I was different! I was barely six years old but I knew. There was no name calling or finger pointing that brought this revelation to light, just a knowing of some kind. Perhaps it was the hesitation, the uncertainty, that I sensed in the presence of others. In subtle degrees I noticed these 'silent awakenings', like bits and pieces of a dream that you cannot quite put together. Then in one critical moment, it all makes perfect sense and you realize that you have known all along. In retrospect, I am sure it was due to the fact that my family treated me so 'normally' that I never realized before that I was different. I remember wondering if my parents knew...
Fledgling wings poised for flight
The breath of youth its zephyr'd wind
Beyond the bounds of difference
Does awareness and faith ascend
Six year olds are not supposed to wonder such things I suppose but I was different. You see, my world was a myriad of blurry edges and muted colors, the world of the visually impaired. And that I was not a novelty in my family made it easier still for me to not understand the difference. Two older brothers shared my illusionary world and quickly became my mentors, although this too was lost to my youthful exuberance. Being the parents of three visually impaired children, along with three 'sighted' children, was not always easy. Trial and error was used in raising the boys so I was rewarded by being the youngest-they KNEW what to expect by then. And they had also gleaned experience in treating us equally and expecting each of us to do our best. Blind or sighted mattered not! So it is no wonder that I did not understand that everyone did not see the world through my eyes. My parents taught me that it did not matter. My parents were right!
Fledgling wings taught to fly
With grace and fearless speed
The limits endless and unknown
Upon equality it was decreed
But the world did not know that yet. Even at the age of six I understood this after my 'moment' of realization. It wasn't the world's fault. It wasn't my schoolmates' fault or my teachers' either. It was like me trying to figure out how that voice got into the radio or how I could hear my aunt calling my cousin home from down the road. Some things we just don't know. So it didn't bother me that they thought I was different because I didn't know it was supposed to. I was still so surprised at my own discovery to pay much attention to why. That came later-much later.
Fledgling wings meant to soar
Pause in brief uncertain plight
For the grayness of discovery
Has marred its chartered flight
Years pass in their unending march and with them comes knowledge of those uncertainties of youth. I was no different in that respect. The 'awakenings' of youth were no longer silent as they insinuated themselves into my awareness. They now echoed with the sting of prejudice and discrimination. The world still did not know, or refused to see, that my being different should only matter to me. I also came to see that I was caught between two worlds and each looked upon me as different. That was a revelation I was NOT prepared for. I almost gave in to the biased thinking of the majority at that point. I did say-almost. The wisdom of an older brother, a mentor that I had dismissed in my youth, showed me the truth of difference. "Difference is but a matter of understanding. Do not allow difference to set your limitations for its eyesight is faulty." He was right, I knew, and I began to 'see' that those who saw not difference also overlooked limitations. Some of the world did know, after all. Maybe in time the 'silent awakenings' will stir this belief in everyone. Perhaps I will be here to see it. I hope so.....
Fledgling wings of yesterday
A relic of my guarded youth
Now soar above awakened skies
Silent difference has found its truth