Last Spring, two cute baby swans hatched on the shore of our bay. Soon they were swimming, somewhat tentatively, behind their glistening white parents.

But as the cygnets grew into adolescence, nearly the size of the adults, something was wrong. One of them was light brown.

How to explain this? No other swan on the bay is anything but white.

While I can't figure out how Brownie got his coloring, his presence in the society of swans intrigues me.

Appearance Doesn't Matter

Brownie possesses the same skill set as his paler cousins.

He dips his long graceful neck into the water to find plants and insects for dinner, just like they do.

He swims efficiently, seems to be fond of his sister, will probably mate for life, and should survive for 40 years. In all respects but one, he's a very ordinary swan.

Appearance Is Everything

I'm very fond of Brownie. I always look for him. He's my ugly duckling in reverse.

I find him "interesting", and maybe that's patronizing. But it's human nature to judge a book by its cover. We all agree that appearances are deceiving, but we rely on them instinctively.

We'd like to think ourselves indifferent to differences. Color, gender, orientation, culture, or ability shouldn't matter, we say.

But within seconds of meeting someone new, human or swan, we've pretty well decided how we will regard them.

Self-Awareness Is Essential

It's critical to notice that we're making these mental assessments. Otherwise, we're powerless to control them.

Without intending to, we will continue to reserve our highest respect and offer the best opportunities to people who look roughly the same as us.

(Unless, of course, they are tall, exceptionally good-looking, culturally similar, or superbly dressed. They'll probably get the benefit of the doubt.)

By the way, I've noticed that the local swans are not nearly as perceptive as I am. To date, they seem to have failed to notice that my good friend Brownie is the wrong color.