First Thoughts on Being Color Blind

I am a little fish swimming in a sea of white privilege. I was made aware of this by participating this weekend in a two day anti-racism training. I would not ordinarily pay much attention to this on my own.

It's being color blind; there are certain things I simply do not see. When I opened my computer this morning an ad featuring a well-to-do black couple came up on my screen. Before this weekend I would have thought, "it's great that since Obama's election we have more people of color being represented in a positive light," if I thought anything about it at all. This morning I think, "what sort of message is being communicated here? The woman and man are both thin, small-nosed people. Her hair is straight, they are both well dressed, slick. They're conforming to a certain standard that has been set by the white world. They are not a challenge in any way to the status quo; they are a message of assimilation. How is this really different from having a white couple portrayed?"

And the thing is, I don't really know the answer to that question. Perhaps this sort of ad is celebrated in the black community. More probably the reaction is mixed. I would have to find some folks of black African descent in my social network and then ask them how they feel when seeing an ad like that. They would have to be willing to spend the time to inform me -- and risk the vulnerability.

As an introvert my natural tendency is to divide the world into two categories: what is familiar and what is dangerous. I tentatively and shyly approach what is familiar. What is dangerous I try to avoid.

Because I am white I can comfortably do this. I am not forced to learn someone else's culture simply in order to be able to survive. I don't have to know, for instance, the proper ways in some of our more common Hispanic ethnic groups to address an elder. I do not have to carefully attend to the nuances. I can be color blind.

It's unsettling to know that people of color have to accommodate me in certain ways simply because I am white. It is sad to me that there is a built-in power dynamic in all my friendships with people who have been marginalized. I would rather not have that sort of privilege. Ignoring it, however, does not make it go away. Color blindness is never a cure for racism.

When I lived near the Wind River Indian Reservation and began to have friends who were Arapaho and Shoshoni, my two categories of "familiar" and "dangerous" expanded. I learned a multi-faceted way of seeing individuals within the context of their cultures. I am still like a bull in a china shop in those worlds; anywhere I put my foot something could break. My friends are always having to whisk the more fragile things out of my way. Simply put, I am not as adept at learning a second "language" as people who are the object of racism are forced to be.

I pray that God help me work on all the nuances and aspects of white privilege and racism I can, that my community support me in this work, that we all grow less color blind.