Color Blind

There was a bit on NPR this afternoon on my way back from my failed winter tire buying expedition and a caller came on and talked about how he “doesn’t even see color.”

That phrase drives me nuts. “I don’t even see color.” Bullshit.

I don’t even seen color does not equal I am not racist. It just is not saying the same thing.

The host of the show made a good point about seeing color, but not letting the negative stereotypes of race get in the way of your interactions and my bile drained.

Then Janaki sent me this tonight and everything came full circle:

When I was a kid, my mom did not like me describing people by their race, which I see as different than color blindness. I played soccer with this talented goalie named Erin and he was such a personality, such a cool guy that I never lacked for ways to describe him. I saw his color but when describing him to my mom, it just never came up. She pictured him as a nice Irish kid with red hair for months until she finally met the big black guy that he was.

So, anyway, there it is. My thoughts on race for the day that were running through my head as I ran around, not getting shit done.

Alright, I am off to see how many times I an do five pull-ups, ten push-ups and fifteen squats in twenty minutes. Thank you, Simplefit.org.

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9 thoughts on “Color Blind

  1. I am not color blind, though I remember being amused that I hadn’t actually mentioned that my assistant at my previous job was black. I never described her physically. He found out because I told him about the party we threw when she passed her citizenship exam, mentioning that she was from Trinidad.

    When I was teaching, I couldn’t tell from looking which students were which ethnicities, beyond basic skin color, which meant that I couldn’t look at someone and realize that that person was hispanic. I’m not sure if I get points for that or lose points for being unobservant.

    When I looked over resumes at my last position, okay, then I was more or less color blind, as I was looking at a piece of paper, not a person. Both mnemex and my assistant taught me how to spot things like whether someone probably hadn’t finished college. But race? Ethnicity? Half the time, I wouldn’t have placed bets on gender.

    And I remember a piece of Blake’s 7 fan fiction that had me blinking in disbelief, saying, “Okay. I know that skin color is not the most important thing about a person, but if that person is your lover, it is one of the things you notice and celebrate. So, I am supposed to believe that the oppressive government, trying to brainwash a man they know is hard to brainwash (and this is stated in the story), is trying, for no good reason — indeed, for no reason at all — to convince him that his tall, black lover was really a short, white woman. My suspension of disbelief just cracked.”

  2. I am not color blind, though I remember being amused that I hadn’t actually mentioned that my assistant at my previous job was black. I never described her physically. He found out because I told him about the party we threw when she passed her citizenship exam, mentioning that she was from Trinidad.

    When I was teaching, I couldn’t tell from looking which students were which ethnicities, beyond basic skin color, which meant that I couldn’t look at someone and realize that that person was hispanic. I’m not sure if I get points for that or lose points for being unobservant.

    When I looked over resumes at my last position, okay, then I was more or less color blind, as I was looking at a piece of paper, not a person. Both mnemex and my assistant taught me how to spot things like whether someone probably hadn’t finished college. But race? Ethnicity? Half the time, I wouldn’t have placed bets on gender.

    And I remember a piece of Blake’s 7 fan fiction that had me blinking in disbelief, saying, “Okay. I know that skin color is not the most important thing about a person, but if that person is your lover, it is one of the things you notice and celebrate. So, I am supposed to believe that the oppressive government, trying to brainwash a man they know is hard to brainwash (and this is stated in the story), is trying, for no good reason — indeed, for no reason at all — to convince him that his tall, black lover was really a short, white woman. My suspension of disbelief just cracked.”

  3. I am not color blind, though I remember being amused that I hadn’t actually mentioned that my assistant at my previous job was black. I never described her physically. He found out because I told him about the party we threw when she passed her citizenship exam, mentioning that she was from Trinidad.

    When I was teaching, I couldn’t tell from looking which students were which ethnicities, beyond basic skin color, which meant that I couldn’t look at someone and realize that that person was hispanic. I’m not sure if I get points for that or lose points for being unobservant.

    When I looked over resumes at my last position, okay, then I was more or less color blind, as I was looking at a piece of paper, not a person. Both mnemex and my assistant taught me how to spot things like whether someone probably hadn’t finished college. But race? Ethnicity? Half the time, I wouldn’t have placed bets on gender.

    And I remember a piece of Blake’s 7 fan fiction that had me blinking in disbelief, saying, “Okay. I know that skin color is not the most important thing about a person, but if that person is your lover, it is one of the things you notice and celebrate. So, I am supposed to believe that the oppressive government, trying to brainwash a man they know is hard to brainwash (and this is stated in the story), is trying, for no good reason — indeed, for no reason at all — to convince him that his tall, black lover was really a short, white woman. My suspension of disbelief just cracked.”

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