Her Bad Eye

                         From the moment she was born, my little sister had something my family likes to address as her bad eye. A light murky blue cloud replaces the pupil and iris in her constantly squinted left eye. It is very difficult not to notice. Whenever new friends meet Lilly, they ask “What is wrong with her eye?”  Lilly was born with glaucoma.

It is an eye disease I can tell you very little about. The causes of this disease escape me, but the effects Lilly cannot escape from. It has caused six surgeries, daily drop routines, frequent doctor visits, thick glasses, and the most noticeable of all her clouded left eye. Despite the numerous negative consequences, her life is hardly controlled by her disability. She never complains about the side effects. She has made room for them in her daily routine.  She has accepted her bad eye as just another physical feature. She doesn’t let it interfere with her passions and desires. I am so thankful that her disability has only affected a small portion of activities she can do. For the most part she is able to do everything any typical ten your old does. Have sleepovers. Go to camp. Sing in choir. Play outside. Ride bikes. Swim. Read. She has individualized interests. She has a personality. To me she is a wonderful human being. She is not her disability. When I look at Lilly, I rarely even notice her bad eye. I never look at her and think, “There is my disabled sister!” When I look at Lilly, I see my amazing ten year old. To me her “bad eye” isn’t bad. I and many of our close friends and family often forget her bad eye even exists. However, I am afraid that she might grow to resent her “bad eye” as if it tainted her value in some way. Nancy Mairs writes in her essay “Disability” that “socialized human beings love to conform” (Mairs 6).I am afraid as Lilly ages her desire to conform will grow stronger. As young kids start to mature they become more concerned with how they are perceived by other. From personal experience, I know my middle school self’s care about what others thought of me was exponentially higher than my elementary school self’s care.  It scares me to think that Lilly will want to be and to be seen as normal. She will never meet society’s requirements of a normal human being. Her beauty is beyond the narrow definition. My fear is that when Lilly looks in the mirror she sees or will see “something queer…, something ugly or foolish or shameful”(6) I hope she sees the same girl everyone around her sees. A young, beautiful, confident, independent, kind, and loving human being. A human being whose bad eye isn’t bad at all.