My son returned from his first day at University. Apparently the hour we spent outside the train station where I received a minute by minute breakdown of his day was not enough. Something was troubling him and as is usual, he chose a rather unique way to address it. And as is also always usual, I waited, rather than immediately probing.

"Mum, can I watch what you are watching?"

He'd appeared at my bedroom door several hours later. I was in the middle of an episode of 'The Affair' something I'd repeatedly tried to make him watch downstairs on their screen in the garage; for the sheer cleverness of the production. He'd declined every time. Yet here he now was.

I passed a couple of pillows over and he settled back. I watched but really I was waiting.

"Mum?"

"Yeah babe?" (I know, I know, I call my sons 'babe' and 'hon' and one day I'm going to have to stop. I know.)

"Here's the thing. You asked before who my lecturers were. I said they were good and all that right?"

"Yeah?" My brain was racing ahead but there were too many directions to anticipate.

"I wanted to say... they are all brown."

And so the bomb exploded. A few seconds of silence, as I gathered my scattered thoughts and honed in on the now very obvious direction.

The thing is, Dylan is the least caring of people when it comes to 'colour'. Before we moved down to the coast, he'd been at both a kindergarten and a Primary school where most of the students were a diverse mix of at least a dozen nationalities and yes, colours. His few 'best' friends as a youngster had been an adopted Korean kid, an Indian kid and a Nigerian kid who'd only been in the country a few months.

When we moved to the coast, the first thing he said after his first day at school there (he was around nine at the time) was: "Mum, there's something wrong. Everyone is white here."  I remember this, because it was our first real conversation about colour.

See, in his young mind, colour had not existed. Kids had been kids. He never noticed their skins. Only when removed from the multi-cultural environment to a predominantly white one (I say predominantly because there were a few Italian kids and some Greek ones too - more noticeable during the summer months as they tanned easily and never suffered from 'pink skin burn') did his brain pick up that something was different. He missed the colour see, and felt uneasy without it. Something was wrong in this new 'white' environment.

"Brown."

"Yeah. I don't know whether they are Indian or Pakistani or Sri Lankan... see, it got me thinking."

"Go on?" I could have stopped it here and spoken about the need to not discriminate blah blah. But I knew my kid and he never discriminated on any grounds. This was something different.

"No one cares if they are called white - okay, they use the PC word Caucasian - and you can call someone black without too much fuss these days right?"

"Ummm"

"If I say my professor is brown why is it racist?"

"Well, it is - I guess it is based on the fact that you have identified him or her by the colour of their skin."

"Yes, but why is this racist? I am not putting him down by saying it. I am just stating a fact. His skin is brown."

"I get it, but you're still labelling-"

"No hang in. I'm not doing that! I don't care about the colour of their skin, that's just it."

"You're losing me."

"I know what I want to say. Every single one of my lecturers is Asian - you know - geographically. But if I said to you they were 'Asian' you would think they were maybe Chinese, or Japanese or Korean right?"

I had to concede here. "Yes?"

"Here's the problem. None of them are Chinese or Japanese or Korean. I couldn't find a way to tell you they were all-"

"Brown?"

"Yeah. I mean I have six of them and both the men and the women are..."

I could see him struggling. I knew what he was trying to say, but I waited for him to find the words.

"See I couldn't tell what their Nationality was by their names. So I couldn't tell you whether they were Indian or Pakis-"

"But if you said they were brown, I'd immediately consider them as belonging to one of those few Nations right?"

"Yes! But see, if I said that, it would make me racist, which you know I'm not!"

"Why was it important for you to point this out hon? I mean what if they had all been white? Would you have said to me "Hey mum, they're all white!"

He did think about that. I guess I was trying to see whether there was something else troubling him beyond what I'd already heard.

"Yes, I would have, because I had expected mostly Asian lecturers. You know, the stereotype 'good at computers' thing. So when they weren't, even if they'd all been white, I'd still have pointed it out."

"Okay, what surprised you then was that they were different to what you had expected."

"Yes. I mean they could all have been green or purple. You know that. It's not the colour."

I felt for him. He'd told me at the station earlier about making friends with three students, a Chinese young man in his mid-twenties who had already started a small company self-taught  and needed the formal qualifications, a thirty-something New Zealander who was changing careers and a Greek kid his age, straight out of High School. That's Dylan right there. He's that kind of person; able to mix with everyone.

"Why does colour matter mum?"

"It doesn't. It shouldn't."

"Yes but we've made it matter! We've done this!"

"What you're saying is by pushing political correctness were in fact emphasising colour more?"

He sighed. "That's what I think. I think we took a fact and we've pushed it so far out there, it is worse now than before."

Oh God, my head was full of those 'life lessons' as he called them; times we'd verbally tussled or calmly discussed or heatedly argued... often for hours, tossing thoughts and opinions back and forth. I did wish for a moment that I'd raised a kid who in turn raised fewer questions...

Australia is probably the 'model' Nation when it comes to multiculturalism. We receive wave after wave. My family came here during the European 'focus' when Australia still predominantly aligned itself with Western/Southern Europe and yes, had a (rather shameful) 'White Australian Policy' in place. But the shift came. More and more we aligned ourselves with the Far-East , the East, and eventually Asia as a continent. These days, one cannot walk down the street without encountering at least several different nationalities.

I had it tough as a kid myself, getting called "WOG" which in those days was a derogatory word akin to any other today. My lunch at school was different, my culture certainly differed. There was a significantly stronger push to assimilate back then too, and I guess, having white or 'Mediterranean" skin helped.

