Most of my life the color of my skin was a distraction for me. I was often teased and called names. I spent more than half of these 50 years thinking my color made me less than attractive. I never ever felt pretty.
I often wished I could remove the color to force folks to see me. I wanted to force folks to get to know me, to disregard the labels and see past society’s ruler. I wanted to be judged based on the content of my character not the shade of my skin.
Imagine if we were forced to purchase yarn blindfolded, the determining factor would be how it felt to the hand. The hue would be an afterthought, right? The shade wouldn’t distract us until after we had fallen in love with the content. Imagine a world that was forced to do the same. A world where we are required to know a person vs. a stereotype.
Yes I knit, yes I enjoy visiting yarn shops, no I don’t expect you to follow me around the store, unless you plan to assist me. Don’t be distracted by my outward appearance and form an opinion based on what you think.
When I took this picture and accidentally applied the B&W filter, I instantly thought yes look at me, not the brilliant shades, just me.