Alan C. Parsons has big eyes and large hands. His eyes are an undefinable color, green mixed with deep blue — eyes which in a way reflect his whole life. He moves his hands as if they were wings, instruments with which he is able to do so many things, and which show everyone his true inner stature.
Alan is an aborigine and a dwarf. A bone malformation confined him to a hospital bed for 14 years, in complete solitude. Every time he stood up, he was in danger of breaking his bones, and it was only when his growth had stopped that he was able to master his most valuable means of transport: his crutches.
He was working as a painter when one day, already 31 years old, he discovered he was an aborigine. After meticulous research, he followed the paper trail to reunite with his mother — an attempt, like many others, to heal the gaping wound left in the lives of the “stolen children,” taken from their birth families to be “assimilated” into civil society. Alienated because of their mixed blood, in most cases the result of a relationship between a white man and an Aboriginal woman, often rape, these children were brought up in special institutions or entrusted to white Australian families. In this way, their descendants were mulattos who mixed more and more with whites, so that all the Aboriginal body traits were lost by the fourth generation, effectively erasing the identity of a people that was denied the right to vote in Australia until 1967.