MY

Der Mensch will Perfektionist sein. Um dies zu werden muss er selber Perfektion anstreben. Dieses Ziel hatten bereits die Nazis und auch heute, natürlich in humanen Absichten, wird auf Basis der Gentechnik nach Vollkommenheit geforscht.
Doch stellt sich die Frage, ob wir überhaupt diesen Idealzustand anstreben müssen, denn letztendlich wird unsere Identität dadurch bestimmt “Wer” wir sind und nicht “Was” wir sind. Deshalb habe ich im Verlauf meines Englisch Kurses eine Geschichte über diese Thematik verfasst.

MY

“adj my [mai]
expresses belonging and possession”

The action took place at a trailer-park in the south of Oklahoma. Jack and his wife Janet were sitting on their couch, watching TV as usual. But today something was different. Normally Janet’s eyes concentrated on the TV screen to spot every new scandal and to get every information about the stars in Hollywood. Instead she focused the blue floor and played around nervously with her fingers.
“Hmmmm Jack?” Janet stuttered. “Jack?”
Jack, who was sitting right next to Janet, took the last sip of his beer, placed the bottle next to the couch with a large belch and slowly turned his head into Janet’s direction.
“What’s the matter honey?”, he asked. For a while Janet looked deep into Jack’s eyes, but then again she focused on the floor.
“Come on! Do it now”, Janet thought. “Well Jack, when you are at work, I just feel so lonely and…”
“I don’t want to touch this subject again honey!” Jack interrupted: “You know….the stress…my job…your nagging!”
“Pah”, Janet replied: “Don’t blame me for your impotence. If you would have quit drinking, you would be able to make babies!”
A long pause emerged between Jack and Janet silently sitting on their couch. Janet was waiting for an argument, or at least a little reaction by Jack, but he was sitting there watching TV.
“Nah, I’ m tired honey, I’ll go to bed now.” And so Jack stood up from the couch, stretched his limbs and walked into the bedroom. Janet, who was still sitting on the couch, was not satisfied with their conversation and so she hoped for a better day, as she always did. The next days Jack tried to avoid the subject as far as possible. He stood up early in the morning, worked overtime and returned home late so he didn’t have to meet Janet. Jack didn’t want to have a baby, he loved his life as a free and independent man, just spending some hours with his wife in the evening and at the weekend. And so everything went on as usual again.
But then, one day, he had to face his innermost fears: On a Monday a letter arrived in their mailbox.
It was a governmental letter for Janet and Jack and it included a pamphlet about a present crisis in the western world: “The baby crisis”. When Jack came home this evening, Janet was already waiting for him to read out the pamphlet in front of him.
“Hey sweetie”, Janet welcomed Jack, “how was work today?” Janet tried to make Jack feel as comfortable as possible. When he sat down on the couch, with a beer in his hands and a smile on his face, Janet pulled out the pamphlet and started to read:
“Dear citizen, America has to face a problem beside terrorism and violence. Our country needs fresh blood in its veins and so we have to increase the birthrate about 50% in every state to protect us against criminal foreigners and communism. If you want to take part in our birthprogramm you’ll receive a consultation-hour in a local maternity clinic for FREE!”
After Janet had read out the text of the pamphlet she was looking at Jack with bright eyes. “So?” Janet asked cautiously. “So what?” Jack replied. Janet felt disappointed again, but she didn’t want to give up: “Okay Jack, we have been playing this game for a while, but now it’s enough! Our administration needs our support! We could make a baby and do a patriotic act, but instead your only reaction is “So what?”. Janet knew to activate her husband and so she did it by appealing to Jack’s patriotism, the cheapest, but Jack’s only remaining pride. And so Jack stood up: “Okay honey let’s roll!”
One week later the couple went to the local maternity clinic to talk with the geneticist, who was awaiting them full of joy.
“Good morning Janet, good morning Jack, how are you doing? I am Dr. Pepper.”
“I am doing fine, thank you. Well, me and my husband are consulting you, because we want to take part in the governmental “birthprogramm”. We always wished to have a baby, but Jack….you know…”
“Ah I know what you are up to”, Dr Pepper interrupted. “As a geneticist, and with the help of modern medicine, we are able to realise your vision of a perfect baby. So let us start with the questionnaire.”
