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"How
It Feels to be Disabled Me" by Josh Niklason
Although you would not be able to recognize this by my positive attitude and
active lifestyle, I am a disabled teenager. I have been described as
adventurous, brave, humorous, loyal and friendly. How do you think it would
feel to be disabled me? Ever since first grade I have had to work twice as
hard to prove to the world that I am as adroit as everyone else. I am not
handicapped, “special” or different. I am a regular eighteen year-old
college student full of talent who happens to live with a birth defect.
When the doctor informed my parents that I have Spina Bifida, they were
awestruck. This did not lessen the love they expressed towards me. On my
first day of school I was like a horrified animal in need of a comfortable
and familiar surrounding.
That didn’t give me an excuse to stay home. When others look for a hegira
from their troubles, I stare my fear in its dark, ugly face and laugh
carelessly. I must have an abundance of courage, anxiousness, determination
and finesse, on a daily basis, to prove to everyone that I am an imperative
person.
When a person stares at me in confusion, I try not to let the situation
become annoying. It is as if they are blocked by an impediment of panicked
fascination. Some questions this curious young child is probably thinking
could be: “What is the reason that you are in a wheelchair?” or “Why can’t
you walk like normal people?” These concerns can easily be clarified, but
it is impossible to be informed if you do not express your thoughts. My
head splits in pain and my body shakes with anger when I am not asked
questions, but instead stared at like an unusual foreign object.
In the rare case that an inquisitive kid does come forth to unload a parade
of important questions and concerns towards me this makes me feel ecstatic.
This causes my heart to jump with joy for hours on end, coming face-to-face
with such a wonderful person who wants to learn about my disability.
Encountering someone who doesn’t act as if I have a rare contagious disease
necessary to be shielded from makes me feel as important and powerful as a
royal family member. These people are real human beings who care and want
to expand their knowledge of others personalities. The cowardly lions that
infest this world are people afraid of someone that will look physically
different everyone else, but will act and live in a similar manner.
If I could be re-born I would not change my disability at all. I love
challenges and will never turn down a difficult test. My favorite thing to
do, something I enjoy more than anything in the world, is to
impress-the-hell-out-of-people. If someone thinks that I am physically
unable to participate in an activity, or even has the slightest disbelief of
my capabilities, I will prove them wrong in a fraction of a second. Only I
know what I can and can’t do. I am the only one to determine what things I
choose to be involved with. No one will ever make decisions for me unless I
permit them to.
I refuse to feel troubled by my amazing life. No person should feel
tormented or overly distraught by any uncontrollable event in life. I do
not belong to any “special” population nor do I live in a selective
neighborhood of humans. My emotions are never impaired by hurtful comments
placed towards me. I never feel hectored by the words of my fatuous peers.
It only astonishes me that a person can be so ignorant while in the company
of such a unique individual. Instead of continuously sobbing over a
physical insufficiency, the eventful days of my life have been spent filling
my self-esteem bucket with priceless jewels and personal treasures. Rather
than complaining of all the unfortunate imperfections in my existence, I
spend every minute of my day improving the best human qualities I possess:
love, friendship, loyalty, courage, and the ability to treat everyone with a
surplus of respect. Now you know how it feels to be disabled me.
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