our two storytellers this week revealed their own journeys in the world of beauty, images and statements. Our first storyteller is Kujajik Kamara. Kujajik told the story at a virtual math community showcase this past December. The theme of the night was point of no return. Kujajik told the story from her living room, so while you might not

hear the audience, know that we were all cheering her on from home. Here's Kujajik live at the math. Here's Kujegi live at the moth. The nurse walked in and handed me my daughter. She was wrapped tightly in those hospital blankets. You know, the ones with the red and blue stripes. I drew her near to me, put her clothes to my chest. I wanted to share my warmth with her. She was so small, yet so beautiful. I immediately looked for her fingers and I took my pinky and

wrapped it around hers and I just held her. And then it hit me that I'm actually a mother, me of all people. I still have so much growing up to do, can I take care of this being? This gift that God has given me. My daughter looked up at me and I saw how vulnerable she was in that moment completely dependent on on me, of all people. It got me thinking about my first vulnerable moment. It brought me to third grade. In third grade, I was super nerdy. You can argue that maybe I still am.

I loved rainbow color sweaters and one PC jobs and high water pants. I was definitely my flow. I love school. I love school because school brought me poetry. It brought me words. My third grade teacher first shared with me what poetry is and what poems could bring you.

You know, loving school and, you know, it was where I was the most comfortable. It was where I felt that I could be my full self. And naturally, because of that, I was definitely a teacher. It's a pet I loved running errands for my teachers, just, you know, doing whatever they wanted, being in very good graces.

It was a regular day. and I was running another one of the irons from my teacher. She asked me to deliver a stack of papers to a nearby teacher, a couple of doors down. I enter into the classroom and I hand over the stack of papers to Mrs. J. The classroom is bustling because they're all talking. There is a big group of students in the back of the classroom seated on the rug. I am on my way out. I'm about to leave. When suddenly I hear a girl shout across the room, she is so ugly.

And I just stood there in that moment and I felt her words creep into my skin and I froze. I don't really remember much of what happened. I just remember me leaving the classroom. I remember my walk back to my own class, the hallway. It was so lonely, so big, I felt so small, so alone. All I heard was ugly, repeating, repeating, repeating. The silence was deafening. There was nobody there to counter that. Her words followed me. They followed me everywhere I went. When I looked into the mirror, when I wore my hijab,

they were there, they were staring back at me, they were remarking me, they were laughing at me. I believed they were true, because I believed that if she had the audacity to yell that across the room and nobody said anything, and she clearly was in the right. Years later, many, many years later, I still could have shaken. I will see her words pop up everywhere I went. But I decided that I needed to confront her. I needed to face her on head on. I needed to confront her in the only way that I knew how

and that was through poetry, that was through words. And so I am on stage. I am in front of an audience and there is a mirror in front of me and I am performing my poem called Third Grade. And I say, let go of the girl in third grade let go of the mirrors you don't like let go if you don't love yourself nobody else can and in that moment it hit me that I am beautiful and I took my pen and I rewrote it across the mirror and I crossed out her words

And I put a period where I said you are beautiful and it was okay if no one affirmed it It was okay if no one said anything after that as long as I said it for myself. That's what mattered I Did it I finally faced the girl in third grade I did it. I finally faced the girl in third grade. Many, many years away from the hospital scene, my daughter and I have gotten older, but I still find every day to tell her she's beautiful. I tell her every morning just the way I did the day she was born. I tell her she's beautiful because I want to fill her up with words, with beautiful words, so that if she ever had a third grade

moment like mine, they won't cut so deeply. My daughter is three years old now. She's a sassy little one full of huge personality and she loves to get dressed. She wears beautiful African clothes and I want her to stay that way. I love her for who she is. Occasionally she'll get dressed and she'll come stand in front of me.

Mommy, am I beautiful? And I'll scoop her up and I'll put her on my lap. And I will put her head next to my chest and hold her just the way I did when she was born. Even though she's bigger now and she tries to squirm away for me. I look for her pinky a little bit more bigger now and I put it next to my eye and I hold it. And I look into her almond-shaped eyes and I tell her, mama, you are beautiful just the way you are. Thank you. That was Kujaji Kamara. Kujaji serves as the program manager of the community engagement and youth leadership development at the Muslim community network. She's passionate about creating meaningful connections

across different platforms, entities, and people. In her personal time, Kajaji loves writing poetry and giving back to her Gambian community by mentoring young West African Muslim women on their journey to college. And you will hear more from Kajaji herself at the end of this episode. Naila Gailstrap is our second storyteller. Naila told the story at a high school grand slam in collaboration with the

