My mom grew up with two strong dislikes. The first dislike was wind. I understand because she grew up in the Nevada desert where the wind could take hold of the valley and ruin an entire day. It canceled tennis matches; it made the cold twice as cold; it spit tumbleweed across highways and pathways, and dead-ended in the corner of your yard. It snapped like a wet towel against your bare legs while you walked home from school.
Mom gets a pass on her dislike for wind.
Her second dislike was cats.
It was an inherited dislike. It didn't come through DNA like regular inheritances. It came through prejudice.
Fortunately, there isn't much harm in disliking cats. She was far too gentle to ever mistreat a cat, she just chose not to like them, pet them, or raise them. It was comparable to not liking petunias--she never planted petunias; but she liked roses, so she planted roses.
If we had a choice in what we passed on to our children through genetics, what would I cut? If I had the BRCA gene, certainly I wouldn't pass it on. If I were an Ashkenazi Jew I would edit the HEXA gene. The tendency towards arthritis, well surely I would spare my children. If I could; but as of today, I cannot.
Gene editing has made progress, but most procedures still cost millions of dollars. In the meantime, we will do our best to pass on the best of ourselves and our heritage, and leave out that which harms.
Which brings me to a story of the worst inheritance-incidences I've personally witnessed. While walking the Atlanta airport, trying to endure a long layover, I followed a man carrying his child on his shoulders. AS he passed each gate, he read off the destination. When he came to Salt Lake City, he commented as calmly as he had on the previous marques.
"Salt Lake City," he said, "home of the U-tards."
His genetic disease had been passed along.
My friend Marylou lived in Israel. Visiting the Wailing Wall one day, she overheard a teacher speaking of her hatred of the Jews.
Her genetic disease had been passed along.
Political hate is another disease passed on to children. Choose your politicians, disagree, campaign, and vote against their opponents. Fight for change, for the good guys, but keep hate off your team.
Once, I too disliked cats. For no reason, except that my mom disliked cats. I didn't even consider that they were smart, loving companions. It took middle age, and being the guest a few times in homes with cats, to overcome my genetic disorder The last encounter, I allowed myself to enjoy the cat who found his way into my guest bedroom every night. And on the last night of my stay, he curled up at the end of my bed.
I didn't mind. He was just a cat.
For which Mom, doesn't get a pass.
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