As the leaves start to change to a beautiful mélange of reds, browns, and greens, my feelings of autumnal awe are dampened greatly. Those quirky Brown Ugly Christmas Sweaters provide no solace to these cold winter nights. Fun PowerPoint color schemes and flashing LED displays cannot excite me in the same way as my fellow classmates. As a member of the colorblind population at Brown, I wish to use this medium to now vent/blame my parents for their mutated genes. I always fail the IMPACT test, get frustrated when menus use red font (cough cough ANDREWS cough cough), and have serious issues going to the RISD museum (boy, do they love their complimentary colors). Although I can generally tell the difference between red and green, the mashup and subsequent confusion of these colors becomes much more apparent as we move into December. As a freshman meeting many new faces, when my colorblindness does come up, here are a few of the typical reactions I get.
The Stupid Questioner
The most common reply is the commencement of an oh-so-original game of 20 questions. “What color is this?” they’ll say, while pointing to their burgundy sweater. As I throw the usual shade with a stoic glare, the questions always continue. “Can you even drive?” (yes) “Christmas must be hard” (Christmas is bae). “So I guess you’re not a fan of the red Starbucks cups” (Coffee is coffee. #bluestateisbetter). “What about that dress—” No. Please. Just no. Stifle the unnecessary quiz; my three midterms this week have been enough.
The Scientist
Certain people seem to have the need to read the Color Blindness Wikipedia page to me. “A genetic anomaly?” Oh, hotter words have never been spoken. “Your dad must be colorblind.” Yes, in fact we share membership to an exclusive colorblind club. “Your cones and rods blah blah blah XY genes blah can’t be a pilot.” Also, telling me that I’m “one in two hundred” will: A) not make me feel special and B) not make you special for knowing that.
The Soulmate
“Oh cool, I’m colorblind too.” Wait. Hold up. I’m sensing my third sexual awakening right here. I can hardly believe my ears. Finally, someone who gets it. The little weird haziness when looking at an EXIT sign, being the one kid that couldn’t see the number ‘6’ that day in biology class, always buying unripe bananas. That’s it. I’m locking this man down so we can make color deficient babies and live happily ever after in our red-green confused world.