I am not colorblind

Many people with perfectly adequate eyesight and good intentions claim to not see colors. To which I mentally respond "Yeah right!" I know. I’m a snide little lady who enjoys being contrary. The point they are trying to make is that their perception of a person is not dictated by skin tone and I agree that is undeniably a wonderful sentiment. Contrary to what some people believe, racism is far from dead, so I can certainly appreciate those who choose to regard each person as an individual as opposed to a racial stereotype. However, I think that in an effort to be politically correct we tiptoe around any terms that highlight physical differences, the obvious being skin color.

I remember back when I was an undergrad, a friend of mine was telling me about another student. I wasn't sure if I knew the student and the description my friend provided was vague, so I asked her to be more specific. Short with brown hair and brown eyes could describe most of the girls on campus. She hesitated. I waited. "Well...she's...she's a-" A what? "She's a b...a b-b-b." I was slightly amused but mostly impatient. "Just say it!" I demanded. Her words tumbled out as if speaking quickly would soften the blow."She's a black girl ok? Or, I mean, African American. Ok, she's black!"

Uh-huh. I matter-of-factly explained to her that I don't take offense to the term “black.” Why should I? In describing someone else, I don't hesitate to say he is a tall white guy with curly dark hair, or she is a thin Hispanic woman with gray hair and glasses. Once, I was on my way to meet a friend and she arrived at the restaurant before I did. She told the hostess to be on the lookout for a short black girl with a pretty smile (I was flattered), and apparently the hostess looked a bit bewildered. A white girl who dared to refer to her black friend as, well, black? We had a good laugh about it. "How else could I have described you?" she asked, "There are plenty of petite girls who might have walked through the door!" Good point. Supposedly "African American" is the polite term, but I think it's a bit silly. Not every black person in America came from Africa. Ok, technically, everyone in the world can trace their genetic ancestry back to the Mitochondrial Eve who resided in East Africa, but nowadays, most people in North America have quite a convoluted ethnic history. Consequently, the term African American doesn't quite fit, unless one really is from a nation in Africa and also an American.

My youngest siblings decided a while ago that labels like "African American" are often too limiting. If someone is Asian, they say so. If someone is Indian, they say so, but they rarely stop there. According to the children, people are coffee-with-cream, or chocolate brown, or peach, or pink, or tan. I love it. Humans come in quite an array of colors and I have no desire to overlook the fact. Your skin is part of the package. I do take offense when people go beyond just noticing color and begin making judgements about personality, preferences, and beliefs based on the color of some one's skin. Compared to my sisters, I have dark skin and for some reason, many people felt the need to highlight the fact. I like my coppery-brown skin and although I think all of my sisters are beautiful, I have never envied their fairer tones. A few years ago, while on a lunch break at an old job, I vented my frustration. I was sick and tired of being made to feel that I was some sort of ugly duckling. “What’s the big deal?” I asked, “I have darker skin, so what? Why keep making comparisons?” The teenage boys who were sitting with me calmly stated “Oh, don’t worry, light isn’t really the thing right now. Dark will be in soon. It changes, you know.” You have got to be kidding. I glanced down at my arms. “That’s ridiculous. It’s skin. Skin is not a trend.” Well, apparently it is. Consider the U.S. In the not too distant past, fine ladies made ivory skin a top priority. Fast forward  and the cancer chambers know as tanning beds are all the rage. Insert weary sigh here.

In nursing school, we were taught that we would encounter patients from a wide variety of backgrounds and ethnicities. The concept of being culturally appropriate was hammered into our heads. To that end, we were given basic descriptions and guidelines concerning different populations—but with these guidelines came a caveat: Don’t jump to conclusions. We shouldn't assume that because a patient is black, that they love fried chicken .That may be true, but it may not. Every person of Asian descent isn't a Buddhist, every Hispanic family did not move here from Mexico. Don’t fret, there's nothing wrong with having a mental ethnic reference in our heads. We can't help it--our brains are literally built to categorize. However, these wonderful brains are also designed to adapt and adjust to new input. We'll never know everything about everyone, but it's much more fun to learn instead of shying away from questions and conversations.

For about 7 years, my family lived in an old neighborhood in Connecticut. Our neighbors were fair Italians with straight hair, golden Italians with black curls, light brown Hispanics with long ponytails, dark brown West Indians with splendid accents, a Brazilian couple with a pretty peaches and cream baby, our cheerful hippie-ish young landlord, a white man with shoulder length hair. Even amongst my family, there’s quite a range of skin tones. At my grandparent’s 50th anniversary celebration, my brothers and sisters and I looked around the room at our relatives and laughed. A stranger walking in wouldn't even know we were related.

Okay, the point is, as important as it is to be respectful and appropriate, the world is a lovely, colorful place and we are doing ourselves a great disservice by trying to keep our eyes metaphorically shut. Why be ashamed of acknowledging the fact that people actually look different. Avoiding something only makes it seem taboo. Take a deep breath. Relax. Taste the rainbow. Oh wait, that's for Skittles :)