disability – Page 14 – PowerchairDiaries

The Hidden Nature of Icebergs

By Mark E. Smith

The average iceberg is 90% under water – that is, only 10% of it is visible above the surface. When we know this fact, it becomes obvious why icebergs are so dangerous to ships: What’s unseen below the surface causes catastrophes like that of the Titanic.

Most people are a lot like icebergs, where we only see a very small glimpse of who they really are, where we never know what’s truly going on in their lives beneath the surface. Maybe they’re strangers among us in line at the grocery store, colleagues who we pass in the hall at work, or even friends and family members. Sure, we see their outer appearances, smiling and cordial, but we truly don’t know much past that superficial persona.

Interestingly, some of the most harrowing stories that I’ve ever encountered involved among the most poised people, where at a glance, their smiles and demeanor would never hint at the challenges that they faced. People have said to me, Wouldn’t it be great to have his or her life? And, I’ve thought, If you only knew the struggles that he or she faces beneath the surface….

I met one young lady in her early 20s who appeared to not have a care in the world – stunningly attractive and on the fast-track in her career – and everyone was envious of her at a glance. Yet, as she was gracious enough to share with me, her home life as a child was an abuse-filled nightmare, and now in her 20s, she’s raising her two little sisters because her step-father shot her mother, then shot himself. And, she lives with that reality 90% below the surface every day, moving forward the best that she can, with poise and a smile. How that 90% hasn’t pulled her under in life defies logic, and as I spoke with her, the best advice that I could offer was that I hoped that she’d slowly bring her 90% to the surface, where the appropriate people close to her could know of her struggles and thereby help, where she realizes that she’s not alone in facing life’s challenges.

In ways, we’re fortunate when among our foremost challenges is a physical disability, where it’s so in the open that we can’t hide it – an iceberg well above the surface for all to see. Of course, many with physical disabilities would gladly hide their disabilities if they could, but what’s not realized is that, again, it’s usually burdening when we hide much of ourselves from others. Truly, we’re fortunate that physical disability requires us to live bold lives, where as long as we’re interacting with others, they at least know part of our struggles in life – and there’s a refreshing candor and honesty to that, one to which many can relate. When others see our obvious struggles, it can often let them know that they’re not alone in facing life’s challenges, whatever they may be.

I’ve also witnessed how disability can put us more in tune with others, where we can often sense others’ struggles, where while we may only literally see 10% of the iceberg like everyone else, we still intuitively recognize something much deeper beneath the surface that needs embracing – a kinship of sorts.

I was in a tiny restaurant in rural Virginia, having dinner late one night with several volunteers who were working the disability awareness program with me at the National Boy Scout Jamboree. We had a lot to talk about, so it was a long dinner. Throughout the evening, the waitress who served us was polite and courteous, but I learned nothing about her except for her name, Tiffany. Yet, there was something about Tiffany that made an impression on me, something that I couldn’t define.

By the time we were ready to leave the restaurant, my group was the only one left, and my colleagues finally made their way out the door, leaving me behind fiddling with my wallet and phone, finishing my soda. As I spun my wheelchair around to head out of the door to catch up with my group, Tiffany came up to thank me for being a customer, and she put out her hand to shake mine.

“Everyone hugs Mark,” I said, smiling, a line that I always use, opening myself up for a hug.

Tiffany, without hesitation, stepped forward and hugged me. And, what caught my attention was that she didn’t just hug me and step back; rather, she hugged me for several moments, and when she finally stepped back, she was sobbing to the point that she grabbed a napkin off of the table, and wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said with an awkward laugh. “…Typical woman.”

“Don’t be,” I said, putting my hand on her forearm. “If I told you everything is going to be OK, would you believe me?”

“I know,” she said, wiping her tears. “You know, it’s just hard sometimes.”

“And, we get through it,” I said. “Been there, done that – we get through it.”

I backed my wheelchair into the door, and pushed it open, rolling in reverse. “You’re going to get through this, Tiffany, I know you will! …We all do,” I said, rolling out the door as she just smiled and waved, watching me leave.

I had no idea who Tiffany was beyond her waitress role, or what issues she was facing in her life. However, clearly there was some sort of vying in her life, and what touched me was that, for a brief moment, we both acknowledged that challenges that are intrinsic to all of our lives – the icebergs just below the surface. Was it my disability, or my offering a hug that suddenly brought her iceberg to the surface? Probably a little of both, along with her presumably having a really bad day, where, again, for reasons I’ll never know, she was particularly emotional. No matter, I’m thankful that I extended a hug at the right place, at the right time, and made a very authentic connection, letting a seeming total stranger know that she wasn’t alone, as it likewise reminded me that I’m not alone in my struggles.

People are so darn scared to be authentic, to show any more than 10% of themselves. Likewise, we’re scared to look beyond the 10% of others, where when we say, Hi, how are you?, to colleagues in the hall, we truly aren’t seeking a sincere answer – but, we should be. Now, I’m not saying pour your heart out to your boss or to strangers in line at Wal-Mart – there’s a right and wrong time for everything. However, at some point, on a larger scale, we need to be willing to open up ourselves more to those around us, where we’re not afraid to expose or recognize more than 10% in each other. In hip talk, take chances and be real with others – you’ll be amazed at the way it changes your interactions for the better.

