Seventeen years ago Morgan Fawcett was born bawling and drunk, exposed to alcohol in the womb.

Growing up in Juneau and Portland, Ore., Fawcett suffered from an array of physical and neurological problems - deformed hips, underdeveloped muscle tone, short-term memory problems and scoliosis. He struggled academically and had a hard time paying attention.

It wasn't until Fawcett was a teenager roaming the Internet that he learned the term Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD) and came to understand that it was the cause of his physical and neurological impairments.

In the wake of his diagnosis, Fawcett took up the lilting, haunting Native American wood flute, and began to perform, using his music as a vehicle to talk about FASD. For the past two years, Fawcett and his grandmother have been traveling the country for gigs and speaking engagements for his non-profit organization, One Heart Creations.

Fawcett, now a lanky, well-spoken teenager, performed at the First Alaskans Youth and Elders Conference, held during this week's Alaska Federation of Natives annual conference. He performed wearing regalia honoring his Tlingit heritage: His black vest features an eagle, the symbol of his mother's clan moiety, and his octopus bag is covered in intricately beaded seaweed patterns.

"When you wear (regalia) it's like your ancestors are with you," he says. "I want them to be onstage with me."

Fawcett says that music relieves anxiety and helps him to calm

Advertisement
down and focus.

"When I first picked up the Native American flute it calmed me down," Fawcett says. "I thought if it helps me so much, it's bound to help someone else."

Still, FASD manifests itself: He can be too trusting, has trouble controlling impulsive behavior and doesn't understand abstract consequences for his actions. He relies heavily on his adopted grandparents Susan and Roy Hempel. His grandmother Susan is his "external brain," he says.

One of the most special moments in his fledgling career as a musician and activist happened when he performed in Hoonah, where almost everybody on the island is part of his extended family.

"I feel like as a teenager I have a window of opportunity to speak to other teenagers about drinking while pregnant," he says. "I can tell them what I'm going through, what I'm experiencing."

One thing he wants to make clear: He doesn't blame his mother for drinking while pregnant with him.

"With (FASD) there are no perpetrators. There are only victims," he says. "She's not at fault. We're both victims."

The future holds more recording, more performing and more speaking, he says - as much as his fragile body can handle. Fawcett says that he just wants people to understand that drinking - even as little as a glass of wine - during pregnancy can have lasting, unalterable consequences. He lives with them every day.

To contact the Newsroom, call 907-274-1111.

Comment Ground Rules