My son, Seamus, submitted an essay to the Cancer Support Community Valley/Ventura/Santa Barbara inaugural essay contest. He won 1st prize. Here is his letter to cancer:
Dear Cancer, It’s Me, by Seamus Morrison
It’s me, the boy whose dreams you shattered, whose innocence you soiled, and body you stomped on. I have something to say about that.
What we're going to see - and are seeing already, two days into her campaign - is a part of America, who claim to be "patriots" and for "freedom", who are women haters. Yes, some of them are women, too. But they're mostly men and mostly white, the same ones who say they weren't racists after their clearly racial attacks on Obama.
The other day, my son Seamus asked how involved the process would be to legally change the spelling of his name. He said he was finally sick and tired of hearing people pronounce it incorrectly. It’s not the first time he’s expressed this frustration, but he’s never said he wanted to change the spelling.
"As if anyone would be stupid enough to name their kid SEE-mus. That's not even a name!"
I told him it probably wouldn’t be that involved and was about to explain, once again, why we chose that particular Irish variant of the Gaelic name - even though my ancestors were Scottish - when he interrupted: