The Black  Live Matter movement is protesting more than police brutality; it is shining a spotlight on the racial injustices that exist in everyday life. Though it is beautiful to see so many spectacular people coming together to protest, I can’t help but think about the many times I’ve faced discrimination in my life. People of colour are unfortunately forced to face racism at a very early age due to the ignorance of others. I am no different. At the time of the incident, I was unaware of what racism was but upon reflection, I now realize that’s what it was.

It was 1988, I think I was in the second grade and I was at a new school, again. My dad was military, so we moved around a lot. Our “get to know you” assignment was to draw a picture of your family. I was excited, I loved to colour and I had just gotten a new box of Crayola Crayons so I was prepared. I began to draw my mom and choose sepia for her skin colour. Mom had to look chic and dressed in her favourite colour, violet. Then I drew dad, I had to make sure there is enough room on the paper he is very tall, he’s 6’8″. I chose peach, it is the closet to his skin colour, because according to Crayola, he isn’t white;  he is peach with brown hair. I finish the family photo with my sister, Michelle, myself and Tilly, our Black Labrador Retriever. I colour Michelle and I burnt sienna and our dog, black. I was proud of my family picture but the teacher was concerned.

The next day my parents were called for a parent-teacher conference because the teacher didn’t believe that what I drew was my family. I must be lying and needed to see a child psychologist. My mother usually handled all things school related because my dad usually worked or was deployed but he made it to this meeting. Mom was angry and rightfully so, 7-year-old me didn’t understand at the time but I do now.  Mom and Dad show up prepared for this “conference.” The teacher is sitting across from us seeing my family drawing in the flesh and is at a loss for words.

That experience had an impact on me. The teacher questioned my work, she thought I lied about my family. It had me questioning what a family is “supposed to look like” and questioning my identity and uniqueness. I wish this was the only time I experienced something like this but unfortunately, it is not.

“I don’t see colour” is a well-intended phrase of inclusivity. However, it invalidates who we are, our culture, history, the daily struggles; it dismisses why we kneel and why we continue to protest. “I don’t see colour” fails to acknowledge there is racial injustice and diminishes the very real racially charged struggles we face. In lieu of that, colour is what makes the world so amazingly beautiful and unique: from the flowers, the sky, and the birds of the air, the beauty of colour doesn’t stop there. Human beings are an amazing spectrum of colour, beautiful shades of ebony, almonds, brown, tan, ivory, and peach.  What do you see when you open a new box of Crayola Crayons…you see a beautiful array of colours to help to draw and create the beauty that does exist. When Crayola announced “the colors of the world” crayon collection, I was excited to see a more accurate representation of people of the world.  Colour exists and we can acknowledge that but we need to make judgments based on the actions and the character of a person, not their colour.