Thursday, March 2, 2017

The Battle of Los Angeles Part 1: To Live and Die in LA


Greetings White Noise Fan(s?),
Sorry it’s been so long since my last post.  There’s a lot of life happening.  I’ve also been working on something long form, the first segment of which is below.  There will be posts all month. Enjoy! 
 -Nate

The Battle of Los Angeles  
To steal Jimmy Breslin’s line about New York City in Spike Lee’s underappreciated SUMMER OF SAM (1998) and apply it to Los Angeles, LA is a city that I love and hate both equally. All of the posts this month will be about my lifelong Battle with the City of Los Angeles as a person with albinism and aspirations. 

Part 1: To Live & Die in LA
I was born at Henry Mayo Newhall hospital in Valencia, California, 34 miles northwest of downtown Los Angeles. I was one of the first babies born in the new hospital on January 14, 1980 at 5:12am and I was the first baby any of the medical professionals involved in my birth had ever seen with albinism, as far as I remember.

As a person with albinism, my skin lacks melanin pigment. Consequently, I’m extremely susceptible to sunburn. The frequency of sunny days in Los Angeles, coupled with the low angle of the sun, make Southern California a particularly challenging natural environment for me.  My skin’s sensitivity to ultraviolet rays is matched by my eyes’ sensitivity to bright lights, so the warm California sun was a major setback in that regard too. As a person with albinism, Los Angeles is probably the fourth most dangerous place in America I could’ve been born.   

Here are the Top 6 Most Dangerous Places a Person with Albinism can be Born in the US, according to me and the research I haven’t done:
6. Alaska.  Too dark in the winter, too bright in the summer. Personally, I’d be mistaken for a polar bear and shot on site.
5. Alabama.  It’s sunny and the people seem dim. 
4. Los Angeles/ Southern California.  I know LA, Orange County and San Diego are technically different but it’s all one enormous urban and suburban sprawl so I’m grouping it all together.
3. Hawaii.  The high average daily temperature and low angle of the sun make this tropical paradise anything but heavenly to a person with albinism. Plus, the fact it’s an island probably limits the quality of eye care professionals and available resources. 
2. Texas.  This state is sunny and hot, there are more tigers per capita than anywhere else in the world and everybody’s armed. 
1. Florida.  Not only is the sun low, bright and hot, but you’re surrounded by gators, rising oceans, pythons and people from Florida. 

These statistics I did look up:  In 1980, it didn’t rain a drop in Los Angeles from May 22 to December 3. Over 60% of the days that year were more clear than cloudy. The average temperature was between 73 and 78 degrees, with a few spikes over 90 degrees, including one on June 28 and one on December 30. While to most, these statistics paint a picture of a sun-soaked paradise, for a person with albinism, they paint a picture of a dangerous, sun-scorched hellscape. Los Angeles was a blinding ray of sunshine, just waiting to burn me alive.  

For all the grief I give them and the ways I don’t hesitate to call out their shortcomings, my parents understood the extraordinary dangers Los Angeles posed for their newborn with albinism.  It must have felt urgent to them, to get me out of there.  They understood what a misfit I was for the environment.  My mom applied for a transfer at Boeing and we moved to Seattle, Washington, where we never, ever saw the sun because it rained all the time.  Then her work took her to Virginia, to the opposite coast, practically as far away from Los Angeles as one could be.  

Despite the dangers Los Angeles posed for me as a person with albinism, I’d be return many times.  

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