What color would I be? What color am I?

A preacher put this question to a class of children: "If all the good people were white and all the bad people were black, what color would you be?" 


Little Mary Jane replied, "Reverend, I'd be streaky."


So would the preacher.


Attempts to hide your streakiness will sometimes be successful, always dishonest.


Anthony de Mello - The Song of the Bird, page 129.
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Me? I'd be striped, like a zebra. Actually, I'd be more like an okapi.

Or perhaps I'd just be dark brown - with no stripes at all.
Wait, I am dark brown.


PS. There isn't enough room on this blog to explain how angry the question made me. The saddest part about it is that I have no doubt that there are many preachers and teachers and other types of idiots who would not hesitate to use such horrible, insensitive, racist imagery.


But the point here is not to allow my blood pressure to rise over bad memories of misguided preachers and incompetent teachers. The point here is that I am spotted, striped, and streaky. Mine is a judgmental, angry, lonely, needy, hopeful, joyful, exasperated, exhausted, peace-seeking, grateful soul. I am a walking, twitching, jangling bundle of contradictions. I'm not afraid to admit it. Publicly. Openly. Shamelessly.