During your day, you likely cross paths with a lot of people, where your only initial glimpse of them is of that superficial 10%. Make an effort to look a little deeper – in others and yourself – to where you’re bold and brave enough to truly connect with others, where you’re reminded that we’re all in this often cold sea of life together. Indeed, when we’re open enough to share the 90% of each other that really counts, our perceptions of each other most often change for the better, not unlike witnessing the stunning depth and beauty of icebergs hidden beneath the surface. All you have to do is look for them – they’re there.

I’m Going to Eat Your Heart

By Mark E. Smith

One couldn’t say that I have an anger management problem by any stretch. In fact, I’m among the easiest-going, happy-go-lucky guys around – very little ruffles my feathers. But, that doesn’t mean that I’m not fearless – arguably to an absurd point – where I won’t grab a guy by the shirt who’s being a jerk in public, welcoming a little scrap with another dude when called for.

I’m sure that my brother helped instill fearless bravado in me when we were growing up. After all, it makes no intrinsic sense for me, as a guy with cerebral palsy, using a power wheelchair, to be the one guy in a scene to grab a jerk by the collar, pull him into my spit-firing, vein-bulging face, and tell him in words that I can’t use here that if he doesn’t settle down, I’m going to rip off his limbs and eat his heart while it’s still beating. See, my brother and I are six days less than a year apart, and we were raised very much like twins, right down to always having the same clothes and toys. In a psychoanalytic way looking back, I think that we were both always trying to distinguish ourselves from each other – and that included via never-ending brotherly brawls.

For better or for worse, it never seemed to matter that I had cerebral palsy and my brother didn’t – when we fought, we really fought. In no mixing terms, we beat the heck out of each other, both playing on our strengths, as well as the other’s vulnerabilities. He knew that he could punch me and run, and as long as I couldn’t catch him, he would win, leaving me with a black eye, busted lip, or such. Yet, I knew that if I got my hands on him, he wasn’t getting away – I’d throw my good, strong right arm around his neck, and try to choke the life out of him. I know that child psychologists frown upon sibling rivalries nowadays – and I don’t tolerate such violence among the kids in my own family, where I’m always reprimanding my two nephews for antagonizing each other – but, when my brother and I were kids, duking it out seemed par for the course.

As adults, my brother and I laugh about it all now, and joke about how inherently bold it made both of us. After all, in my brother’s case, if he’s beat-up a kid with cerebral palsy, that’s probably not a guy scared of punching just about anyone. And, in my case, as a kid with cerebral palsy raised to give and take punches, an absurd fearless toward fist-to-cuffs has stuck with me, as well. In fact, my buddy, Jeff, and I inadvertently ended up in the front row of a concert not too long ago, and when the drunk idiots around us started going nuts, bumping into me, I started swinging. Jeff seemed a bit concerned at first, but once I grabbed and punched a few people – and the crowd figured out to stay away from this guy in a power wheelchair – Jeff seemed a bit reassured that I wasn’t going to get us killed. I suppose people figured that if I was crazy enough to be in a mosh pit in a wheelchair, swinging on people, they should probably just stay away from me.

Now, my brother and I are both successful in our careers, with kids of our own – living as wholesome, law-abiding, God-fearing citizens – and neither one of us are the types hanging out at country-n-western bars looking for fist fights (beyond my inadvertently ending up in a mosh pit, that is). However, my one short fuse relates to jerks in public, especially those disrespecting women – and I’ve become bolder in my reactions since raising my daughter. I have zero tolerance for guys disrespecting women in public – guys gawking, making inappropriate comments, or such – and I have no qualms about straightening out the situation in real time.

Word must have gotten around about my short fuse because I was out with a female friend, and she commented to me that a creepy guy was staring her down. However, before I could turn around and see who it was – and impulsively roll over and pick him up by his shirt – she asked me not to do anything, not wanting a scene. I did as she wished, didn’t move, and continued with our conversation. However, I wondered how she knew that I was the kind of guy who would create such an over-the-top scene, that I wouldn’t have any hesitation about grabbing a guy by the shirt and explaining to him in four-letter words how to act around ladies in public?

A few days later, I asked my friend how she knew that I was immediately ready to roll over and grab the guy by his shirt? She said that she recognized me as the protective type, and when she saw me intuitively go for my power wheelchair’s joystick, ready to spring into action, she knew to talk me down quickly.

I’ve always wondered what has gone through the minds of those few individuals over the years who I’ve confronted regarding their poor behavior? When a well-dressed guy with cerebral palsy, using a power wheelchair, rolls up to you, and says things into your ear that could never be said in a PG-rated movie – adding up to, If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to rip your heart out and eat it as an appetizer – what really goes through your mind? Or, on the few occasions when my words weren’t convincing enough, when I’ve literally picked them up by their shirts, what were they thinking as the weight came off of their feet, as I pulled them over my armrest, into my contorting face?

