08/12/2024
Beyond the Label
By: Daniel Ruiz
I would need a wheelchair to get around. People would look at me differently, and how they spoke and treated me was demeaning and embarrassing. It was a defining moment for me within the three months of rehabilitation and shortly after my accident, which left me a T-5 paraplegic. As I hit the post key, it would mark forty-one years to the day when my life would change to that of a person with a disability.
I need to mention the following text:
Adapting to life as a paraplegic involves more than just dealing with physical challenges. Sometimes, the invisible issues can be more difficult to handle than using a wheelchair. Who would have thought? Initially, I didn't know what to expect, and I honestly believed I would be able to walk again very soon.
At the age of sixteen, the importance of playing football, climbing trees, having a girlfriend, and living a "normal" life decreased for me compared to the goal of walking again. I was highly unaware of what it meant to have a disability at that time, and the addition of a wheelchair to the situation made it even more surreal for me.
My only experiences with a wheelchair were the times that I would be at a friend's house. At his house, his grandfather, who was involved in World War Two, used a wheelchair. What's ironic is that I learned to pop wheelies months before my motorcycle accident that left me a paraplegic.
Dealing with a disability on a personal level every day is challenging, and society's perception of people with disabilities only makes it worse. It's hard enough for someone without a disability, and adding a disability to the equation can completely change or end someone's life. I've experienced this firsthand, having encountered both extremes. At the time, all I wanted was to be able to walk again so I could continue doing everything I loved.
However, for many individuals, a disability doesn't have to be life-ending. The struggles are real, but they are not an excuse to give up by giving in to cultural ignorance. The answers lie in educating those willing and capable of understanding that there's life after a spinal cord injury (SCI). Those who genuinely focus on moving forward can and will succeed in achieving their short and long-term goals. A life with a disability is worth living, and Occam's razor shouldn't be automatically applied to those with a disability.
Some sincere and good people promote inclusion for those with disabilities and embrace the challenge of becoming an ally of those with disabilities and their aspirations. However, on the other side of that coin, some are just determined and willing to do anything to keep those with a disability where they think they should be. And that's in a living assisted institution or their home doing nothing productive. Something I had never contemplated until much later in life as a person with a disability.
It took me many years to become an advocate after facing significant discrimination and barriers. I encountered social stigma and restricted access to opportunities everywhere I went.
This made me feel invisible and insignificant in a world that offered a plethora of adventures that could be embraced by anyone willing and able. However, how could this be possible for someone who has all the added obstacles that come with having a disability?
Ever since passing the Americans with Disabilities Act, I have felt empowered to face new challenges and equipped with the necessary tools to realize my aspirations. While I have not yet reached the peak of this journey, I am unwavering in my determination to continue climbing. I firmly believe that individuals with disabilities, armed with determination, support, courage, and a caring heart, can make meaningful contributions to their communities.
One crucial role is being a positive role model. I see this influence growing daily, and I have influenced many people in my social circles, especially those closest to me. Being actively involved in people's lives can be among the most rewarding.
"They say there are two sides to every coin, and rarely is an "edge" acknowledged. We find ourselves at the center, whether it's heads or tails, black or white, right or wrong, ignorance or being well-informed. We are the gray area between black and white, the uncertainty between right and wrong, and the learners between ignorance and being well-informed. Many people with disabilities are forced to live in this transitional and acceptance phase not by choice but because of our perseverance and determination to pursue a more equitable life."
"It's better than one might assume, and we can be seen as instruments that bring together different perspectives and opinions. Finding your mountain, climbing it to its summit, and then coming down gracefully with an outstanding feeling of success is often easier said than done. However, we all need something that makes waking up in the morning unhesitant with reason and meaning. Hence, it is essential to search for reasons to be present and not look for an excuse to be absent."
"Discover your mountain and find your purpose. Once you achieve your purpose, you will realize the significance of your existence. Few things are as satisfying as knowing your role and place in life. You don't want to find yourself in your final days wondering why you didn't do more with the life given to you."
