To the woman at Target whose daughter was curious about my Cerebral Palsy

I saw you in the Tupperware aisle and couldn’t stop smiling at your daughter sitting in the shopping cart. Her hair was pulled back into braids, and I smiled as her braids twirled from side to side as she looked around, taking in the wonder of the world around her. You were looking at lunch boxes, likely planning out your meals for the week and hoping your child did not place another Frozen-themed item into your cart. But your daughter kept sneaking glances at me, and I smiled at her, taking note of the curiosity in her eyes.

Your daughter kept looking at me, and I remained patient, waiting for her question. She began to speak, but I didn’t hear what she said.

“What?” I asked her.

“Nothing,” you said, hushing her.

As you hurriedly walked away, your daughter’s eyes drifted back my direction, but I didn’t call after you…even though I wanted to. I didn’t have the chance to tell you that this kind of situation has happened more times than I can count, and that I am not embarrassed or hurt.

Instead, I wish you would have allowed your daughter to ask me about my disability. I wish you would have thought about the importance of teaching your child that differences are okay, and that just because I have a disability doesn’t mean she should be afraid to approach me and talk to me. What most people don’t realize is that I love to talk about my Cerebral Palsy. I love to answer questions to allow children and adults to better understand what my life is like. I love to have the opportunity to explain my perspective on the world.

I am not the first person your daughter will meet who is different. Though you may have felt uncomfortable because your daughter tried to initiate a conversation with me, don’t be. You are her role model. If you feel uncomfortable around me or instinctively want to walk the other direction, so will she. And don’t be worried about saying the wrong thing or that she might. The only wrong thing is not saying anything at all.

Allow your daughter to talk with me and ask me anything under the sun. Allow her to learn that differences are unique and something to be proud of. Give her this moment, even though you may have so many other things on your mind. I’ll be glad to talk with her for as long as she wants. I’ll tell her that this was the way that I was born, but that I would not change it for anything. I’ll tell her that I do things differently, but that’s okay. I’ll tell her normal is just a setting on a washing machine.

Allow her curiosity to bloom and her questions to flow freely, because guess what? She’s learning the most important lesson of all: inclusion.


Disabilities within Social Work: The Road Less Traveled

Two weeks ago I wrote a blog post expressing my stress and confusion regarding not knowing what I population I wanted to work with following graduation from my MSW program in May. At the time, I was considering either mental health or disabilities.

After having time to weigh my options, talk with friends and professors, and receive feedback from a stranger, I’ve made my decision. The disabilities field is where I belong. Not only is it my passion; it’s my calling. As someone with a disability myself, I have the ability to offer a unique perspective as a social worker that not many others can provide. Not only do I possess the knowledge as a social worker to look at each individual from a systems perspective, I personally understand the struggles and frustrations of living with a physical disability. I know without a shadow of a doubt that there a very few social workers who can bring in that kind of experience to further empathize with and help their clients on an even deeper level.

You’d think that finally nailing down what population I want to work with would make things much easier. And it has. But there have also been some challenges. For instance, upon talking with the director of my MSW program, I was told something I already knew but didn’t necessarily want to be the case. I was told, “There aren’t social workers in the disabilities field. So, if you want to work in the disabilities field, you’ll have to create a job for yourself.” Even though I already knew that there is a very apparent lack of social workers in the disabilities field, it wasn’t any easier to hear. However, it did help me to put things in perspective and gave me an idea of what to do moving forward. My MSW program director mentioned that finding a job within the disabilities field will be all about networking (as is the case for most jobs, but I think it’ll be even more important in my case). He advised me to literally talk to everyone I know about my passion for working in disabilities and use every possible interaction to discuss my interests and goals.

Following my meeting with my program director, I knew I had to get to work. Therefore, I started by updating my LinkedIn profile to reflect my interest in the disabilities field. Secondly, I decided to make myself some business cards so that anytime I meet someone I want to network with more, I can provide them with my business card. And boy and boy, they sure make me feel professional!🙂

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For me, another important thing I wanted to be sure and market is my experience with public speaking on the topic of disabilities. Not only am I currently writing my memoir of living with Cerebral Palsy, I also love talking about my disability, especially in schools. When I lived in Asheville and was getting my bachelor’s degree in Psychology, I frequently spoke to groups of elementary and middle school students on the topic of disabilities and bullying. My experiences speaking to those children were some of the most meaningful moments in my life, and I definitely want to once again get involved as a public speaker within the school system to talk about disabilities. As of right now, I don’t have connections within the Charlotte Mecklenburg school system. However, my MSW program director notified me that he plans to reach out to someone he knows within CMS who would likely be very interested in having me come speak at some schools in Charlotte. So, I’m crossing my fingers.


My first speaking engagement in Asheville, NC at Haw Creek Elementary School. November 2013.

