Tragically Fine

The Dewey Decimals of Disability

Posted by Kyle Jacobson , Wednesday, October 27, 2010 7:47 PM

         The child was born without sight. He entered into the world without a single image of mother or father and no hope for recovery. His parents were originally frightened for the difficulties that lay ahead, until they saw a billboard with the words, "Yes you can," written in a font that by itself could motivate a river to become a slightly larger river. They took this billboard as a sign, to help their son become anything he wanted to become. Tears filled their eyes as "yes you can" filled their minds. For the first time in this young boy's life, he heard the words "yes you can."
         "So, what do you want to do with your life? You could do anything!" His parents were falling off their seats in anticipation. The blind child couldn't see why they kept falling down, but continued to think nonetheless.
         "I want to be-"
         *Thud* "Sorry." The mom said as she pulled herself back onto the couch. The anticipation was at its peak. Her various organs got black eyes for how hard her heart was beating.
          "I want to be a cartographer." Said the blind boy.
         "..." The parents shared glances of sadness and several other glances that usually don't get invited to those types of parties.
         "I can feel those looks," said the blind boy, "I am going to be a cartographer, because 'Yes I can'.
          The mother was sad because she was anticipating a more "exclusive" career path.
          The father was sad because he thought "cartographer" was another word for "homosexual."

        *Twenty Years Later*

        I was walking into the university looking for the philosophy section in order to write down names and quote things they never said, to people that never read. I walked up to the fifth floor and located the map. I looked for philosophy....Ah ha! Philosophy, section B-BJ Alpha 3.443 x Annual rainfall sideways Blue. Okay...so...maybe I can just find it on the map. I stared at it for long enough to know that I did not speak korean. I looked around and saw a group of students with t-shirts that said "Korea is for Leavers" on it. I decided they would be able to assist.

        "Could you come help me read this map, it's completely in korean."
        The small group stared at the map in horror. One of them grabbed a cup of water and poured it over his head, lit his shirt on fire, and ran in circles until he passed out. Two of them jumped out the fifth floor window. The fourth sat reading his textbook casually. He looked up for just enough time to say "I'm from Cambodia."
    
       A small library assistant walked past.

       "Hey! Can you help me? I'm looking for the philosophy section and this map is completely illegible."

        She let out the loudest scream she could get away with in a library, and then vanished into a very quiet puff of smoke. I sat and stared at the smoke for a while and then back at the map. My only option was to try and decipher it. Could it be the picture of the half-horse, half-banana peel, or maybe somewhere near it? It most definitely isn't the cereal box top or the section marked with four dots and one square, unless that's what it wants me to think. After four hours, I began to lose hope. Then, not knowing what to do, I sat down on the floor, in a matter of seconds the world went dark. After the odd phenomenon I woke up in the philosophy section wearing a large sticker on my chest with an arrow pointing down that said, "You are here."

                                Opportunistically,
                                                               Kyle