Moths Education Department. The theme of the night was before and after. Here's Naila live at the Moth. Okay, so two summers ago I was on my way to summer camp and this wasn't gonna be my first time, it's actually my sixth time, but it was the first time that I was coming late. So I had to get picked up from the airport from a camp counselor. So I get directed into this white van and I'm there and the counselor tells me that another kid is going to be joining us and I later find out that his name is Benny and that he is so cute. I immediately developed the biggest crush on him. He has this like scruffy blonde hair and he's cracking me up the whole ride there and I don't know if I'm just laughing because what he's saying is funny or because I'm like trying to be flirty. But either way I get to camp and immediately

everyone knows that I have a crush on Benny. So inevitably a couple days later he finds out too. When my friend tells him and he responds, oh, I'm not really interested or attracted to black girls. So you can imagine what that would do to a 13-year-old girl's confidence. I felt so ugly. I remember running into the mirror and looking at myself and seeing that the new Hampshire sun had fried my curly hair and my skin had gotten so dark and I thought that was beautiful, but I guess it wasn't. I was just so confused and like I said, I felt so ugly. So last summer, I decided to take a leap of faith

and go to Barcelona for a month on a Spanish immersion program. And my brother had done it before, so I knew a little bit about it, but he had gone with a friend, and I wasn't going to be going with a friend. So I get there, and I'm sitting in this place called El Mapache, which is in the basement of the residency, and it's where everyone hangs out.

So we're all just hanging out there, and this one girl comes down the stairs. And I kind of recognized her from Instagram because she also goes to school in New York City. And she introduces herself to me as Kosi. And then another girl who sits to my left, her name is Emmy. And she's from Los Angeles. So the three of us just immediately

become the three musketeers the whole summer. And Emmy's white, she's from Los Angeles. And Kosi described herself to me as being black, no cream, no sugar. So that's when I knew that we were gonna be best friends. So we just went on these random adventures, so naturally when we heard about this cliff in Barcelona, where you can see the whole entire city,

we were like, we have to go. So we travel an hour and a half, bus ride, and like weird hike up to this cliff, and we're looking at it all on all of the city and it's so beautiful and these three guys walk up to us. One blonde, one brunette and one red head. And we later find out that they're Australian because of their accent and they're all weirdly muscular

and they tell us that that's because they play rugby so we're like Australian rugby like so foreign, so cute. Like, oh my god. So, Kosi and the blonde guy really hit it off. He was the cutest. She was like doing her thing, flipping her hair. She's very outgoing and very gregarious. I mean, everyone were just watching on,

like looking at the whole interaction and amazement. So, he was like, oh, we should exchange snapchat. Let's hang out one day. She was like, oh yeah,, definitely we should. So when we get back to the residency, we explain to Kosi the ground rules because we're 16. These guys are probably in their 20s. We're in a foreign country. They're strangers. So we were like, when we meet him at the hostel, a couple days from now, we're going to be a couple blocks behind you the whole way, just like keeping an eye on you so nothing goes wrong. And she's like, okay, yeah, that sounds great. So the day arrives and we're at this guy's hostel and he comes down the elevator and he

says a very polite hello to me and Emmy, but really he's just staring at Kosi the whole time. Somehow she already has him wrapped around her fingers. So they're walking and the streets are super busy, but Emmy and I tell each other that as long as we look at her big poofy bun, we're going to be fine. So we're walking and we're staring at the bun, we're staring at the bun and the bun's gone. And I turned her and she knows the bun is gone because her face is bright red and we

don't even want to think about what the consequences of losing our 16-year-old friend with a 20-year-old stranger in a foreign country in which we don't speak the language would be. So we decided to just go back to the hostel and wait it out because Kosi knows that she needs to be back at 10-30. So, thankfully, she strolls in cozy the whole time and they share a little kiss and he goes back upstairs. And so we're waiting for the bus outside the hostel and Emina you're just dying to hear the details of the date. How did it go? How did it go? And cozy was like, okay, calm down, come down, it went really great. And you're like, okay,

we'll tell us a little bit more. And she turns to us and said, he called me beautiful. And I was like, oh, what do you mean? And she was like, he looked at me and said, I think everything about you is so beautiful. I think your hair is so beautiful. And Emmy was like, oh, that's so sweet, but she didn't get it. Because at this point, I'm on my knees

in the middle of the street crying my eyes out, just bawling. And I don't stop until I'm in bed at the residency. Because it wasn't that I needed a white guy to tell a black girl that she was beautiful to believe it. It was the fact that she thought nothing of it like yeah, I know I am. And I'm always gonna be black with a little bit of cream and I wasn't gonna be rocking my own big poofy bun. And my perceived beauty isn't gonna be despite my blackness.'s going to be because of all of me, which includes that. Thank you. Thank you.