The real question is, how have I not been beat-up by now? (Heck, I would have beaten myself up by now!) I reckon that the answer is a combination of factors. Firstly, every guy I’ve dealt with was either really drunk, or a slender creep – both of which have been surprisingly easily manhandled. Secondly, I think there’s some shock to having a cartoon-looking guy in a power wheelchair, with cerebral palsy, grab you by your shirt and threaten to eat your heart – why take the chance of second-guessing a guy like me who’s seemingly crazy enough to confront you? Thirdly, my strength and appearance has to freak them out, where I’m strong to begin with, and when I spasm, it’s then unbridled strength (I broke the arm off of a 250 lb. chest press machine, when the weights were maxed-out, simply by spasming), so it has to be unsettling to be tossed around, seemingly uncontrollably, by a guy in a wheelchair going spastic with such force, where I’m breathing like an angry bull, trying to control the both of us. (As cerebral palsy comedian, Josh Blue, puts it, if a guy with cerebral palsy gets mad, someone’s going to get hurt by the palsy punch, and no one’s sure where it comes from or where it’s going, especially the guy with cerebral palsy!)

Nevertheless, there’s always a chance that a guy could start swinging on me – and I’d be fine with that. In my adult life with cerebral palsy, I’ve taken some hard falls, with bell-ringers to the head, so I don’t doubt that I could withstand a close-quarters punch to the head or two. I might even be flattered by the equality of it – at least until the third punch sent me snoozing into Lala Land. But, the goal, much like with my brother when I was a kid, has to be for me to never let it get to the third punch. Again, in theory, like a boxer holding his opponent close, as long as I’ve got my hands on him he’s not going anywhere. And, if he wanted to take me to the ground, a 400 lb. power wheelchair is going with us, and since I’m strapped in, I’m likely not the one it would land on.

Ultimately, though, my absurd, in-your-face antics toward jerks in public are arguably foolproof: No matter how jaded our society, if people see an able-bodied guy trying to fight a guy in a wheelchair in public, some bigger dude is going to knock his lights out for picking on a guy in a wheelchair – there’s still that stigma that you shouldn’t punch a guy in a wheelchair. So, no matter what creeps do in public to tick me off, they’re going to have a tough time winning in the end – which is why I’m always courteous enough to offer them the opportunity to leave before I tear their pulsating, blood-dripping hearts from their chests and eat them (or before they’re torn apart by an angry mob for beating the daylights out of me, a poor, defenseless guy in a wheelchair).

When Flirtation is a False Alarm

By Mark E. Smith

I was flipping through the television channels late one night, and came across an episode of the cartoon for grown-ups, Family Guy. What caught my attention was that there were two characters using wheelchairs in a night club, and the one character said to the other, “Get out there and dance with the ladies…. They love us guys in wheelchairs because we’re nonthreatening.”

There was a lot of truth to the character’s statement – but it also ties into an underlying mythology that surrounds those with disabilities in such mainstream dating scenes, that we’re flirtation magnets.

It’s interesting how often I hear those who are able-bodied note that those with disabilities attract all of the attention at bars and clubs from the opposite sex. And, it can prove strikingly true. In fact, you may have witnessed or experienced this phenomenon for yourself, where those with disabilities who possess outgoing, self-confident personalities have no problem getting others to seemingly flirt with them. And, if one with a disability is so inclined, one can often have a “hot one” dancing with him or her in no time, with some seemingly romantic advances involved. And, it, indeed, all ties back into what the character on Family Guy noted: Those with disabilities can come across so nonthreatening that strangers of the opposite sex in bars and clubs are quick to warm up to them in ways that they might not warm up to other strangers, where those with disabilities can seemingly get a lot of action, as the hip kids say.

Yet, what many observers don’t realize is that the dynamic that’s occurring is almost always an illusion, that the individual with the disability truly isn’t getting any sustainable action at all. Rather, individuals often simply act overtly friendly, sometimes flirtatious, but with very innocent motives, toward those with disabilities. Indeed, a woman in a bar might sit on a gentleman’s lap who uses a wheelchair, but she usually does so simply because she’s so comfortable and trusting of him – a striking contrast of intentions compared to if an able-bodied woman were to cozy up to an able-bodied man in such a way, where both may interpret it as a true physical advance. And, this is where the social confusion of mixed messages comes in for casual observers, as well as those with disabilities: The rules, in general, apply differently in such scenes for those with disabilities versus those without.

See, when two able-bodied individuals are flirting with each other in a bar all evening, it’s safe to assume that there’s a real mutual, romantic attraction, and they very well may end up “going home together.” Such a scenario is a sure sign of the courting rituals in our modern culture – or, more aptly, “hook-up culture” – that most people easily identify. Therefore, when most observe an individual flirting with someone with a disability, they apply this same “mainstream” standard, and assume that it’s the same courting ritual that they’ve experienced – that is, if someone appears overtly flirtatious toward one with a disability, they’re looking for more than a friendship, and romance and physical intimacy could likely occur.

Where misinterpretation comes in is that many people don’t realize that the “flirting dynamic” toward those with disabilities by those who are able-bodied is typically much different in such social settings than flirtation between those who are both able-bodied. Again, the reason why many are drawn to those with disabilities in a “pick-up scene” is because of the perceived nonthreatening nature of the individual with the disability. For example, if a woman is seeking a nonthreatening experience, she’ll often choose to give her attention to a man with a disability over able-bodied guys cruising a bar or club. This reality is based on the fact that, for better and for worse, men with disabilities in our culture simply aren’t perceived as sexually-aggressive, and many women in social scenes can find them as a sort of unintentional safety net, where women can seemingly flirt and have a great time without fearing the sexual expectations that they presume that able-bodied men have. (Of course, men with disabilities are just as sexual as most men – and not all able-bodied men are sexually aggressive, either! – but social stigmas and stereotypes prevent some from recognizing these facts.) This dynamic applies equally to women with disabilities, as well, where a man may act more chivalrous toward her out of kindness – or, dare I say, to appear sweeter to his real love interest – which can be misinterpreted by one with a disability as true flirtation.