Dr. Pepper started to collect the information he needed to create a genetic profile of Jack and Janet. When he finished this part of interrogation they had already talked for an hour.
“And now Mr. and Mrs. Smith, let’s take a look at your vision of your baby. What genes shall your baby feature?” Dr. Pepper was now ready to take notes.
“Hmmm, our boy should be very athletic and good at football. Muscles of steel would also be a good attribute.” But soon Jack was interrupted by his wife: “How dare you, Jack? I thought we agreed to bear a girl? A beautiful girl with big golden curls and a happy smile.”
Meanwhile Dr. Pepper searched through his documents and his genes-database: “Well Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I found two gene examples, which fit perfectly to your propositions: First of all, we can offer you the genes of Earvin “Magic” Johnson, the famous basketball player. He includes everything you suggested: He was athletic, a good sportsman and had well-built muscles. And for your second vision we can offer you the genes of Marilyn Monroe, including golden hair and a beautiful body.”
Janet was impressed by the given values, but Jack felt offended by the offers of Dr. Pepper:
“Magic Johnson!?” he asked: “Look at me. Do I look like a Negro? I don’t think so! Wasn’t Magic Johnson even HIV-positive? Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want a faggot as a son. I want a son, who is willing to work hard and not a pussy who likes ballet and musicals.”
Jack slammed his fist on the table and revealed his innermost feelings and wishes. In his mind he had already scheduled the future of his child. Now Dr. Pepper knew which kind of clientèle he was talking to and so he offered them a few more options.
After one hour Jack and Janet agreed on a boy with the intelligence of Albert Einstein, the body of Arnold Schwarzenegger, the face of Brad Pitt, the smile of George Clooney, the mustache of Saddam Hussein and the humour of George Bush.
Two weeks later everything was prepared for the in-vitro fertilisation and Janet was ready to start a new chapter of her life as a responsible mother. And so, after these days of expectant joy, the everyday life began again and Janet sat all alone at home again, watching TV, smoking a cigarette and waiting for her husband. She couldn’t await the birth of her baby and imagined her new tasks.
But being alone everyday made Janet become depressive and so she started to drink and to smoke more and more until she collapsed.
Then one day, Jack, who came home early, found his wife lying on the floor completely drunk and brought her to the local hospital, where she was attended. After the medical checks, the doctor came to Jack and delivered him the bad news: “Your wife is recovering very well Mr. Smith, but your unborn child suffered damages from the alcohol intoxication and will be born mentally disabled.”
Jack felt like he got hit by a car twice. His plans, his ideas of his future…they were all history. He didn’t know how to go on: “A disabled child? This means I’ll have to pay for a crippled child till the end of my days.” Although he preferred an abortion it was too late and he had to realise, that his bad dream would come true.
For the next few weeks Jack fought with his destiny and argued with his wife, who, to his mind, was guilty of murder. After a few days of fights and arguments Jack and Janet got a divorce and soon they lost the tracks of each other.
But one month later, on the day of birth they met again at the local hospital. During the waiting time Jack felt like a prisoner, who is looking forward to his death penalty. “No, this isn’t Christmas. There won’t be gifts,” he thought. And then finally, after one hour, the baby was born and in the hands of the surgeon.
“Would you like to hold your infant, Mr. Smith?” the surgeon asked. Suddenly Jack was wrenched out of his depressions. “Ohhh, yes, hand it over”, Jack answered. “So this is your child” he thought, “the child you dreamt of.” Jack didn’t feel quite comfortable with a disabled baby in his hands. But as soon as it smiled at him, he was filled with love and he even started to smile. “Yeeaah, that’s my boy”, he said with bright eyes. Jack recognised, that his son actually looked quite normal and not, as he imagined, like human garbage.
“Do you want to give your child to the local orphanage?” the nurse asked: “Your wife already signed the application.” Jack looked at her with a lack of understanding: “Well no, he will come home with his daddy.”