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

Yeah! That was Nila Gilstra. Nila is a high school senior in New York City. In her spare time, she enjoys hanging out with friends in central park and playing lacrosse. In the future, Naila hopes to write for the New Yorker, but is currently enjoying writing on her school newspaper. You can check out photos from Naila's trip to Spain in the extras for the episode on our website the moth.org slash extras. After listening to both Naila and Kujaj's stories, we were so curious about what these two incredible women might say to each other if given the chance to discuss their shared

experiences. So the three of us hopped on Zoom to talk about their stories, their conceptions of beauty and where they are now. Both Naila and Kujaj's stories had big time jumps in them. From when they first began their journeys with beauty to where they left off. So we start our conversations at the beginning with their sense of self and the earliest thoughts about what it means to be beautiful. Here's Naila to kick us off. I think for me it was really young like when I started to think about beauty just because, you know, I'm a black girl

who goes to a predominantly white school. And my mom, like in your story, could judge you would always say, like, you're beautiful, you're beautiful. And I was like, I don't know why she's like telling me this so much, but I think she knew consciously that I was getting opposite messages. So when I got to camp, I think hearing, like,

Benny say those words, I'm not interested in black girls. Just put a whole put a name to it. And I was, it was like tangible now. And it wasn't just this little feeling that I had this inkling that I wasn't beautiful. And I was able to identify it, which in a way, I was like, thank you for just like putting it out there. So now I can deal with it. But in another way it it so much harder, because I knew this like wasn't in my head. I mean, so much of what you said, Nile, I like, you know, definitely resonates. And you know, I think there's a question about what is beautiful, right? Because even for me, when I tell my daughter, she's beautiful, sometimes I have to kind of stop myself and say like, what do I really mean though? Calling my daughter beautiful, I feel like similar to your mom now, I have to do that. I think that's my duty, but I also think it's because I believe it. But then it's like, what meaning of you to be sharing with her when I tell her that? Right. I think there's always this dynamic between mother daughter.

It's like, you're my mom, you have to tell me that. But also, every time she would tell me that, I'd counter it with, but nobody likes me or like. So it was very much me twisting what beauty is and to beauty means being desired. And I think I had to realize that that wasn't what she meant. Like if I did something that she was, if I did something that had nothing to do with the pier,

it's like I gave a talk at school or something like that. And she'd be like, I'm so proud of you and like have a conversation with me about that. She'd tell me I'm beautiful, like mixed in that. And I think that's when I started noticing that she didn't just mean like my face. Obviously she meant like what I did today or like how me helping people is beautiful in its own way.

And the fact that I like care about my friends, like she twisted the meaning a lot away from appearance until like personality and things that you do and things that she was like proud of me for doing. So, and that helped to create my own concept of beauty that really straight away from like desire ability and appearance. Right. I think which I think that's a wonderful segue because I was about to ask, what is your concept of beauty? Like, how is the world beauty discussed around you? I'm really curious to hear what you think about that. You want to go for it, Kojaji? I mean, there's so much to parse through and to think about, um, because I do think for a long time, for myself, beauty didn't mean being desired, or being like,

and I remember, like after this incident in Thurgood, I didn't really have a positive association with beauty until I started writing poetry and then people would call my poetry beautiful. They'd look, oh my God, that was so beautiful. You have a way with words. But I think the little girl in me would be like, OK, you guys are always saying that I can do beautiful things.

I can write beautiful poetry. Why can't I physically be beautiful? I think that's literally like my tension with beauty. Kuchaji, you guys keep making beautiful bridges from one thing into the next. You just established one, which is where I'd like to go with you is on stage, right? When you take us to the stage and we understand that there is a mirror that you're kind of looking in an audience present when you tell that story for the first time there in college. My question in particular is, why did you think you had to kind of face that moment in that way?

It was very public, it was very intentional. And I just, yeah, I really am just curious about it. My relationship with poetry is like, I can memorialize words. And so I knew that the only way I could kind of work through these complex feelings I've had about third grade and about beauty, I could have only worked through it in poetry.