Though it is somewhat frustrating to know that I’ll need to create my own job (in a sense), I am no stranger to going after what I want, even if that may seem impossible. Due to having a disability, I have faced many barriers throughout my life. However, that has never stopped me from chasing my dreams. So, the idea that there are not social workers in the field of disabilities won’t be a deterrant for me. On the contrary, actually. Because there is a lack of social workers in the disabilities field is EXACTLY the reason I need to go into the field. At this point in my life, I’ve become a pro at adapting to seemingly impossible situations, and I’m more than willing to do whatever needs to be done to provide individuals with disabilities and parents of children with disabilities the advocate they deserve!

Jobs, Money, My Future…Oh My!

To say it has been a long time since I’ve blogged is an understatement. Between being in my final semester of graduate school (which starts back on Monday), stressing about jobs, money, and my future, and fitting in time with my boyfriend and my cat, there hasn’t been time for much else. However, as usual, this blog/writing has been in the back of my mind. So, here I am.

When I first began my MSW (Master’s in Social Work) program in August of 2014, I thought I knew what I was in for. I thought I knew the population I wanted to work with. I thought I had the hard parts figured out already. However, I’m beginning to realize that starting my MSW program was just the start. As it turns out, the hard decisions have yet to be made. People ask what population do you want to work with and what kind of work do you gravitate towards within social work…and my expression is completely blank. Because you know what? I don’t know. I don’t know, and that’s scaring me.

As part of my MSW program, each year students are required to complete an internship/field placement for each of the two years of the program. During my first year, I began by interning with an organization that works with individuals with disabilities. However, after a big personality clash between my supervisor and I, I made a quick switch after a few weeks. I then interned for the rest of the year at an adult day health center for individuals with dementia. While I enjoyed that, the pace was somewhat slow for my taste and I didn’t really like working with the elderly population, so I knew that during my second year, I wanted to do something completely different. Therefore, this year, my field placement has been in the case management department of a local hospital. While I enjoyed it at first and I’m able to do the work, I’ve recently realized that it’s not where I want to work following graduation.

Here’s what I do know as of now: I’m interested in mental health (but don’t have any experience with it), I’m interested in disabilities (but know that I want to directly work with clients as opposed to doing a lot of behind the scenes work) and I want to do clinical work. I also know that I love working with kids, but don’t necessarily know if I’d like working with them in a mental health capacity.

And here’s where all the frustration comes in. While I realize that it is just as good to know where you don’t want to work as well as where you do, I thought I’d have a better idea at this point. I thought I’d have it figured out, and I don’t. I thought graduate school would help me figure out what the hell I want to do with my life, but it hasn’t. Other than knowing I want to be a social worker, obviously. Which is good, I guess. But it doesn’t feel like enough.

I’m hoping that I have a better idea of what direction I want to move in following graduation, but what if don’t? What if I’m just as clueless then as I am now? The hard part is that I know I’ll need to get a job following graduation in order to pay for rent, bills, and living. At the same time, I’m just as scared to take a job working with a population I don’t have experience working with. To be honest, that terrifies me….to get in a job and realize the learning curve is way more than I bargained for. Therefore, the obvious result would be to take a job in an area of social work that I already have worked in (like in gerentology or the hospital)…except for the fact that I know I don’t enjoy working with those populations/in those settings. Agh! I’m frustrated, to say the least.

Thankfully, I’ve been able to talk to multiple people about all this. And all of them have told me that it’ll all work out and that I’ll find a job. However, what many of them have also said that it may not be a job I really like right out of graduate school. And I guess that’s what’s so hard. The uncertainty. The not knowing where I’ll be working. And the likelihood that even once I find a job, I might not even like it. How crappy is that? I thought the whole point of going to graduate school was so that I could work in a field I love and enjoy going to work every day?

And when I get in this kind of funk, the ever looming question emerges: Am I cut out for this work…Do I really even want to be a social worker? At this point, I know one thing: I know I want to help people. I want to help people more than anything in the world. And hopefully, when the time comes and I’m sweating my way through all sorts of job interviews, that will be enough.




Why I’m Participating in Relay for Life

Though I have never participated in Relay for Life previously, this year I felt a particular need to do so. As a current Master’s of Social Work (MSW) student, my fellow classmates and I are studying to become social workers who are able to best support the most vulnerable and oppressed populations, and my population of choice is children with special needs and children undergoing treatment for cancer.

In August of 2013, I began a year-long internship with Arts For Life in Asheville, NC that changed my life. Arts For Life is a non-profit organization in North Carolina that teaches art projects to children in the hospital. Specifically, I taught art projects to children with special needs and children undergoing treatment for cancer. Early on, I felt particularly drawn to the children I worked with because like them, I spent extensive amounts of time in the hospital as a child because of my Cerebral Palsy. While I was a patient at Greenville Shriner’s Hospital as a child, doing art projects was the highlight of my hospital stays. Therefore, to have the chance to provide the same happiness to other children was incredibly rewarding. I worked with many children and families throughout my internship who commented that I had changed their lives because of the joy I was bringing to them and their families. But truly, they were the ones who changed my life.

