On my birthday a number of years ago, standing before a television in an airport in Florida, news broke of the death of Terri Schiavo at her husband’s hands. Following the act, dissention ran rampant and debates ignited like wildfires. Questions arose, followed by assertions that either the husband or the parents reserved the right to pull the plug on their Terri’s life. Both sides bickered fiercely, until they forgot reason and memory passed into apathy. I remember Terri, now and from now on always, not as a vegetable or as a talking point, but as a human soul whose right to her own life was stolen because she couldn’t speak for herself. Consider her story on an universal level: whether war exists in foreign lands, hospitals, or our own homes and hearts, who deserves the right to choose death over life. If you are not accountable for your own lives, then who have you allowed to master your fate? There are no chains so heavy as the ones forged by our own hands, that none hold the key to but ourselves… should you give your chains away and accept a slave’s role or should you break your bonds and seek to enlighten others? I’ve made my choice.