And, it’s in the realm of nonthreatening interactions and mixed messages where disability-related mythology comes in. To the uninformed observer, an able-bodied person engaging with someone who has a disability in a club or bar – as with a woman sitting on a gentleman’s lap who uses a wheelchair –can unquestionably appear to be involved in a courting ritual. However, such appearances are usually deceiving. Based on remaining stereotypes and stigmas in our culture, it’s a monumental leap for most able-bodied individuals to go from being overtly friendly with a stranger who has a disability in a bar or club to having actual physical intimacy with him or her in one night. There are typically far too many implied unknowns for an able-bodied individual to engage in any sort of physical intimacy with one who has a disability after simply meeting him or her at a bar or club. Again, a woman, for example, who’s seeking nonthreatening company – or, possibly, simply to feel better about herself – in a bar or a club isn’t looking to go home with the guy with the disability who she’s socialized with for a few hours. Based societal views toward disability, it’s typically too big of intellectual leap for her to make in such a short amount of time – from the bar to the bedroom with one who has a disability – and, in most cases, actual physical intimacy isn’t even in her mind, where if questioned on her intentions, she’d sincerely tell you that she was simply being nice and having fun. In this way, observers – and those with disabilities, themselves – often confuse such scenarios as courting rituals, when they’re truly nothing more than one person being dramatically friendly and playful with another.

Whenever I encounter this dynamic, where a woman has seemingly flirted with me, and my friends are like, Dude, that chick was all over you!, I’m quick to honestly explain that, no, she wasn’t all over me, that she was simply was being friendly and playful – a very different experience than most of my able-bodied pals have known when women flirt with them, where the intentions are totally different. More so, as I’ve matured, I’ve become honest with myself, recognizing the profound difference between a woman simply being nice and playful – or, patronizing with her flirtation – and those who are truly interested in getting to know me as a person. And, I’ve developed very little tolerance for such antics as patronizing flirtation – I can read it for what it is, nonsense. I’d rather have a meaningful, quiet conversation with a woman as friends than have an intoxicated, overtly flirtatious woman put her hands on me for show in a bar (though, I’ve certainly done it in the past – out of bravado, insecurity, and immaturity).

Yet, I have friends with disabilities who buy into the whole illusion, using such skewed dynamics in bars and clubs to bolster their own egos – and, as I tell them, it’s pathetic and degrading to both people. If the able-bodied person tries to use one with a disability as a sort of safety net or patronized flirtation to make themselves feel better, and the person with the disability plays along to get whatever he or she can get, both people are playing each other – and someone is bound to lose in the end (usually the one with the disability who’s hoping to score, but ends up going home alone, without so much as a phone number!).

Now, I’m not saying that those with and without disabilities can’t fall in love or just “hook up” with each other – it happens all of the time. However, it’s vital to recognize that the courting rituals at the shallow end of the dating pool are different for those with and without disabilities – and we owe it to ourselves, as those with disabilities, not to misinterpret friendliness and misguided flirtation as a greater interest than it usually is. Be aware that the rules are different in such superficial social scenes for those with disabilities versus those without, know the dynamics, and don’t let anyone be fooled by them – especially yourself.

As I tell my buddies with disabilities, You have a terrific chance toward dating women who you interact with every day, where there’s a real understanding and connection. However, when it comes to “getting lucky” via random, overly-flirtatious chicks sitting on your lap in bars and clubs, not so much!

Following Fran

By Mark E. Smith

I recently participated in a San Francisco Chronicle newspaper debate over legalizing marijuana in California, and I quickly topped the debate as holder of the least popular position:

….As one with a severe disability, I’m constantly embarrassed that disability is used as a justification for pot use. The fact is, there’s no link between having a disability and using pot – and anyone who makes such a connection is simply using disability as an excuse to get high (and, arguably, avoid accountability in living with disability). No, living with disability isn’t always comfortable or ideal; however, it in no way warrants or justifies drug use. I assure you that many of us with disabilities have the self-acceptance and fortitude to live healthy, clear-minded lives, where we look at our peers with disabilities who use pot and call them what they really are: Drug addicts.

My “blunt” position was ranked by readers as the most disliked out of 40 or so arguments for or against legalizing pot – who knew there were so many angry, stoned people with disabilities reading the San Francisco Chronicle? …Based on their angry comments toward my position on the subject, you’d think that I was personally taking away their hash pipes.

However, all was not lost on me in the debate, as one pro-pot reader’s comment addressed to me particularly captured my attention:

Cannabis is used for pain relief, why should people suffer in pain unnecessarily? Do you think that suffering in pain is good for character development?

My answer is a no-nonsense one: Absolutely pain and suffering is good for character development – it’s among the foremost ways that we evolve for the positive as individuals. The fact is, adversity, pain, and suffering are intrinsic parts of human experience, and facing them in healthy ways is not only good for character development, but also strengthens the capacities of our humanity. After all, the only way that we truly develop resilience and fortitude is by facing adversities, not avoiding them. Adversity is like exercise: The more positive effort that we put into facing it, the more developed we become.

