Worthless Birthplace

Once upon a time it mattered,

the parentage, the birth order,
the grandiosity of title, nobility.
Children knew their place
by looking at their parents
when even kings couldn't read
and occupational secrets
were handed from generation
to the next like heirlooms.
But now upon this age
of far-flung families,
serial polygamy, shattered lines
we are ourselves, our minds,
our hearts, our talents, our fears
and we have the chance to become
whoever we choose to be but only if
we accept ourselves as worthy
not because of who came into the world
around us but because of those
with whom we choose to be
and what we make of ourselves.

to my great great great great
great great great great great
great great great grandparents...