Perceptions

What's the first thing you notice when glancing at this picture of my daughter, Olivia? Honestly... Is it the beautiful juxtaposition of such a new life in the midst of such an ancient setting? Is it Olivia's toothy grin? The little wrinkles above her nose when she really smiles? The way her wispy hair curls at her temples? ...Or is it the big red lump on her forehead?

Olivia's hemangioma has taught me a lot about social perceptions. Not that it's avoidable, or even necessarily bad -- but it's obvious that a person's initial impression of another human being is undeniably influenced first and foremost by "abnormality" over "normality" and commonality. Over the months in which our daughter's hemangioma has grown and persisted, Marci and I have fielded countless hundreds (if not thousands) of questions from strangers about the growth on her forehead...

"What happened there?" (Nothing, it's just a medical anomoly occuring in as much as ten percent of the population). "Can they treat it?" (Yes, but it's a long process). "Does it hurt?" (No). "Is it going to explode?" (No). "Woah, dude -- what's up with that?" (I've never been exactly sure how I'm supposed to answer that one)... Of course, little children are the most direct with their questions and observations -- still, you'd be surprised at the knee-jerk reaction from many adults. But then again, what should we expect? It's noticeable. It's unusual. It's unfamiliar. It's different.

Webster's New World Dictionary defines a hemangioma as "a benign tumor, lesion, or birthmark consisting of dense clusters of blood vessels." But is it really benign? Perhaps medically, it's a less aggressive and less dangerous form of tumor... But socially, I have a hard time seeing it as truly "benign." From a cultural and societal perspective, Olivia's hemangioma is absolutely malignant, malicious, and malevolent as it blocks the public perception of my daughter. Strangers miss her smile, her spunky curiosity, her intelligent eyes, and her smooth perfect skin because it's hard to see past the big red lump on her forehead. She's seen first as a medical anomoly, and then -- only second -- as a beautiful baby girl...

Sadly, I cannot blame others for this first impression -- as I'm woefully aware that I'm guilty of the same on other levels. How quickly do I make a snap judgment on a person because he or she is Black? Asian? Marokaans? Surinaams? Overweight? Cross-eyed? Parapalegic? Gray-haired? Homeless? Beautiful? The eyes of all mankind are infected with a socially-transmitted disease that blocks our perception of a person's true... well, personhood. And this seems to be a pitiful fact of life.

Yet I grieve this fact. And the beauty of my daughter propels me to continually scrape off the scaly cataracts from my eyes -- also clawing at the eyes of those around me, as I go -- to seek and rejoice in the subtle, more meaningful beauty that fills my universe.