I placed the check on the table.
“If you want our help,” I said, “you’re going to earn it.”
My father scoffed. “Earn it? We’re your parents.”
“And you spent years mocking the man I love because he’s different,” I replied. “So here’s what you’ll do.”
My mother frowned. “What?”
“You’ll spend one week at Jordan’s firm.”
“Doing what exactly?” my father asked.
“Observing. Listening. Being there every day.”
He frowned. “We don’t need a job.”
“It’s not a job. You won’t be paid. You’ll just learn what it’s like to be the only ‘different’ people in the room.”
Jordan finally spoke.
“My firm prioritizes inclusivity. Many of my employees are people with dwarfism or disabilities. They built this place with me.”
My father scoffed immediately.
“This is ridiculous.”
“No,” I said. “What’s ridiculous is thinking your comfort matters more than what you put someone else through.”