Even on seemingly superficial levels, it’s undeniable that adversity, pain, and suffering can serve us in positive ways. When we’re willing to study harder than our peers, we excel in school. When we’re willing to work harder than our colleagues, we excel in our careers. When we’re willing to push our bodies to the limit with exercise, we excel in health. And, all of these are character-building efforts, developing our tenacity and perseverance in spite of the discomfort that they require. In this way, there’s no question that one who avoids any discomfort has a less-developed character than those who expose themselves to hardships in order to live to their fullest potentials.

In a more literal way, there’s no question that embracing any physical pain of disability or illness – not masking or avoiding it – is a key to character development, an evolved skill set that will never fail us. One of my closest friend’s brother, Fran, has been going through among the most intensive cancer treatments, with massive doses of chemo therapy. However, to all of our amazement, he has barely slowed down his activity level, merely working his cancer treatment into his schedule rather than allowing it to dramatically effect his life. In fact, while most people are laid-up in bed, too ill to function at his level of treatment, Fran is out doing most of the activities that he’s always done, including helping others in any ways that he can. Sure, he told me that he feels like hell much of the time; but, he won’t let that get in his way. So, how does Fran defy conventional reaction to cancer treatment, not slowing down when others must, to where he possesses pain management skills that seem to contradict modern medicine’s understanding of it?

The answer is elementary: Some 48 years ago, Fran began building life skills by enduring a level of pain and suffering that very few humans have ever known. See, when Fran was 13, in 1961, working at a gas station, there was an explosion, setting him ablaze. Rather than stopping, dropping, and rolling – the technique that we all know today to extinguish flames – he ran in panic, further spreading the fire, burning his whole upper body, including his face, beyond recognition. A witness finally tackled him, putting out the flames; yet, Fran’s challenges had just begun.

Back in the early 1960s, the treatment methods for severe burn victims weren’t nearly as evolved as they are today. In fact, the post-burn treatment, such as soaked wound dressings, were said to be more painful than the burns, themselves – a striking contrast to such modern practices today as hydrotherapy. So, Fran not only went through the initial trauma of the explosion, but also endured the treatment of burns over his entire upper body, multiple surgeries, permanent disfigurement, and blindness in one eye. Yet, the experience ultimately made him all but unstoppable, going on to have a family and a dedicated career over the past 48 years, overcoming any adversities that he encountered, where he’s also been the go-to guy when anyone needs assistance or a helping hand – everyone just calls Fran.

As Fran proves, and as I’ve personally lived and witnessed time and time again, when we face pain and suffering head on – and when we’re even willing to pursue it when needed – we absolutely develop our character and strengthen our capacity to succeed in life, foundations of tenacity that serve no matter what comes our way. Indeed, we have the capacity to not just endure pain and suffering, but also to embrace it for our betterment.

I’ve never known anyone succeed in life from running from adversities. However, I can show you countless individuals, like Fran, who’ve succeeded by embracing the harshest circumstances with fortitude and perseverance – and true character, of course – where they’ve only become stronger and more successful. The way I see it, those pot-smokers with disabilities can keep at it in California – it’s their own lives they’re wasting. But, for me, I’m following Fran, where I’m glad to reap the life-long rewards of building character through embracing adversity, pain, and suffering. After all, the more we’re willing to endure, the more we’re willing to evolve as individuals.

People Talking as People

By Mark E. Smith

A friend recently had me send him a replacement thumb screw to optimally secure a shroud piece on his power wheelchair. It was held on by a remaining screw on one side, but, absent the second screw, it sat crooked, ajar. “I just want to shut people up about it,” he said, noting the non-stop comments from his family and friends, constantly asking, Aren’t you ever going to fix that thing?

It really is amazing how bold people are toward commenting on our wheelchairs – and, when I say bold, what I really mean is unoriginal, idiotic, and even disability-phobic. After all, when was the last time a stranger made a creative, intelligent comment about your wheelchair? Chances are, rarely, if ever. …It’s always an unoriginal, idiotic comment like the greeter at Wal-Mart saying, Now, no burning rubber in here!; or your uncle, Harry, who says, We should soup that up with a gas engine!; or the nurse who asks, You’re not going to run me over with that, are you?; as you follow her down the hall at the doctor’s office.

My personal favorite – and, when I note favorite, I mean the most unoriginal, idiotic, never-ceasing comment of them all – is during every winter, when all I hear for six months is, Do you have snow chains for your wheelchair? And, undoubtedly, each person who asks me that wise-crack question thinks that he or she is the funniest, most original comedian out there – except that he or she really isn’t, merely stating the unoriginal and idiotic. Sixteen people made that comment to me on a single snowy day – I counted! – and I simply started replying, No, but I have duct tape… and I’m going to put it over the mouth of the next person who asks me that idiotic question! But, people kept asking, no less – there apparently isn’t enough duct tape to stifle the unoriginal and idiotic.

The other one that I love – to hate! – is when people ask me why I don’t clean my power wheelchair, when they know that it’s been raining or snowing for a week. I always want to reply, If you drive your car to work in the rain or snow, it gets dirty, just like when I drive my power wheelchair to work in the rain or snow, it gets dirty. What part of this equation don’t you comprehend, Einstein?

