Seeing Red (Shirts), Part 2: In A (Color) Blind

Back (okay, waaaay back) when I was in high school, the running joke was to look at college promotional materials and see how many pages it took before you'd seen the official Diversity Photo — you know, the one with more than just white kids in it. I doubt things have changed much. The irony of "the importance of diversity," as I've come to learn, is that one has to exploit visible stereotypes and categorize people in order to look like you're aware of diversity. There are tons of diverse elements, but the ones that count for photography are skin color (not even as bold as "race") and age.

I bring this up because it occurred to me at Beach Ball, the circuit-party event we went to during Gay Days. Held after hours in a Disney water park, they set up a dance area on the wave-pool beach, and everyone spent the evening in beachwear, dancing or enjoying the water rides of the park. Much to our (pleasant) surprise, Dan and I were quite average in the body-type category, and so felt quite comfortable in just our swim trunks. (We had both brought over-shirts to wear all evening, just in case our visions of a water park filled with perfectly sculpted, unnaturally hairless men came true. I'm so glad the waxed-and-plucked phase among gay men appears to have been put to rest.)

As I observed the other party participants, I started to notice I was hearing Asian languages from some (I'm guessing Japanese, but could be wrong), and various European languages from others (I'm guessing German, but again, could be wrong). This led me to notice the inevitable: skin color. Lots (and lots of lots) of Caucasian, a few Asian, and a decent who could be called Hispanic/Latino — although no more than was to be expected at an event in Florida. Noticeably nearly absent: African descent. Percentage-wise, almost no one of the darker skin tone often called "black."

I have to wonder: why? What factors came into play to make this happen?