My life is very influenced
by color. It always has been. My first memories in fact are not of
the soft melody of a lullaby or the chattering of two older sisters,
not of clear images of the faces or surroundings that established
home to me, not of scent or taste or tears or laughter... but of
color; colors that to this day remain my favorite; colors that evoke
emotion and tell me a story just by existing. Color continued to
affect my feelings towards the things that entered and exited my
life, just as I think it does everyone. When I was six though I came
to discover the reason color may have influenced me more than most: I
had terrible vision. So when others were using faces and shapes to
familiarize themselves with the world, my strongest tool was color.
Colors of clothing and places and movies and nature.
But never skin.
I know I have always had a
naive personality, but color and race was never something I saw. Just
recently I spent some time with the group of people that I saw almost
every day when I was younger: my dance classmates. Granted I was by
far the youngest of the crew I was still shocked by my new
unfamiliarity with these girls. The things I would identify them by
now were not at all the same things of my younger self. So much so
that some of them were a race I had never distinguished or assigned
to them before. This awareness disconcerted me, made me actually a
little ashamed. I can no longer see through the eyes of innocence, of
truth, bound by this arbitrary mindset put upon me by the attitude of
America over the past 8 years, and by my own susceptibility to this
influence. Sadness truly overcomes me though when I look at the kids
I work with and see that the small amount of time they should've had
to welcome in the world with open hearts has been torn away. They
instead spend their time judging the world with open eyes and
artificial learned stereotypes. They can not be blamed though, it's
only human to be affected by atmosphere. It is impossible to remain
completely untouched by an entire culture. We cannot expect to walk
through a fire unscathed. Instead it is up to us to put the fire out
with a wave of truth, of humanity, of justice, of brotherhood, of
love.
America spent such a short
period of time coming out of the healing phase. It was a time when
things felt “happy.” It has always rung true that the
entertainment industry and pop culture reflects and is influenced by
the feelings of our people, and vice versa. It has always been a give
and take relationship, but enough truth can be found in the overall
emotion that is given off by television and movies of any era. So
though of course I'm only referring directly to my small corner of
America, I think its safe to say that the “happy” feeling was
generally widespread. I'm blessed to have had a childhood in this
time. I know what it tastes like, that sweet sensation of joy, the
carefree spirit, and I know how possible it is to live like that.
That time should have allowed my generation to grow into the people
who would eventually finish unleashing the unthinkable power of a
united society. But it was cut short. We were stripped of our innate
ability humans possess which was finally effectuated in us to see all
the good, to explore the creativity and uniqueness and innovation of
an age not held back by the confines of branding. There were always
jokes, always stereotypes, always connotations, but not so much that
a person was reduced to a mere culmination of those meaningless
things. The stereotype was assigned to the individual, not the other
way around. That is where we are now and it is a dangerous place to
be. I don't believe there truly is much “racism” anymore, in my
personal experience we don't have the hate in our hearts that is
necessary for that. We can't have it, it doesn't belong to us. We
have fall prey though to seeing race first. As a result of this we
have been forced into “political correctness,” we have become
immensely more sensitive, unable to care for the person next to us
because we're too busy watching our own backs, individually insecure
on every level, fostering a chip on the shoulder of our youth who
have no justification for it whatsoever, the overall lack of trust
and sense of unease, and the list goes on. It has invaded every area
of our lives and blurred all sight beyond color. It all snowballed so
fast, like a ribbon unraveling, but that can also be the saving grace
in a fickle people: the ability to turn everything around and get us
back to where we were 10 years ago so we can start building from
there.
The ease with which we talk
about race could have been a positive thing once upon a time. But
that isn't the case here and now. Especially with the lack of
knowledge and understanding of true history, people need to be made
aware of (or reminded of) what matters. And color shouldn't be on
that list. Race doesn't matter. Yes, cultures should be celebrated,
yes stories should be passed down. Yes, we are all different, we are
each of us unique. But that should not be pointed out in any light
which is not a positive one. We need to be shown what our country has
been through, and has made it through, and we need to honor
that purpose, that mission, that sacrifice. Our way was paved for us,
and all those who dedicated their lives to that purpose, all the
sacrifices made to pave it, weren't made so we can turn right around
and walk back. Inflated news stories and figmental prejudices are
tearing us apart... and for no reason. Justice is blind, and trying
to open wounds which don't even exist in the majority of a people is
setting yourself up for failure. Our differences make us strong, make
our bonds tighter, make our hearts bigger, which in turn creates a
society which is allowed to thrive and shine as an example. So stop
looking down. We're tripping on our own shoelaces. Look up and see
what's in front of you. We can only move forward if our eyes are up,
and we can only move forward together. We have shown in our past that
we are strong enough. We are good enough. We don't need to build a
city of angels. We can build a city of man.
