In my freshman year, we started the color unit in my Art Concepts I class (equivalent to Art 2300 Two-Dimensional Studies in OSU).

The assignment was to find a picture and use the assigned color palettes. I picked a photo of me when I was 4-5 years old and a split complementary palette (yellow, red-violet, blue-violet).

Since my skin was the lightest in the picture, it was a natural choice to color it with the lightest color, yellow. My white friend approached me, asking if it was offensive to color myself yellow.

At the time, she complained that we, POC were too sensitive to putting race into every conversation.

However, wasn’t it more offensive that she brought up the yellow comment?

Wasn’t she the one who brought race into the discussion?

I was purely making a design choice. Since then, I have drawn myself yellow out of spite.

I learned to like yellow.

I learned how empowering yellow could be.

However, it’s only empowering if I’m drawing myself yellow.

No one else can color me yellow.

Yellow is warm.

Yellow is joyful.

Yellow is tender.

Yellow is healing.

Don’t you dare apply the negative connotations to me.

Don’t you dare define Chinese for me.