The nice thing about "not seeing color" is that I move through the world in an insulated, neutral space, totally ignorant of the variety of lived realities experienced by people from different backgrounds than me.
But not seeing color does come with its complications.
For example, the stop light at the busy intersection had a vertical row of gray dots. I didn't know what it meant, so I went through. Behind me I heard a huge bang. In my mirror I saw a three car pile up. People should really drive more carefully.
That night I went to a basketball game. All ten players were wearing the same grayish uniform. How did they know who to pass to? Was it ten against none? It was really confusing. After the first quarter, I couldn't figure it out, so I left.
The next day I went to the art museum. I'd been told the exhibit was full of vivid depictions of nature that would leave me awestruck. But all I saw was a bunch of gray trees and gray rivers and a big gray ball in the sky. Snoozer! Never going there again.
This is what happens, I guess, when you don't see color. You miss out on a lot of what the world has to offer.
The good news is that all my colleagues are just like me, and I don't have to keep talking about race and identity and underrepresentation all the time.