Not all color stories in my life have revolved around an interior. In my own life there have been many colorful stories and many color stories, but the one that has been the most intense and, in a few ways, the most complicated, but in most ways, the most wonderful, is the story of me and my husband. He is African American and I am Caucasian. In other words, he is “black” and I am “white” (or at least that is what people see).
In reality, he and I both have many “colors” within us — like a Donald Kaufmann color. I am not white, but a sort of creamy tan and, in the summer, I am a totally different color that is much more dark brown than white. Frank is a beautiful medium brown with a reddish tint and in the summer he gets to be more of a really dark brown. I am a registered Native American from the Cherokee tribe. Frank also has a lot of Cherokee blood but the amount was not recorded.
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We now have an amazing daughter and I don’t even know what “color” she is considered, but I will tell you that in reality, she is a light creamy tan. I look at her and wonder what “color” the world will perceive her as, and what that will mean to her. I think about what I need to instill in her so that no matter what the answers to those questions end up being, she will be prepared to deal with them in whatever way is necessary.
I look at her and I think about how much things have changed in my lifetime and wonder what will change in hers. Maybe she will be the first female president who is not of one predominate race, but many “colors,” all of which neutralize each other and make a whole new “color” that changes with the sun, and the years, and with the world around her. |
