A History

I think that there will always be more about myself to discover.

Yesterday I went to the doctor 

and had to put down family medical history.

I sat

frozen.

Unaware of who came before me.

The only box I could check was African American.

And technically I am.

Born African

adopted American.

But I am not African American.

There is no box to opt out of family medical history.

There is no box to explain why I do not know mine. 

Heart problems? Cancer? Drug and alcohol abuse? High blood pressure? High cholesterol? Kidney disease? Thyroid? Mental illness? Stroke? Asthma? Diabetes? Nerve disease? Skin Disease?

Lung Disease? Muscular disease? Gastrointestinal disease?

Epilepsy? Hearing disorder? Bone or joint disorder? Allergies?

Sudden, unexpected death?

I left it all blank.

The missing section stands out in contrast

to the rest filled out with my shaky handwriting. 

I have no answer for where I come from. 

All I know is that I am African

and Black

and adopted.

But there are no boxes to check for those.

I am

unknown.

34/53