Letter to NBC...

This is a letter that I am currently sending to any media outlet who will listen.  It's pretty self-explanatory.

To whom it may concern:

On September 22, 2010, I tuned into NBC for the highly anticipated season premiere of Law & Order: SVU. Imagine my surprise when I began to view a show that fights for the rights of the violated and had to watch as my children and I were the ones victimized.

In the episode, “Bullseye,” a character was featured with a severe mental disability who, because of his disability, had urinated in public and subsequently had been placed on the sex offender registry. When his speech became vulgar as he talked to the detectives, his mother asked for forgiveness. She explained that he didn’t know any better because he has Noonan Syndrome.

I am to assume that you have no experience or knowledge concerning Noonan Syndrome (NS). Most do not. You have no idea what it is like to speak to friends, neighbors, teachers, and even medical professionals who have never even heard of NS. They have to be told that NS is characterized by short stature, delayed puberty, specific facial features, bleeding tendencies and most importantly, heart conditions. They also have to be told that NS very rarely affects cognitive function.

I have longed to raise awareness for Noonan Syndrome, to give it national recognition. Being labeled as having a “syndrome” brings with it the unfortunate stigma of stereotypes and assumptions, fueled by the ignorance of others. On Wednesday, September 22, over eight million people tuned into NBC and heard the words, “Noonan Syndrome,” for the first time. Those eight million people watched a character whose portrayal of one with NS was so exaggerated, so grossly inaccurate, it was offensive to those of us who do have Noonan Syndrome.

I have Noonan Syndrome. Both of my children have Noonan Syndrome. We have a mutation of the PTPN11 gene, the gene mutation that accounts for over 50% of the documented cases of NS. I would like to make clear that I did not find your portrayal of NS offensive because it implied a cognitive disability. I am offended because the portrayal was incorrect and you randomly chose a disorder without doing any research, not realizing the damage that could do. If you had made the character look younger than his age, be significantly smaller than his peers, or have a heart defect, at least you would have been on the right track. But, the large bulky man who attempted to fight two detectives, had none of the qualities of one with NS.

It is too late to ask for an apology or any kind of redemption. What I do ask, is that in the future you do better research when tackling the responsibility of portraying a disability or disorder in the media.

My children are much smaller than other children their age and look a little different. They have bleeding disorders associated with NS and they both have heart defects. They have been hospitalized more than once for their issues and are extremely brave. I can only hope that as they get older, they never see the Law & Order: SVU episode, “Bullseye.” I hope that they never see what NBC thinks personifies Noonan Syndrome. I hope that they will never see one of the seeds that was planted to contribute to the stereotypes, assumptions, and adversities that they will eventually have to face. Fortunately, they will never see it in my home, as I have watched Law & Order: SVU, for the last time.

Thank you,
Anna Corbin

Welcome, Fall...

I love summer.  I love wearing tank tops and flip flops.  I love to feel the sun on my face while getting the mail.  I love to feel the wind in my hair, riding on my stepdad's boat.  I love to feel the sticky skin on my boys' cheeks, as I kiss them goodnight, after a sweaty day at the pool.  Summer is my favorite season.  However, oddly enough, I am never sad to see it go.

There's just something about Autumn.

Autumn brings warm colors, bulky sweaters, blue jeans, and evenings with wide open windows.  As a child, Autumn was synonymous with the start of school - a happy time, for me, because I loved school.  This year, things have come full circle.  Jackson, my oldest, started preschool and began a new phase in the lives of all of us.  When he carried his book bag across the threshold of his classroom, he shook the "baby" dust off of his shoes.  I have heard that mothers cry when their children start school.  I did not grieve.  Jackson starting school is a wonderful thing.  It has been exciting for our entire household.  It gets us all up and moving in the morning.  It gives Henry and I some alone time.  Dinnertime is filled with joyful stories of new friends and finger painting.  It has been an amazing new chapter in our lives.

I have always found it interesting, that Autumn is a season that completely revolves around death.  The leaves change and fall to the ground.  The crunching of the dead leaves under our feet becomes the soundtrack of the Fall.  People flock to corn mazes, chasing each other in and out of dead corn stalks, loving every minute of it.  Neighbors fill their yards with artificial gravestones and hang skeletons from trees for Halloween.  November second marks the Feast of All Souls, when we pray for those who have gone before and honor the dead.  However, knowing that each Autumn from now on will signify that my boys are blooming and growing, I can look past these underlying themes. 

Because for me, Fall is not about death.  It's about rebirth.

Summer is over, but it will return.  The flowers are drying up, but they will bloom again.  My boys are getting older, but they are growing and learning and using the values and lessons that we have planted in them.  Being a part of that transformation is a beautiful experience. I have come to realize that as my boys are prospering and flourishing, I am as well.

This evening, I put on a sweater and stepped out into the cool air to hang a red, gold, and orange wreath on the door.  I stooped down to pull a few brown leaves off of what is left of my front porch plant and I smiled at the irony.  This year, beginning a season that is shrouded in death, I have never felt more alive.