As Before, I Am Not Allowed to Travel to New York to Accept the Maria Moors Cabot Prize

03/18/2010 05:12 am ET | Updated May 25, 2011

Lessons from biology

Bypass machines that disconnect, the cries of babies that echo. Stamps that mark papers to deny and condemn; kilobytes that carry my voice on the Internet without my needing to move. Someone who frowns at me while talking on the walkie-talkie of control. A bird called Twitter who raises me up with his feet. Offices with uniformed people who confirm, "You may not travel at this time," although I am already thousands of kilometers from here, in this virtual world that they cannot understand nor fence in.