Re: Colour Blindness

So my friend and fellow blogger Harrison have entered an interesting conversation about whether discussions about race help or only amplify the problem of racism. Before reading on, catch yourself up on the dialogue by popping over to Harrison Exists! to read the exchange so far.

Harrison, first of all, I want to acknowledge that I’m an outsider in this discussion. I grew up in a fairly isolated, very white community, and never really had to wrestle with ideas of racism. As you’ll note, the story I told was second-hand, indicating that I don’t even have tons of experience with inter-racial interaction to draw upon. You, on the other hand, have clearly spent much of your life considering this topic. So I apologize if I my musings ever step into the territory of ignorance.

Back to your response. You’re right, the notion of “colour blindness” is kind of ridiculous. We’re colored people and we live in a tainted place, right? I guess colour blindness is a bit of a misnomer. I’m not calling for all white folks to shyly pretend that they didn’t notice that the African family in the restaurant was so dark. That would be awkward and silly. Perhaps a stronger vision metaphor would be depth perception: being able to see the colour in the forgeound, but also see the person’s identity behind it.

I think we’re both actually saying the same thing: colour shouldn’t be the most unique thing about you. People should be interpreted as people. I like to think of it as “RSS for personalities.”

You probably already know all this, but I’ll explain anyway. RSS is a web term that’s short for “Really Simple Syndication,” and it’s what lets website owners publish their site’s content as a “feed.” If a website has been developed using proper standards, readers can subscribe to the content in an external reader, kind of like Outlook. They can read the words written by the website author, separate from the context of the actual website.

Imagine RSS for people? It would be like interpreting their souls without the context of their bodies. It’s too metaphysical to really occur in a physical world, but it’s kind of what true friendship is: knowledge of a person that transcends context. If you can learn and befriend and understand the essence of a person, it eventually becomes such that their colour is nothing but decoration.

That was my main point. Not to ignore a person’s colour, but to integrate their skin with their whole identity. It’s not hiding one’s head in the sand…it’s more like deciding to stop commenting on how beige-ish the sand is, and to start digging to see what is underneath. The posture is similar, though.

You said:

”I was made black for a reason. It’s unique to me. It’s a part of who I am. However, the North American solution to people who would hate me for it is to tell people not to notice it.”

That’s not really what I was saying. People should notice your blackness, but they should also be able to look past it. Just like the movie Crash so laboriously and unsubtly explains, it’s important to see past colour, race, class and status to see that people are all individuals. By constantly drawing attention to your race, it keeps people staring at the surface instead of going more in depth.

Harrison, you’re one of the smartest and most clever people I know, and also one of my best friends. You’re also one of my only black friends, and I totally dig that about you. Sometimes for kicks, I introduce you as “my black friend Harrison,” as an awkward and obvious joke. That statement is “funny” (but not really) because it pokes fun at the sensation that the black person is a startling anomaly to be gawked at. But come on, I’m pretty sure if I referred to you as “my black friend” ALL the time, you’d probably kick me in the junk. It’s stupid and kind of racist in its own way. You’re my friend first, and a black guy, like, fourth or something.

In my original comment, I asked if “discussions about race” amplify the problem of racism. I agree with you: no, discussions about race are really quite healthy. It’s when race is talked about for no other reason but to point out its existence that it gets mildly unproductive.

Like you noted about my story, X was to blame for W’s problems. Not because he was racist, but because he was just making far too big a deal about W’s blackness, and it eventually came to define her. Similarly, you know that your colour sets you apart, especially in a town like Abbotsford. Your colour is a very important thing, but to let your identity rest on it is to ignore the rest of you. Your skin envelopes you, but it shouldn’t consume you.

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