Most recently, I’ve inadvertently brought the unoriginal, idiotic comments toward my power wheelchair to whole new level, where they’re strikingly consistent, no matter the weather or occasion. I’ve had my “everyday” power wheelchair for about four years, and it’s gone through hell and back – driven thousands of miles, through countless thunderstorms and winter snow, caked in road salt for months at a time. And, so after such abuse, I understandably needed to replace my rear caster beam. In today’s limited funding climate, where many struggle to get basic mobility, it would have been unethical and immoral of me to simply order up a new caster beam for my wheelchair through my own company’s inventory system – there are too many people in need for me to be patching up my own wheelchair with new parts when such parts should go to others in need. Instead, I waited till our Service department had a used caster beam in reasonably good shape, and I had them recycle it onto my own wheelchair in need. The beam, as it turned out, was a different color than my frame; yet, that was of no concern to me – my goal was to have optimal mobility without impacting others with disabilities, so I was merely thrilled to have a good, used caster beam, regardless of color.

However, I didn’t consider the single, unoriginal, idiotic question that my mismatched-colored wheelchair would forever invite: How come your hood doesn’t match the fenders? As if I’m stuck in a never-ending episode of Seinfeld, every unoriginal, idiotic Neanderthal asks me that exact question, thinking that he or she is freakin’ hilarious: How come your hood doesn’t match the fenders? I suppose that I could take the time to explain the socially-responsible reason why my caster beam doesn’t match the rest of my wheelchair, but it would be like trying to explain the moral dilemmas of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment to a three-year-old.

The larger issue is, however, why are people so quick to make unoriginal, unintelligent comments about our wheelchairs? After all, as those with disabilities, we don’t make unoriginal, idiotic, stereotypical comments to strangers about their appearances, nor do those who are able-bodied make such comments to each other. For example, a Wal-Mart greeter is allowed to say to a wheelchair user, Now, no burning rubber in the store!, but would be fired if he or she said to every overweight person, Now, no eating everything in the store! Both comments, at their core, are offensive; yet, culturally, one is allowed to call attention to a stranger’s wheelchair, but not allowed to make a wisecrack regarding, say, a stranger’s weight – what’s the basis for such a discrepancy of socially-acceptable behavior?

The answer resides in remaining disability phobia, where some people just don’t know how to act around those with disabilities, so they try making small talk centered around one’s wheelchair – and much of it ends up sounding really, really stupid, if not downright offensive to some.

I know a guy who works on the motor end of the power wheelchair industry, and based on my understanding of his background, prior to his entering the industry six years ago, he knew nothing of disability – and possibly still doesn’t. See, he knows me – and those around me – very well, but treats me very differently from others. When he sees everyone else, he greets them by name; however, whenever he encounters me, he simply says the same thing every time: Man, those motors are quiet!, referring only to my wheelchair. He’s said it to me hundreds of times, in every sort of setting. He could be talking to a group of people, and as I roll by, he’ll shout it at me – Man, those motors are quiet! It’s never, Hi, Mark, how are you?, just the same old, annoying comment: Man, those motors are quiet!

Why, though, does he insist on shouting that singular phrase at me year after year, rather than simply greeting me like everyone else? The first possibility is that he has a clinical fetish for wheelchair motors, and can’t control his “urges” when I roll by. Of course, a more likely possibility is that he lacks the capacity and comfort level to interact with those who have disabilities, and instinctively focuses on that which he’s comfortable with – motors. Therefore, saying, Hey, Mark, how are you?, to me, the guy with the disability, is so far outside of his comfort zone that the best that he can squeeze out is, Man, those motors are quiet!

Indeed, it’s a striving toward comfort level that ultimately motivates most of the unoriginal, idiotic comments that we receive toward our wheelchairs. People truly aren’t trying to be stupid and annoying, but actually gracious. Many without disability experience want to reach out to us as people, but aren’t sure how, so they stumble over themselves, using the obvious – our wheelchairs – as a conversational ice-breaker. And, that’s an effort on their parts that we should appreciate. Rather than avoiding those with disabilities as an unknown, others are taking the chance to start a dialogue with us – albeit, awkward, with unoriginal, idiotic comments – and it’s our role to then seize the opportunity, where we have a chance to engage with them in dialogue, where they then can see us as just people, after all.

The next time that someone makes an unoriginal, idiotic, comment about your wheelchair – Do you need a license to drive that thing? – try not to be annoyed or dismissive, but use it as an opportunity to open an immediate dialog, where the conversation quickly moves from your wheelchair to you as a complete person. You’ll likewise be amazed at how quickly you, too, will see the individual in front of you transform from an unoriginal moron to a sincere person, where everyone’s initial assumptions breakdown, and you just become people talking as people.

Unboxing It All

By Mark E. Smith

Between my pal, Drewy, and I, we hold the unofficial combined record for knowing the most messed up people with disabilities – or at least enough to keep the Dr. Phil Show booked with guests for a few years.

Now, when I note “messed-up people with disabilities,” I’m truly not being judgmental, but merely observational. We know more than one woman with a disability who’s a stripper, porn actress, or porn producer – and, let’s be blunt, that’s messed up. And, we know more than our share of men with disabilities who’ve done more drugs and lived a party life harder than Guns ‘n’ Roses did in the 1980s – which, again, is messed up.

