What would I be called if I lost:
My hearing?
All my money?
My eyesight?
An arm or a leg?
Would I be called:
Deaf?
Poor?
Blind?
Disabled?
What if I had:
Partial hearing?
A monthly Social Security check?
Sight in one eye?
Only lost a finger…or two?
What would I be called then?
If I believe I am:
Kind?
Inclusive?
Fair?
A problem solver?
Do I identify as such?
If I believe we are better together than splintered apart.
And, if I still believe in our goodness.
Am I naïve? Or a passionate dreamer?
And what would I be called if I had wrinkles, used a walker, had lost some of my hearing and eyesight? Would I be called old? Set in my ways? Do you think when my body is no longer lithe, it means my mind isn’t nimble?
What if I changed my birth name and everything else from Richard to Gwen? Would I still be called a man? Does a birthname define me or you, decide my destiny or yours? Do we have the freedom to rename ourselves to create the lives we imagine?
Who decides?