By Kay Heitsch
Today, I was thinking about my life. I grew up colorblind; when I say colorblind, I'm talking about people.
I remember being called "Nigger" when I was a child. I had no idea why or even what the word meant. I've always had an olive complexion, so I suppose now my coloring was the reason.
Years later, I met up with a friend I had known for years. I asked my husband and son if this friend was black. They looked at me and said, Yes. I was shocked because I had never noticed it before.
I feel comfortable around all people. I worked with a gal who told me she couldn't figure me out. Then, one day, she told me she finally had. She decided I must be a black person trapped in a white person's body. To me, this was a compliment!
We had 11 foster children live with us over the years. I was asked if I wasn't concerned that people would think these children were mine. I found this an odd question because I had never thought of that.
I decided to have my DNA tested. When I told people I would do this, I found their reactions interesting. My Mexican friends thought I was Mexican, my Italian friends thought I must be Italian, my Latino friends were sure I was Latino, and even my black friends figured I must be mixed.
I feel blessed that I grew up colorblind. The color of a person's skin is not relevant to me. I love that people of other cultures think I belong with them. I do! We are all children of God!
