Crayola has now unleashed upon the world a set of crayons so dripping with self-importance it practically begs to be mocked. It’s basically a cultural manifesto in wax form..a new children’s catechism into the church of diversity, complete with its hollow liturgy of skin-tone obsession.
Meet Crayola’s new “Colors of the World” diversity crayons.

Instead of letting kids lose themselves in drawing rocket ships, castles, and superheroes, Crayola now insists they must solemnly meditate on shades of “Deepest Almond” and “Medium Golden” as if they were filling out a census form. Forget creativity, this is conformity wrapped in cardboard, the waxy equivalent of a corporate HR seminar for five-year-olds.

The marketing language gushes as though Crayola has solved world peace by renaming “tan” and “brown” with bureaucratic flourish. “Colors of the World,” they boast, as if a crayon labeled “Light Rose” somehow carries the weight of global harmony.
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Behind the cartoon faces and cheerful fonts, though, the truth glares back—this is branding dressed as benevolence, a shallow attempt to slap a moral halo onto a product that hasn’t changed since your grandparents were kids. And it’s not about helping children draw their world. It’s about funneling them into neat little pigment boxes, each shade a reminder that identity comes before imagination.
This is what happens when corporations stop selling products and start selling penance. Crayola isn’t helping kids feel seen—they’re training them to sort each other by skin tone and call it progress. The bright yellow box masks the gray, joyless message inside, that every drawing is now a political statement.
There’s no room for imagination when every scribble is measured against the color wheel of identity politics. What was once a tool for self-expression has become a cheap plastic vessel for cultural reprogramming—and somehow, they expect parents to pay for the privilege.






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