Why I Don’t Want to Be Colorblind

A relative of mine is a talented artist and photographer. He creates beautiful, intricate wildlife paintings, digital art, and photographs. He's also fully colorblind. It never really seems to hinder him, though; I could never do what he does, not even close, despite being able to see colors just fine. 

He was recently gifted a pair of glasses that allowed him to see color, and I was there to witness the first time he put them on. As a few tears escaped his eyes, he marveled at this newfound brightness and depth he was seeing for the first time. I can only imagine how intense it was for him. After he’d adjusted to using the glasses, his work began to take on a whole new life. The once-muted colors became radiant, jumping off the canvas with sharp contrast and vibrant hues. It was a transformation to behold.

I've thought about him and others who are colorblind a lot over the last few days. Was he glad he'd been enabled to see the world through new eyes, even though it was only when he wore the glasses? Was it freeing or frustrating that the eyes he was born with limited him and he could only see colors when he wore the glasses? 

We tend to talk about people who are colorblind as though they're missing something and we should be sad for them, so it is truly puzzling to see people taking to social media to proudly announce that, when it comes to skin color, they are colorblind. Why would they want that, celebrate it even?

Color adds so much depth to our world and experience. Why do you think we abandoned black and white television as soon as color became an option? Think of the trees as they turn bright shades of red, orange, and yellow in the fall or the bluest sky you've ever seen or even that cherry red sports car you've been eyeing. Now imagine if it was all monochromatic and all your brain registered was barely indistinguishable shades of gray. Would you find as much joy? Would you notice as many details if it were all mostly the same to your eyes?

Many times I've heard the belief that in heaven we will see shades of color we can't even imagine now because our eyes will be restored to their full glory and capability. Regardless of the veracity of that belief, the underlying idea is that in this hurting world, we only see a dimmer version of what was meant to be. Color was part of God's design, it's going to be even more beautiful someday, and it's just one way He shows His creativity and goodness.

Yet many people who believe that are also happy to be colorblind—at least when it comes to skin color. But why would color in literally everything else be something to celebrate, enjoy, and embrace, but not in skin?

I've come to the conclusion that I don't want to be colorblind. I want to behold the full array of skin colors and tints, and I want to marvel at them. I want to see God's creativity and beauty in each of them, rejoicing in all the diversity, variety, and lack of monotony. I want to learn about what makes them unique, as well as what I have in common with them.

But most of all, I want to live in a world where every person is accepted, worthy, given access to the same opportunities and resources, and celebrated, not regardless of their skin color, but because of it.

That is the world that I want to get better at creating and fighting for.