Acceptance

My father struggled in school. In time, they realized he couldn't tell red from green, yellow from gray, etc. He was born this way--not the norm... anomaly... different. He didn't have a choice. He had a preferred label, but that wasn't what he heard when the kids talked about him.

In the military, colorblind soldiers are invaluable. Next to motion, normal people rely on color to locate objects. Colorblind people rely on shapes instead, making them uniquely adept at locating snipers hiding in lush jungles. This thing he hated saved lives. The labels changed.

Nice feeling--to read that: the labels changed. Regardless, he was still colorblind. Discharged after losing a leg, life went on. Never asked Congress to change traffic lights to suit his condition. No DAV hats.

Technology advanced... surfing the web, I discovered EnChroma-- eyeglasses which grant full-color-vision to many colorblind people.

Holy shit! I bought them immediately!

His birthday--don't remember which one--late sixties maybe. Mom agreed we'd meet at a nursery; then pizza. He read the box--severe skepticism, opened it.

This man--Vietnam-veteran, disciplinarian, staunch conservative, husband, father--saw brilliant, vivid color for the first time in his life. Red petals, green leaves, yellow pots. Son-of-a-bitch, white clouds contrasted by blue sky! He saw purples, browns... real greys. He saw his wife... saw her tanned flesh, green eyes, pink lips, ridiculous orange pants... a world of color.

He returned the glasses three days later.

Labels are just words. People think labels have the power to alter truth. They do not. The creation of the label, cisgender, is a loophole designed deliberately to suggest that truth is optional. This man held "normalcy" in the palm of his hand and rejected it, epitomizing self-acceptance. Diminishing such character by labeling him "cis-sighted" would be an abomination.

Acceptance begins with self.