What I must point out, though, is that it’s not that we seek out such individuals or befriend them – we most often truly just stumble upon them as part of the disabled community. For example, I was recently simply having dinner at a disability event, when a woman at another table of those using wheelchairs punched a gentleman at her table in the face, blood splattering everywhere, screaming at him for flirting with her wife, who was sitting at their table. Of course, I looked around like, Is this really happening? With my second thought being, Here we go again…. Therefore, in this observational way, there’s no shortage of messed up people with disabilities who we’ve encountered over the years.

However, where this conversation becomes of utmost consequence is in the all-important question surrounding “messed up” people with disabilities: Why are they messed up – or, as Dr. Phil puts it, dysfunctional?

There’s an undeniable undercurrent among both the mainstream and disabled community alike that people with disabilities are dysfunctional solely on the basis that – drum roll, please! – they have a disability. However, the rationalizations between the mainstream and disability community for how disability, in itself, fosters dysfunction are very different.

Interestingly, both the mainstream and the disability community see dysfunction among those with disabilities as a disability-related coping mechanism – or, a lack of coping, as it truly should be called. Yet, the rationales, again, are different. See, the mainstream gives dysfunctional people with disabilities a pass, generally thinking, Man, if I had a disability, I’d be messed up, too, implying that disability is so terrible that it’s a justification for any number of poor behaviors, as we see by how easy it is for those with disabilities to get free drinks offered to them by others at bars, to name one example.

On the other hand, the disability community looks at those with disabilities who are dysfunctional, and says, They can’t cope with disability, so that’s why they’re all messed up, implying shortcomings in individuals who seemingly lack a sort of fortitude toward living with disability.

In these ways, both the mainstream and disabled community make disability a scapegoat for dysfunctional behavior, blanketing it as the root cause of ills in one’s life.

Yet, how do any of us really know why any individual with a disability is dysfunctional? After all, many without disabilities are dysfunctional, and many with disabilities lead enormously healthy, successful lives – so who’s to assume that disability inherently causes one to be dysfunctional?

The unquestionable answer is, we simply can’t – and shouldn’t – assume that disability inherently causes one to be dysfunctional. What we know is that there are a lot of emotionally and mentally troubled people in the world, some of whom happen to have disabilities, but many who don’t. And, while some people with disabilities are troubled by disability, itself, to the point of dysfunction, many are unquestionably troubled by many other factors in their pasts and presents, where disability is the least of their innerturmoil. This is such an important realization because when we look at “messed up” people with disabilities and strictly attribute their dysfunctions to disability in itself, we’re discounting the entirety of individuals’ life experiences. Using one of my previous examples, can disability cause a young lady to question her identity, to the point of acting out in dysfunctional ways? Sure. However, there’s arguably a better chance that a dysfunctional childhood, other trauma, or mental health issues contributed to her destructive present paths, that even if she didn’t have a disability, she’d still be living a dysfunctional life of, say, pornography.

And, it’s along these lines that my friend, Drewy, asked me a brilliantly insightful question: How does a mental health professional distinguish between disability-related dysfunctions and other life-experience dysfunctions?

That’s a tough, tough question – and the answer is truly the key needed for those with disabilities who are dysfunctional to get on the road to recovery, so to speak. There has to be an inventory process that starts with the individual, where emotions are unboxed one by one, and causations are identified. Some causations may be disability-related, while others may not; but, they must all be individually identified and addressed.

I remember many years ago, when I was 21 or so, and I was emotionally unsettled when my girlfriend and I first moved in together – I felt oddly insecure about the life change. Was I feeling vulnerable because she was going to see my disability in full effect, or was I feeling vulnerable because I came from a very dysfunctional childhood, where the only adult relationships that I knew were nightmares? Or, were my feelings a bit of both experiences? And, so I went through my own “unboxing” process, figuring out that while questions toward how my disability might impact my relationship could be a valid issue for some, it truly wasn’t for me; but, my really impacting issues surrounded my fears toward how to build a healthy relationship when I’d never really seen one. My own dysfunction, then, wasn’t disability related, but childhood related – and once I recognized that, I was on my way toward doing what it took to learn how to form lasting, healthy relationships.

When we witness “messed up” people with disabilities, let’s not simply write off the dysfunction as a consequence of disability – such an assumption is discounting and flip. Rather, when we witness dysfunctional people with disabilities, let us remember that beyond disabilities, we’re all people first, where there aren’t easy answers to dysfunctional behaviors, but that there are often complex causes that need addressing – many that have nothing to do with disability at all.

The Power of Wakes

By Mark E. Smith

People are very kind in noting how they’re inspired by my spirit, sometimes asking how I stay so passionate, inspired, and fired-up about life? Sometimes they’re blunt enough to note that living with a disability surely isn’t easy, that my career in itself, dealing with rightfully frustrated consumers, can’t be a pleasant job at all times, either. And, when they know a little bit about my childhood, coming from the wrong side of the tracks, they’re even more intrigued, wondering how do I stay so eternally positive and inspired?

My answer to the question is a simple one: I’m constantly on the lookout for inspiring people, circumstances, and teachings in the world around me – and I follow their leads. I’m humbled and inspired by others around me on a daily basis, and it’s their efforts that encourage me to live my best.