I began by saying, "Playing football, climbing trees, having girlfriends, and pursuing the dream of a 'normal' life had taken a back seat to the dream of walking again. However, I have accomplished all of those things and more since becoming a person with a disability, and I will continue to discover new experiences. These days, the only thing taking a back seat will be my wheelchair."
ChatGPT
Embracing the Journey: Finding Strength and Purpose in Disability
When I look back on my life, I remember the moment I first used a wheelchair—the world felt different. People looked at me in ways that were demeaning, their words often laced with pity instead of understanding. This experience was a revealing chapter in my life that unfolded during my three-month rehabilitation after the accident that left me a T-5 paraplegic. Today marks forty years since that defining day, and I have come to see my life through a different lens.
Adapting to life as a paraplegic is about much more than just the physical challenges of navigating the world with a wheelchair. In fact, the invisible challenges—the stigma, the isolation, the misperceptions—can sometimes be even more challenging to overcome. Initially, I believed that walking again was just around the corner, completely unaware of what it truly meant to live with a disability. I was just sixteen when playing football, climbing trees, and having a girlfriend felt essential. The thought of a "normal" life became overshadowed by my singular focus: the hope of walking again.
Before my accident, I had limited experience with wheelchairs—mostly seeing my friend's grandfather, a resilient World War II veteran, maneuvering his with grace. Ironically, I learned to pop wheelies in a wheelchair months before my life would dramatically change in a way that was both unexpected and surreal.
Daily life with a disability can be overwhelming, compounded by society's often misguided perceptions of what it means to live with a limitation. I realized the world was structured in a way that could feel unwelcoming to those like me. Yet, I discovered that a disability does not mark the end of one’s path—it can be a new beginning. The struggles may be real, but they should fuel a desire for change rather than discourage hope. Education and awareness are pivotal; by bridging this gap, we can illuminate the truth that life does thrive after catastrophic events like spinal cord injuries (SCI). Those who courageously focus on a brighter future can achieve incredible goals, proving that a life with a disability can be fulfilling and deeply rewarding.
While some individuals elevate the narrative of inclusion and compassion, others seem intent on confining those with disabilities to a limited existence—often in assisted living facilities, stripped of the chance to pursue their hopes and dreams. It’s a perspective I had not truly understood until later in life, but it underscored the importance of fighting for our space in this world.
Years of facing discrimination and barriers pushed me towards advocacy—a calling I embraced after feeling the sting of social stigma that can render one invisible. The world was bursting with possibilities, yet I felt suffocated by the obstacles tied to my disability. But then, the Americans with Disabilities Act arrived—a beacon of empowerment that equipped me to confront challenges head-on.
Although I haven’t reached the pinnacle of my journey, my determination to scale new heights remains unwavering. I firmly believe that individuals with disabilities, when armed with determination, support, and compassion, can make invaluable contributions to their communities. One of the most profound roles we can serve is that of a positive role model. I see this influence unfolding in my life as I connect with others. The process of actively participating in their stories is among the most enriching experiences one could wish for.
"There are two sides to every coin," they say, yet I often find myself in the gray area—the space where ignorance faces awareness, where determination meets hardship. Many people with disabilities find themselves in this transitional space, not by choice, but by our collective resolve to pursue equity.
We can be seen as instruments that orchestrate harmony between different perspectives. Discovering your "mountain" and climbing it brings a satisfying sense of accomplishment. Each day, we are given the gift of purpose, and it is crucial to wake up with intention rather than surrender to the shadows of absence.
"Find your mountain and uncover your purpose," I tell myself. Achieving this purpose ignites a profound awareness of our existence, turning every moment into a celebration of life’s possibilities.
Returning to my roots—yes, my former dreams of playing football, climbing trees, and seeking connections—these pursuits are not lost. I have accomplished all of that and more since becoming a person with a disability. Rather than allowing my wheelchair to dictate my journey, I have used it as a vehicle to explore this vast world.
These days, the only thing taking a back seat will be my wheelchair as I continue embracing new experiences and celebrating the vibrant life ahead. Life is a journey of discovery; our challenges can ultimately shape us into resilient explorers of an extraordinary existence.
