Mutants of society

Reproductive Biology lesson one-oh-one. Sperm plus egg plus nineteen years on this earth equals… me. I’m wearing the genes that my parents passed down to me- all the recessive ones. The blonde haired blue eyed daughter of two people with dark features- an easy target for an older sister who liked to convince me I was adopted. Repeatedly.
But I can only work with the genetic material I was given. Just like oak trees will produce more oak trees; and roses will give way to roses.
We do all we know how to do- pass on the information to make more of us.
It’s like a science nursery rhyme:
50% of you, 50% of me, put it together to make something pretty.
Our parents remain our parents, our genetic homeland- even if we don’t want them to be. We’re a sum of their parts.
Unless… unless a mutation occurs.
Spontaneous, unintentional, randomly induced mutation.
Leading to mutants. Changelings. Others.
In nature, being unique usually means you die early.
But sometimes- those rare, exceptional, world changing times- mutation leads to success.
A new variation that leads to an advantage over everyone else.
A certain uniqueness that means you survive longer- or make more babies.
Evolution. Natural selection. Biology 101.
Mutants. Children that are fundamentally different from their parents.
But…
Aren’t we the children of society?
What mindsets are we willingly inheriting?
Unlike our actual DNA makeup, we have a choice in the mental, genetic, apathetic mentalities that we hold so close.
So I rise. I stand. I am unzipping and discarding my genes of society.
I am a mutant of society.
Not an outsider, no. A messenger of change. Of empathy. Of peace. Of hope.
I may be a fluke, a random error in the process that is meant
to change me, mold me, leave me bent.
But more mutants will find their voices and join me soon. Stand with me soon.
I am the product of the recessive genes of my parents, completely hidden within their bodies until they were united in one being- me.
I am the product of the unheard voices of society; of the world.
And I am speaking, defiant.
Not rebellious- not yet anyway.
I defy the standards set up for me- I mutate from the norm.
I refuse to hide behind Gucci sunglasses, deafen myself with ipod headphones, restrict my hands by constantly texting.
Eyes are for looking, for crying, for giving sidelong glances, for widening with shock. Ears are for listening, for music to work its magic, for voices to be heard.
Hands are for touching, waving hello, for high fives for shaking, for holding, for saying goodbye.
I don’t want a tiffany’s necklace or a Prada bag or Jimmy Choo heels.
Don’t tell me that I should exist as a shallow, vapid, gold digger just because I’m tall blonde and curvaceous. Has it occurred to you that there might be more going on behind my eyes? Which are up here, by the way.
I would rather talk about the world than which celebrity marriage has gone to shit
But they keep jabbering at me; this useless information stream just won’t quit
Tell me instead who’s gaining power, who they’re killing now
Look me in the eye and tell me how
We can blatantly ignore
the wars, the genocide, the poverty,
all the things that are beyond fucked up in the world
All because we can’t physically hear their plea.
Who am I to preach to you about global issues?
You don’t care, you have other places to be.
But that’s just it- I care. You don’t.
Am I the only one left with empathy?



I’m already standing in front of you
Speaking loudly-

I will not conform to the stereotypes laid out for me
Or engage in this global apathy
I’ve been looking and what I see
Is an alternate reality
Where the youth are inspired and encouraged to care
They stand for what they believe in; pride laid bare
They actually think- about more than what they wear
We are the future, the answer to your prayer.
Rise now, or forever hold your peace
Stand up, mutants of society
Change is now. The future is ours.
Whatever we make it to be.