But I think the decision to go public and just do it on stage, do it in front of a mirror. Um, was because I have very private moments with the mirror. Every day I'm in front of the mirror, I'm doing my hijab, I'm getting ready to go out or whatever. And so I noticed that when I was in my private spaces, I would take selfies and maybe I'm going out with friends or I just got a new job and I would like actually enjoy taking the selfies. I would enjoy taking a photo. They're like,

okay, I look good, right? And like we should say that to ourselves. But I can't do that in public. And I think it has to do with a very public way that I was kind of told I was ugly and so I felt like the only way I could kind of work through that is to affirm. To do what I do and with myself either in my room to do that on stage. And be okay with the silence that comes after that. Wow, fantastic. Naila, do you have anything to come in on? Anything you'd like to add to that? There's anything that you can relate to and what Kujaji just said. Yeah, I think also the way that you talk so publicly about this experience on stage.

You made me think about the fact that black women believing that they are beautiful is like a protest in and of itself. Like it is such an active resistance. Like you are actively fighting against the system and just simply believing that you are beautiful and believing that you have something to say. And so you just performing that story was not... It wasn't just like something that you were doing for yourself.

Like that was a protest, like a beautiful form of protest. That's just something that I think about often is like me taking care of myself and believing in myself and thinking that I am beautiful is fighting against forces that are keeping us down actively. Wow. I'm giving snaps for all those are wondering what I'm doing. I'm just giving you all the love for that.

And I think I'd like to close and ask if we're considering beauty to be redefined, right? So it doesn't have to be a must-car, a lipstick here, nothing physical. You know, one thing that you do, something that makes you glow inside and out. I think for me, I need to get back into writing, but I feel the most beautiful when I'm writing. It's a tough question, but I think I actually feel the most beautiful when I'm learning, probably. I have that glow.

I like, I learn something new and I switch perspectives. I really, really appreciate this conversation. You know, we talk in the month all the time about telling stories from your scars and not your wounds. That means you have a little bit of separation from the conversation and you're kind of like going in and kind of really, you can really look at it from a place. And I think, you know, these stories are beautiful but they have so much hurt in them. And I think there's so much vulnerability in the stories that you've presented, but there's also so much light.

And there's so much kind of just like, really think about and know that this is a continuous process, right? So I just really, really want to thank you both for being on this journey with me. It's been very, very fulfilling. You know what you said, Jety, about like they're being hurt in these stories, but they're also being light. I think there's also an interesting take on beauty. It's like how how you can nurture that light and that glow that we've been talking about

and how that kind of can coag this within these dark spaces. And I think black women dark spaces and I think black women they find those lights anywhere right and I don't know that for me that's that's beautiful yeah there's hurt here and there's there's pain but we were still trying to find those trying to find those those light moments and I don't know I think to be able to do that, like that action, like you said, Naila being protested and being replaced. I think that's the most beautiful part about being a black woman.

That was Naila Gilstrap and Kujajikamara. You can hear more of her interview on our website, the moth.org slash extras. At the end of our conversation you heard Kajajian Naila reveal what makes them glow inside and out. For me, a natural moisturiser sometimes does the trick for the outside, but on the inside it's a pleasant brush with a complete stranger. Maybe locking eyes on the train or striking up a conversation in the Delhi. No names are exchanged.

We barely know each other. And maybe our only commonalities are affection for plant and chips. Simply knowing that positivity and the potential for community exists out there in this big and sometimes on friendly world fills me up. I want to thank Kujajian Naila for taking us on this journey. Their words inspire me to continue to push up against the erasure I see as a black woman

in and outside of black history month. Beauty remains a very complicated and emotional subject, but when we come together to share our personal moments of hardship or triumph or rebellion with each other, we can start to redefine what it means for all of us. That's all for this week. From all of us here at the Moth, have a story worthy week. Jody Powell is a producer on the Moth's main stage and story slam teams. Jody also directs and teaches with our community and education teams.

She says the spark that ignites her is that moment when a storyteller is center stage and you can feel the audience listening. This episode of the Moth Podcast was produced by me, Julia Purcell, with Sarah Austin Janess, Sarah Jane Johnson, and Jody Powell. Jody also directed Kujaji Kamara's story in this episode. Nyle Gilstraps' Grand Slam story was directed by Julian Goldtagen. The rest of the Moth Leadership team includes

Catherine Burns, Sarah Heyverman, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bolls, Kate Tellers, Jennifer Birmingham, Marina Kluche, Suzanne Rust, Branding Grant, Inga Gludowski, and Aldi Caza. Moth stories are true as remembered and affirmed by storytellers. For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story and to everything else, go to our website. TheMoth.org. The Moth podcast is presented by PRX, the public radio exchange, helping make radio more public at prx.org.

by PRX, the public radio exchange, helping make radio more public at prx.org.