top of page

The Onion Project: Epilogue

Epilogue: The Onion Replanted


Every peeling must lead somewhere.



The onion, once opened layer by layer, does not simply disappear. What remains is not just the core we found, it’s the knowledge we’ve gathered, the empathy we’ve grown, and the connections we’ve made along the way. Peeling the onion was never about reaching an ending; it was about learning to see depth where others see only surface.


Each layer taught us something vital. Visibility reminded us to look closer. Access demanded justice. Communication showed that language lives in many forms. Belonging gave breath to community. Education and language revealed how identity is built or broken by understanding. Culture and family anchored us in shared humanity. Thriving taught us that joy itself can be resistance. And at the core, we found not perfection, but freedom, the quiet, steady truth of being whole.


But onions regrow. Once cut, they sprout again, sending out new shoots. The same is true for us. Every conversation, every act of recognition, every classroom or community that chooses inclusion plants something new. The work of peeling continues, not to expose, but to nurture. The next time we encounter another person’s layers, perhaps we’ll pause before judging the surface and remember what it takes to reach the heart.


To live with Deafhood, with neurodivergence, with difference of any kind, is to live with depth. It means knowing that pain and pride often share the same space. It means understanding that identity is not static, it grows, redefines, and roots itself in connection.


The onion is not just a metaphor; it’s a map for returning to what matters most. It reminds us that every human being is layered with story, struggle, and strength. The task is not to peel away until nothing remains, but to honor what each layer reveals: to listen, to learn, and to hold what we find with care.


And so, as we close this journey, we do not end, we plant.

Because understanding, once grown, never stops multiplying.


~ A. Bret Cummens, M.Ed.

 

Comments


Join our mailing list

bottom of page