These days, people wear their National dress and nobody gives a damn. Okay the 'terror' thing has raised a certain level of mistrust from some around certain groups of immigrants (Dylan told me about another guy he met called Mohamed who was trying to find a part time job and...) but by and large, we all live together, we trade amongst ourselves and have no racial issues. Our baker might be Chinese, our Newsagent might be Korean, our bus driver might be Croatian, and our neighbour might well be just about any nationality on Earth.

The formula goes like this: One lot of immigrants arrive: say the Europeans. They take on the least 'enjoyable' and more 'menial' jobs. By the second generation, their children are educated and their standard of living rises. We bring in another lot - say Asian people next - to take over the menial jobs again. Same deal, second generation becomes 'educated' and there's a gap to fill again. We bring in peoples from Pakistan, Sri Lanka - the latest focus has shifted towards Africa...

When first arriving, new migrants form tight communities, needing the 'connection' and perceived 'security' of these enclaves. My family went through that same model. By the second and definitely by the third generation, the offspring are 'Aussies', and they move out of the tight communities and settle among the rest of the population. So any suburb is pretty much a mix of many nationalities and cultures - at least within the major cities. Out in the 'bush' (country areas) or along the coast where we were living for a while, not so much.

So we're used to 'colour'. We don't see it as colour. Thus my son's dilemma. I understood what he was trying to say. By stating they were 'brown' he was simply trying to convey an observation. Like 'all those flowers are yellow'. Or 'all those birds are black'. But with the PC issue, he was struggling to not appear as though he was attaching a 'connotation' to the statement - even to me, his mother - the person who knew him better than anyone.

So how does one address this? We left the discussion unfinished, with me asking for time to process his thoughts. I am conflicted see. A large part of me agrees with him. The emphasis we have placed on 'colour' by ostensibly trying to eliminate discrimination has perhaps backfired on us somewhat. I write this and I am imagining millions reading and feeling revolted. Others feeling discriminated because of my statements. Yet there is no racial discrimination in me. How is this possible?

His last words to me had been: "Colour is overrated." Thus the title.

I looked up the word "overrated" on the thesaurus tab I always have open. 'Hyped-up' was one synonym. 'Over promoted' another. 'Magnified, overdone, overused', even 'fabricated' appeared on the list. No help there.

But I have also been discriminated against as I mentioned earlier. I have felt the hurt and confusion my 'being different' incited. We even 'shortened' our surname when we became Australian Citizens to make it easier for 'Australian' people to pronounce. I could go on and on about the various calculated mispronunciations and ensuing ridicule the longer version brought to being as a teenager.

So what is the 'life lesson' here? I need to address this yet I am stumped. Is colour - like Dylan said - overrated?

The same night, I came across some news about "...another University Professor over in the U.S." boycotted by students and having to abandon classes. From what I understood - and bearing in mind we don't use this word much down under - all this came about because she used the N word during her communication class.

I won't go into the details, if you want to read more, Google it.

What it raised in my mind though was the series of questions the boys have asked over time:

"Mum, why isn't there a Men's Liberation Movement?"

"Mum, why don't we have Straight rights?"

"Mum, why can I call a skinny kid skinny and a tall kid tall and a short kid short but I can't call a fat kid fat?

"Mum, why do Aboriginal people, even those 1/16th Aboriginal have to write it down on every form they fill - even the ones at school?

"Mum, why do I have to watch what I say every time so I don't appear insensitive or not PC?

"Mum, why does it matter if people are different colours?

"Mum, what is a quota and how come they have to fill it with minority groups?"

"Mum, what is a minority group?"

Uh huh. What did I say earlier about sometimes wishing I'draised kids who in turn raised fewer questions?

As a parent, you try and dodge, falling back on the prescribed methods; that's your first port of call. When that fails... you do your best. It's all you can do! 'Political correctness' is often mentioned in your explanations because see, there are genuine reasons behind each raised observation: Women were - and are still - denied equal rights... People 'of colour' have suffered and continue to suffer from the narrow-mindedness and obstinacy of 'white supremacy' thinking. Gay people were ostracized and ridiculed and not afforded equal status in law... People are overweight because of any number of reasons and should not therefore be deliberately targeted by derogatory comments... Men are already liberated... (Okay, this one is contentious... they've also been subjugated and forced to assume stereotypical roles.)

When we arrive at the point where it is no longer important WHO the best candidate is but rather whether they fit a certain PC criteria... when we are forced to fill 'quotas' based on this criteria... then are we not doing these people a disservice by default? Is this also not a form of discrimination?

We've watched many movies and TV shows together, the boys and me. We always note the 'token' black person, the 'token' gay guy, the 'token' Asian Nerd, the 'token' powerful female, the 'token' fumbling male. Every production is thereby stereotypical in our minds as a result. Their very presence however raises doubts... It also highlights their 'difference', reinforcing their 'minority' distinction in our minds...

Do we look at these 'token' people as deserving of whatever 'status' has been granted, or do we assume their 'role' a by-product of the increasing pressure to NOT appear to be discriminating? Do we now place our largely 'manufactured' fear of 'labelling' and of 'image' ahead of true merit? I often find myself wondering how they feel, knowing their 'minority distinction' may have been the predominant reason for their 'presence'. Can one ever feel justifiably worthy, placed within this 'token' role, and hired due to 'quota-fill' requirements? 

I told Dylan I was writing about this in an effort togain clarity. He said, "Good luck with that, everybody's going to hate on you."