Home » Archive » Black, pink, brown, white

, written by Jeremy. Read the commentary.

A few months ago I was talking to a guy I grew up with. We were chatting about work. Me flashing over to Paris for international meetings and him driving truck. We had started out in the same place but now there is, literally, a world between us.

My friend’s dad used to have this tiny tank filled with oil and multi-colored sand of different grits. You’d shake it all around to mix up the sand and then put it back on its stand. The stand had this little motor that rocked the tank back and forth to get a wave going. Eventually, with the motion of the oil, the sand would sort itself out into individual layers – black, pink, brown, white.

We can all nobly chastise ourselves into thinking we’re all the same — but we’re not. There’s layers between us. We see the world differently and to see it my way you have to do as I do. Be as I am. Go where I’ve gone. Until then, we’re different.

The waves came. We settled out.

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