Growing up I never saw people who looked like me. Now I know you are saying, “Dude you are
white. There are lots of White folks in
media.” Well, that is true. However as a kid, I had a physical attribute
that in my mind was a huge red flag. In
retrospect, it was not huge. To me it
glared at me from the mirror. It
screamed you are different, you are a freak.
What was this attribute? It was my cleft lip scar. It is a faint scar now, but with the constant
surgeries I had to keep up with my growth it was swollen a lot for a quarter to
a third of the year. So to me it was
loud and screaming. When I was young my
identity was tied to my disabilities. By
my Twenties, I did not do that as much.
After 14 years with someone whose whole life was about their
disabilities, I found myself there again.
Now that part of my life is over, I am reassessing myself and my
history.
I look back at my picture of myself as a little kid. The only time the scar is obvious was either
right after surgery or the one time I tried to shave at the age of 5 or 6. I was trying to be just like my Uncle who was
13 or 14 at the time. I think it did not
help that my mother kept bringing up my being different. She did not do it with any malice. She just did not want me to be disappointed
when I was unable to do things other kids could. Were my challenges as harsh as my friends of
color? Socially, no they were not. My physical challenges though at times were
difficult.
I never had to deal with people putting me down for being a
Harelip or freak. In many ways I had
myself for that. As a kid I only heard
one Harelip joke. There was on incident
where a kid finally went after me for being a Harelip. Later, I discovered his baby brother was like
me with a cleft lip and palate. Somehow,
since I was the only other person he knew that was like that he blamed me. We
were little kids, these things happen.
Later as an adult, I have encountered more insensitivity about that
subject. Mostly the problem is about
those God Awful Harelip jokes. I grew up
in a predominantly Mexican-American neighborhood and that kind of stuff did not
happen. Here in rural Oregon , I encountered it a lot in my early
twenties. Funny thing very few of the
idiots telling the jokes knew that I was a Harelip. It is less obvious to people, because I wear
a full beard and do not sound like the stereotypical Harelip. Harelip is a common derogatory term for
someone with a Cleft Lip and/or Palate.
Most people who have this condition find it highly offensive. The jokes made present someone with limited
intelligence. The condition almost never
affects cognitive abilities. It also
uses the stereotypical speech impediment, which most modern folks with either
do not have.
This re-examining came after several articles about people
dealing with being minorities in America and what it means. With me, it has been about perception. I saw myself as a minority. I doubt however many around me saw the same
thing. They saw an educated, Blue Collar
Caucasian guy. Honestly, I did not have
it that bad. Due to my father being a
career military man, all my surgeries, speech therapy and dental work were
covered. Financially, we had rough
patches when dad was on deployment.
Overall, we were fortunate. Now
the only two celebrities I knew growing up who had clefts were Stacy Keach and
Cheech Marin. In high School I saw them
as a coke fiend and a pot head. Now that
is not a nice thing to say, but that was my perception. In the 1980’s Mr. Keach had legal troubles surrounding
cocaine. Mr. Marin’s most famous
character is a pothead. Since then I
discovered that Tom Brokaw, Rev. Jessie Jackson, Jason Robards and Doc Holliday
had a cleft of some kind.
What I am saying is that sometimes perception is
everything. What I saw as a major thing,
was not so major in the big scheme of things.
Many folks overcame their challenges similar or worse than mine. I did not deal with real discrimination based
on my challenges. I dealt with
insensitive idiots. Compared to what some
people deal with it is an irritation. I
need to step out of my skin from time to time to gain perspective. Lately I have been doing a lot of that. That Is My Not So Humble Opinion.
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