Please join me in raising money for anyone who is fighting or has fought cancer. No one should face such a hard battle, especially children!

Click the following link to donate and support me at Relay for Life:

To Those Who Taught Me To Dream

When I was little, I wanted nothing more than to be a ballerina. Around Christmastime, my grandmother would take me to see The Nutcracker at the Koger Center. As I sat up in the balcony in my checkered dress and patent leather shoes, I stared with admiration at the character of Clara. I imagined myself twirling around in my own leotard with a toy nutcracker in my hands, lost in the music and a dance that was all my own. When I got home from seeing The Nutcracker, I’d put on my leotard and tutu, grab a favorite stuffed animal at the time, and twirl in circles to the music only I could hear.

It was in those moments, in the safety of my childhood bedroom, that I began to dream, imagining doing things I knew I wouldn’t be able to do in reality due to my disability. I imagined dancing with a grace I had seen only in ballerinas. I put on my ballet shoes and twirled until my unstable balance got the best of me and I fell to the floor in frustration. I even remember asking my parents if I could take ballet lessons, determined to learn how to create the beauty I had seen in the character of Clara. The opportunity never arose though, simply because I didn’t have the balance to be a ballerina. Despite walking on my tiptoes, twirling around in circles on those same tiptoes was out of the question.

As I got older and I filled my head with more realistic dreams, I never stopped imagining doing the things I’d never be able to fully experience. I thought of dancing to the music of my world. I imagined running down the street and feeling the wind on my face as I chased the orange and red sunset I saw in the distance. I pictured myself climbing the huge oak tree in my backyard, wanting nothing more than to find a sturdy limb I could sit on so I could rest my back against the tree’s broad trunk and escape into my favorite book. The creative imagination I possessed placed me right into the worlds I dreamed, though I knew I was so far away from actually experiencing them.

I am forever grateful to the people throughout my life who have encouraged my imagination and dreams. Though I was constantly reminded by other kids around me of the things I was unable to do, so many of the adult figures in my life understood the importance of believing in my creativity. Because of those individuals, I have learned what it means to still hope and strive for the things that still seem a bit out of reach. Through my ability to dream, I developed a determination that has propelled me through my life, despite stumbling again and again. While I may not have had the chance to be a ballerina who twirls endlessly with the grace of a perfect melody, I have sung my heart out at a voice recital, capturing an entire room with the simple sound of my voice. I have participated in theatre productions, achieving my moment in the spotlight by being Glinda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz. I have written of specific moments of pain during the months following intense operations, creating the same tears in the eyes of my readers that I possessed during my moments of defeat. Though I may not have had the chance to live the experiences I longed for, I have continued to move to the song of my own life, continuously grateful to those who taught me to dream and create my own destiny.

The beauty of my worst fear.

I’m afraid of the day when I’ll no longer be able to walk.

I spent my entire childhood learning to walk so I could be as independent as possible, despite my Cerebral Palsy. Before my intense operations, I learned to walk in my own way, my knees knocking together as I put one foot in front of the other. During the years I spent on a t-ball team, I loved the feeling of running to first base. Even though I typically got out before making it to first base, I ran with all my heart just like everyone else on my team. I ran in my own way, but it never stopped me from trying.

After my first operation at the age of 10, I had to completely relearn to walk after having my femurs straightened out and kept in place with rods. One year later, when I got the hardware removed that was placed during my first operation, I had to relearn to walk yet again. See, not walking was never even an option for me. I wanted to be like the other kids my age, and to do that, I had to be able to walk. I had to be as normal as I possibly could. Even when I was faced with physical pain that made me want to curl into myself and give up all together, I kept going. Every day, I literally walked towards my own independence, one step at a time.

Because I spent so much of my life struggling, and ultimately succeeding, to walk, the thought of reaching the day when I’ll no longer be able to walk is completely terrifying. In so many ways, when I reach that day, it will feel like a kind of giving up. Though I plan to walk for as many more years as I can, I am scared of the day when the pain will just be too much, when walking will be putting too much strain on my body. It’s especially frightening because I know how much physical pain I’m in on a daily basis currently. The realization that I am in so much physical pain and I’m only 22 is terrifying. Trying to imagine my level of pain when I reach age 30 is nearly impossible.

That is one great thing about fear though. It has the ability to help us find the determination and strength we didn’t know we had. Yes, my worst fear is seeing the day when I will no longer be able to walk. However, I’m not there yet. I am a long way off from that day. Today, I am able to walk and do the things I love, despite being in pain. Today, I am able to push through the pain, because the result…the view at the top of the mountain…is worth it. The happiness, joy, and pure bliss of the destination weighs so much more than the pain of the journey.

The fear lingers in the back of my mind, the fear of knowing one day I won’t be able to get to the top of Max Patch, my absolute favorite place in the world. However, the fear also gives me the strength and determination I need to continue doing what I love. Yes, one day I may not be able to walk because of the amount of pain I am in. But I’m not there yet. I’ve still got plenty of fight within me.