I have noticed a distinct trend on campus around this time every year, as the leaves begin to change, the sun hides and the air starts to bite. Call it "that time of year" again, call it what you will, but it is tanning time. Every pale person flocks to the UV beds in a fevered attempt to regain that lost tinge of summer sun. Herds of concerned fashionistas apply bronzer, blush, creams, lotions and potions to preserve their beauty.
As I learned the hard way over fall break, this is not the time to be purchasing the fairest hue of concealer at any department store.
Amidst this beauty-conscious frenzy, let's zoom in to a DePauw classroom, to a class I attended this Monday. While I sat and contemplated the eminent social ostracism that I was sure would result from my failure to spend the past week in an artificial sun coffin, the discussion in the classroom turned to the ethics surrounding skin color.
To my surprise, in countries where white skin is rare, people go to extreme lengths to lighten their skin. Bleaches, cream, sun-proof clothing - you name it, it is utilized.
Immediately, I noticed the connection between this ethical dilemma and the social trend I was noticing on campus. We seek to define ourselves through our style decisions, because style is a personal choice. We actively craft a persona that we want society to associate us with and ultimately define us by.
Yet there is a distinct difference between choosing a trendy sweater and choosing to use a skin-altering cream. When we alter our physicality, the conversation turns from a discussion of fashion to a discourse in ethics.
But why is there such an obsession with color? We live in a country where we strive to be colorblind and advocate equality, but color cannot be ignored. Time and technology have allowed color to become malleable.
Many of us now try to adjust the color that we were born with. With relatively minimal effort, we can make ourselves lighter or darker. Yet, as a society, we still assert that this malleability is inconsequential: it doesn't matter what color we are, but rather what matters is who we are, what we do, what we believe.
In this sense, all colors are equal, but we still acknowledge the variations. When we tan or bleach our skin, we are conscious of color. When we watch a debate between Governor Romney and President Obama, we are conscious of color. But we accept this. It is at a place like DePauw where we learn that colorblindness solves nothing.
Rather, when we can discuss how color defines us and explore the link between color and culture, we grow. When we engage in a Unity Step Show or a discussion at Peace Camp about the rights of Latino immigrant workers, we grow.
It is this unity, this recognition of a common humanity regardless of skin color, that makes the DePauw experience so valuable. Regardless of whether you are a victim of the fall break tanning tantrum, or if the department store simply does not make concealer light enough for you, our color variations are to be embraced.
- Grauer is a sophomore from Rocky River, Ohio, majoring in political science and art history.
