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By: Mardra Sikora
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Truth changes like clay in the hands of its master.
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“In childhood, I witnessed my grandfather’s truth about
skin color, faith and fear. I waded through my mother’s denial and each truth it bore. Pluto was a planet and the brontosaurus my favorite dinosaur.” The truth is malleable.
The truth is my son has 47 chromosomes and I live with 46. Chances are you do, too. The truth is, you and I don’t know what it’s like to have 47 chromosomes. What does that feel like?
skin color, faith and fear. I waded through my mother’s denial and each truth it bore. Pluto was a planet and the brontosaurus my favorite dinosaur.” The truth is malleable.
The truth is my son has 47 chromosomes and I live with 46. Chances are you do, too. The truth is, you and I don’t know what it’s like to have 47 chromosomes. What does that feel like?
The truth is people born with 47 chromosomes have been locked away, left alone, and then died in voids of confusion and loneliness throughout history and throughout the world. The truth is 47 chromosomes does not preclude a human from learning, from feeling, from reaching for more. Other humans, however…
The truth is science can see this trisomy before a mother can even feel her child developing. The truth is science cannot see possibility. Science cannot tell the future. The truth is neither can you or I.
The truth is I need help in order to facilitate my son’s reach toward his potential. And worth is a variable truth. The truth is he has dreams for his future, do you have dreams for yours?
The truth is his existence, his genetic structure, is considered by some a mutation of humanity. He is hated by trolls for merely living. The truth is he is no less human, no less worthy of love and respect and a chance, than any other.
The truth is the future sometimes scares me. The truth is I also have hope. I know what it’s like to feel a love so overwhelming its presence frightened me and now I can’t imagine life without this love. And that is where my truth begins and ends.
The truth is science can see this trisomy before a mother can even feel her child developing. The truth is science cannot see possibility. Science cannot tell the future. The truth is neither can you or I.
The truth is I need help in order to facilitate my son’s reach toward his potential. And worth is a variable truth. The truth is he has dreams for his future, do you have dreams for yours?
The truth is his existence, his genetic structure, is considered by some a mutation of humanity. He is hated by trolls for merely living. The truth is he is no less human, no less worthy of love and respect and a chance, than any other.
The truth is the future sometimes scares me. The truth is I also have hope. I know what it’s like to feel a love so overwhelming its presence frightened me and now I can’t imagine life without this love. And that is where my truth begins and ends.
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