Content Notice: This article contains discussion of racial discrimination

Merriam-Webster defines the word ‘exotic’ by means of four descriptions: introduced from another country, not native to the place where found; strikingly, excitingly, or mysteriously different or unusual; of or relating to striptease, involving or featuring exotic dancers; foreign, alien. With each definition evoking a sense of otherness or, at a push, abnormality, what this vivid impression alludes to is a societal outsider. Evidently, this adjective is not an appropriate descriptor for a person of colour. As a matter of fact, it can be classed as a microaggression — a statement interpreted as an incidence of indirect, subtle, or unintentional discrimination against a racial minority. It should seem apparent that a term primarily employed to describe fruit, geographical locations, and animals would generate a rather dehumanising effect when applied to people. Yet the concept of women of colour possessing an ‘exotic’ type of beauty persists.

“A woman of colour is reduced to her racial origins, appearing as nothing but the colour of her skin”

As a schoolgirl, I was told by my classmates, who had decided to entertain themselves by describing each other’s appearances, that I was exotic. Though they smiled as they said this, and everyone nodded encouragingly at me while insisting that ‘it’s a compliment’, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the covert implication was a derogatory one. The fact that the categorisation had been declared by a pack of predominantly blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls (all inheritors of the formula for Eurocentric beauty standards) immediately established the impression that I was regrettably different. Rather than being described as an ethereal beauty, or classic, or athletic as my peers were, I was ‘exotic’, a word charged with ethnic connotations. From this, I understood that, as an ethnic person, one is regarded as something of an outsider in the Western beauty industry, an outcast who has failed to conform to the coveted Eurocentric canons. While a white woman’s appearance is multifaceted and adaptable, a woman of colour is reduced to her racial origins, appearing as nothing but the colour of her skin.

“No matter how positive the intentions behind the use of a micro-aggressive term are, they do not outweigh the negative emotions experienced by those impacted”

This micro-aggressive behaviour is unfortunately not limited to juvenile surroundings. On a French exchange, my host family, comprising a middle-aged married couple, attempted to guess my ethnicity throughout the entirety of dinner as I endeavoured to eat my meal. Cries of ‘Egyptienne?’, ‘Pakistanaise!’, and ‘Elle est certainement exotique’ disrupted my meal and made me feel like a creature under inspection, trembling in my test tube as they examined my every feature. I was no longer an equal partaking in a collective conversation; I was a spectacle, something to be momentarily viewed and not valued. The way in which our identities are incessantly swept under the umbrella term of ‘exotic’ demonstrates how, to certain individuals, ethnic minorities are indistinguishable from one another, reinforcing an ultimately normative and superior Western worldview.

This outlook proves difficult to dismantle, though. For a society raised on and continually fed media rooted in Eurocentrism, how do we progress? It is a particularly arduous task given the concept of white fragility, a phenomenon by which particular people avoid discussions or accusations of racism to evade guilt — or sometimes deny it altogether. Most of those who use the term ‘exotic’, while intending it as a compliment, refuse to take accountability and refute any claims of offence. No matter how positive the intentions behind the use of a micro-aggressive term are, they do not outweigh the negative emotions experienced by those impacted.

In the instance that ethnic minorities do express their feelings of discomfort surrounding such microaggressions, they are often met with criticism and rebuttal, with victims quickly being dubbed ‘snowflakes’. Here, instead of a white person being held accountable for their transgressions, an ethnic person is somehow blamed for being overly sensitive. Why must white comfort be valued over ethnic suffering? Since when was it a weakness to counter discrimination, no matter how ostensibly minor the act? For ethnic minorities, groups that already experience a constant sense of feeling unwelcome in the Western cultural landscape, it is crucial that even the seemingly smallest cases of marginalisation be terminated. Only then can we actively work towards attaining racial equality.

I am aware that, in the eyes of some women of colour, being called exotic is considered a form of praise, allowing them to appreciate their individuality and rareness. However, when you are repeatedly informed that your beauty is of an alternative, second-rate kind, or that every aspect of your being is solely related to race, the term becomes grating. As someone who has been labelled as such constantly, and has witnessed countless occurrences of racial discrimination, fetishisation, and microaggression in day-to-day interactions under the guise of flattery, it seems that each action is rooted in a colonial mindset — a sense of ownership and superiority — and to ignore this mentality is to encourage it.