Dad,

I was born in the 60s on the Isla De Encanta

They say I was the biggest baby, about 10 lbs.

I was born in poverty in the mountains, a pepino

No, I was not born disabled.

Shortly after my birth, meningitis hit me.

The island was poor by default

On the books were the Eugenics Laws

Kill the babies was the imperative

A land rich in resources, Tabaccoo, Coffee, and Sugar

But the native population in poverty and without adequate health care.

My uncle called for my family, Manolo

They beckoned come to the mainland for health care.

No, I was not born disabled

Racism ravaged the poor frail body of the infant

It was the 60s in the height of racism

I was born a US citizen by the Jones Act.

They came, they marveled, via plane, American Airlines

In awe, they saw snow for the first time.

My name is typical, children were named by the hurricane of the day.

The guilt of the birth tormented my mom

She became a hypochondriac  

She sought help for her son everywhere

I became the guineapig for the Indian doctors

I was their featured case study

I learned to walk at about the age of five

I somehow still remember the spika cast as a baby

My medical records were volumes three inches think

They experimented and cut at the age of five

Had they not experimented, perhaps I would be like Forest Gump

Just a slight orthopedic impairment

I was loved in the Clinic of Mary Immaculate Hospital and Coney Island Hospital

But it was to my despair and future suffering

This was my birth.

No, I was not born disabled.  Yes racism is the cause of my disability

No, I was not born disabled.

This is chapter one.