November 25th 2663
Dear Uncle Nardho,
Greetings from Black Elm!
Mom said you’re going through a difficult time with what happened to Auntie Moira and that if I write you a nice e-mail it might cheer you up. I’m bad at writing, but it’s the thought that counts, right? Anyway, if you don’t mind I would like to spend the Christmas week with you. I talked to LJ and Naoko about it already and they seemed to like the idea too—they said spending the holidays alone with Uncle Johan and Uncle Kenta in Silver Pine has gotten boring. So, pretty please, let us come this holiday season. I understand you’re busy, but we haven’t seen you or Auntie in a long time. Last time I saw you I was still in fourth grade and they were in eighth grade, remember? That was five years ago! A big family reunion is due.
If you let me visit then you might be able to help me with my project. I have an assignment due in February for history class. My teacher wanted me to find out why we no longer live on Earth and why we still hold on to the customs of our ancestors when we could easily make our own. I have done my research on the Massive Flood of 21st century but mom and dad said you’re super knowledgeable about historical stuff so I figure I would ask if you can point me to more resources. You will not turn me down, right, Uncle?
Oh, and before I forget, my teacher mentioned that I can choose a sub-specialization for my project. This is still tentative, but I’m interested in studying the Disability Rights Movement of the 23rd-26th century too. Dad said when he attended Blue Orchid University with you there were a group of disabled students, right? Are you still friends with them? Is it okay if I want to contact them for an interview or two? I want to make sure I give my assignment my very best.
In exchange for your help, I can proofread the memoir you’ve been working on. I heard you’re writing about the adventures you and Auntie used to have when you were younger. You really love her that much, don’t you? I love her too and I wouldn’t mind reading your stories.
Hoping to see you soon,
December 1st 2663
Thank you for your wonderful e-mail and I’m sorry I took a few days to get back to you. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re bad at writing. Everyone has to start somewhere and you’re on the right track. I mean, look at me—I’ve been writing for decades and I still hit speedbumps every now and then. You’re going to be alright, kid, I promise. You’ve got time on your side.
Yes, you can of course come visit Moira and I in Red Sycamore for Christmas. She’s not in good shape and her problem with long-term memory is getting worse, but she has her moments of lucidity and I believe she could benefit from having small ones around just to keep her entertained. Okay, you are not small anymore but you’ll always be a little girl in our eyes, Izzy.
As for your history project, I’d be delighted to be of assistance. I’m glad you’ve done your own research about the tragedy of centuries past—our ancestors definitely messed up when they did nothing to stop the escalating disaster of climate change. By the time major coastal cities sank to the bottom of the ocean, it was too late. The richest of the lot escaped the disaster by flying to the cluster of planets we are in now. The rest of humanity perished. Talk about inequality and privileges! That’s the dark origin of our Indigo Inferno society for you.
I’m surprised you’re eager to dive deep into disability studies! You’re right, most of Tony’s and my friends have disabilities—we have a friend who is a wheelchair user, we have a mute friend, and I’m not sure if Nardhia has mentioned this yet but Moira herself has a disability. If she and our friends were to live in the 2200s-2500s era, they would be subjected to unfair discrimination because back then the disability community was seen by our government as unproductive. Imagine that, Izzy. Imagine having your values reduced to just how well you were able to contribute to a materialistic system where you were treated simply as a means of production. There was even a law in place to forbid people with disabilities from having babies. Horrible, wasn’t it? I believe a person is a person, disabled or not, and everyone deserves to receive kindness. Everyone is able to make the world a better place in their own way if we give them the chance. Who are we to judge others based on something they were born with?
Actually, one’s ability to be an agent of change regardless of disabilities is a topic I heavily feature in the memoir I’m drafting about your dear Auntie. Never one to let her disability stop her from pursuing her passions, Moira led an environmental movement that would change how we fuel our spaceships and extract gemstones. You see, about forty years ago mining activities were largely unregulated and any mining company could start mining in indigenous lands without much repercussion. Moira, our friends, and I challenged that practice. It was undoubtedly a herculean task because we were young and inexperienced, but I’m so glad back then we listened to our consciences.
Looking forward to have fruitful discussions with you,