Can we choose to be color blind?

Some moments are etched into our mind forever. Maybe something joyous like a wedding or sad like the loss of a beloved pet. Maybe it’s an achievement like graduation or a perceived failure like the end of a relationship. No matter the cause, we all have them. Significant moments we rewind and play over and over again.

Today was one for me, because I did something today I don’t think I’ve ever done before. I attended a peaceful protest with my children. The protest was definitely valuable, but that’s not the moment. The moment came in the car on the way home. It was the conversations that preceded and followed the protest that touched me most. When our black children opened up about how they felt about, well, about a lot of things. Everything from stereotypes, to being profiled in convenience stores, to being called the “n” word at school. About the need to “look tough“ on the street so you won’t be taken advantage of and to being afraid to wear nice clothes so you won’t be “licked.”(that means robbed and potentially killed for the obliviously naive, like me).

It really hit home when my 15 year old son said “I just wonder if people can ever stop seeing color? That’s what I really wanted to get up and say. And that thing about when did I go from being cute to dangerous? When did I do that? Because, I know I still look good.”

The comedy relief was certainly appreciated, but I know the sentiment is sincere. He does wonder if it can stop. And so do I. And he is still beautiful, all of my children are. So when do they go from being adorable to being a threat? Ten? Twelve? Fifteen? Eighteen? Please tell me if you know so I can try to protect them from that harsh realization. This type of conversation could be the thing helplessness and hopelessness are built on. Important questions with no answers. At least not good ones. I would have felt that way if it weren’t for another moment. A moment overflowing with hope. A moment that happened about 12 1/2 years ago that I shared with all of my children right then in the car. Lydia, our 13 year old, was a baby. We had brought her home from the hospital when she was two days old. Her Papaw, my husband’s dad, loved her with a fierce and protective love from the moment he laid eyes on her. He held her and rocked her and fed her as often as he could. One day, he was rocking her in his well-worn recliner and he asked me, without an ounce of irony, “Do you ever plan to tell her she was adopted?”

My chin nearly hit the floor, because Lydia is very clearly black and, at that time, every other member of our very large extended family was white. It seemed quite obvious to me we’d have no choice. But not to Ed, because he was color blind. He only saw a precious granddaughter who he thought might one day be distressed regarding this information and he wanted to be prepared for it so he could help her navigate any confusion or emotions this truth might create. I was more hopeful for the future of my children in that moment than I have been at nearly any other point since. Because Papaw answered my

son’s question.

Yes, people can stop seeing color and instead see a person. It is possible. I saw it with my own two eyes and heard it with my own two ears. But, now the tricky part. How did it happen? How did he see past the color of her skin? How did he become colorblind? He first chose to love her. Because no matter what the movies tell you, love is not an emotion, it’s an action. He chose to spend time with her. He chose to invest in her well-being. He worked to lay the initial foundation for an amazing relationship. And as Lydia grew, she chose to follow his example. The two of them continued adding more and more rows onto the foundation until Papaw left this earth. Their relationship was unshakable, because the footings were deep and wide. They built it that way. Together. So, yes, the potential does exist for us to stop seeing color. The real question is, are we willing to make the choices necessary to make it happen? Can we choose to love one another and choose to spend time together and choose to invest in the well-being of others? Because, it is a choice. It‘s not an easy one or a quick fix. It takes time to build a strong foundation. But many hands make light work. If we can commit together to do these things, I believe we can become color blind. I‘ve seen it before. Jesus did it. Papaw did it.

Will we?