Years ago, when I was routinely boating in the rough waters of the Pacific Ocean, I had one of the smallest boats in the recreational fleet during salmon season each year. And, when I headed out from the San Francisco Bay, under the Golden Gate Bridge as a lone boat, it was a brutally-rough ride, getting pounded by the very tumultuous waters where the ocean meets the bay – an area called the “Potato Patch.” However, I learned that if I tucked my small boat in the wake behind larger boats, the ride was a lot smoother – the larger boats broke the waves for me, clearing the path. By simply following boats bigger than mine, I made greater headway.

My everyday life today is just like my time spent boating on the Pacific – I’m always on the lookout for those greater than me to lead the way, true inspirations to help me grow as a man, father, friend, colleague, and businessman. And, there are no shortages of inspirations everywhere that I look. I’m forever impressed by witnessing everyone from strangers in public demonstrating pure kindness, to colleagues making honorable decisions – and countless examples in-between – all of whom inspire me to strive toward excellence.

Indeed, when we’re on the lookout for inspiration, it’s impossible not to find it in the everyday greatness of others, and that makes us remarkably optimistic about what each of us can accomplish. However, what’s interesting is that so often our culture tells us to look at the rich and famous or so-called accomplished as inspirations, but that’s rarely where our true, lasting inspiration is found. Rather, our true, lasting inspiration is usually found in those around us every day, those who are doing the extraordinary with no fanfare, those who do right simply because it’s their nature.

I’ve had the chance to get to know a gentleman who works at a Subway sandwich shop near my home. And, in talking with him, I learned that he lives with his girlfriend, and has assumed the role of father figure to her two children. Wanting to build a life for his girlfriend and her children, he takes three community college courses per week at night, bringing his books to work at the Subway shop each day to study when there are no customers. Having been an English major, myself, it’s been my privilege to meet him at the Subway shop one evening per week, and help him with his formal papers. And, I look at this gentleman and think, Man, everyone should learn from this guy’s initiative and dedication! After all, how can one meet a guy who works at Subway by day, probably making $8 per hour before taxes, to support his girlfriend and her kids, while attending college at night to better himself, and not be inspired by his efforts of doing whatever it takes to move his life forward? He’s been very gracious in noting my inspiration to his life, but I truly don’t hold a candle to his inspiration – his unyielding dedication shows me week after week how much more we can all achieve if we simply apply ourselves, building success from the ground up.

At this writing, I’m in the middle of working 14 days straight – that is, working last week, having worked the Abilities Expo all weekend, getting home late Sunday night, then getting in my office Monday morning by 7:30am, working the present week as usual. And, when I got home from work Monday evening, 8 days into it, I was as tired as I’ve ever been, just wanting to go to bed. Yet, I knew that due to being on the road, I hadn’t worked out in my gym in 4 days. Sure, dead-tired, I could have gone to bed, easily justifying not working out, reckoning that both my body and mind just needed rest. But, then I thought of my childhood friend, Stephen Wampler, who has severe cerebral palsy like me, and is currently preparing to climb El Capitan, the granite cliff in Yosemite, planning to pull himself up 6-inches at a time with a special harness, where he’ll spend an estimated week doing it, specifically to raise money for a camp for kids with physical disabilities. And, he’s training like a maniac for the climb, where we all know that he will make it to the top, no matter what.

As I rolled by the closed door to my home gym, on my way to my bedroom – again, where I just wanted to go to bed! – I reminded myself that Steve won’t give up no matter how tired he gets, so why should I take the easy way out, and go to bed when I had every ability to push myself further? Of course, following Steve’s lead, I changed into my workout clothes and hit the gym. See, when you know of inspirations like Steve, it’s all but impossible not to live your best, so I’m always drawing upon others as inspiration, especially when I feel like I’m on the verge of taking the easy road instead of digging down and pursuing excellence.

While I’m constantly on the lookout for inspiration and use it to enhance my life, many around us are oddly blind to inspiration, choosing to dwell on the negatives in their lives, ignoring the empowerment to be gained by acknowledging the inspiration in others. Middle management in corporate America is a great example of such self-defeating, oblivious cynicism because you run into so many disgruntled, jaded employees – a striking phenomena not lost in in popular culture, where media ranging from comic strips to sitcoms illustrate life in a cubical that’s somewhere between boredom and insanity. However, where the real issue resides is in a lack of inspiration and admiration of others. After all, in many company cultures, when someone is promoted or gets a better job, the coworkers are often more inclined to whisper back-stabbing sentiments about the person rather than celebrate his or her accomplishments. Yet, when someone moves forward in life, what we really should do is be inspired by his or her accomplishments, admiring the effort, and learn from his or her success – that is, we should be thrilled to witness excellence because it’s a model that helps us grow. If she did it, so can I! is the spirit with which we should live.

Disability culture can be a lot like working among middle management, where some with disabilities can be quicker to criticize others than to be inspired by their accomplishments. For many years, I’ve known a strikingly beautiful woman who uses a wheelchair and is married to a wonderful man who doesn’t have a disability, and they have several terrific kids – they’ve worked hard, made responsible decisions, and live with uncompromising integrity. Still, to my dismay, others have flung criticisms at them since the day that they were married: She only married him because he’s able-bodied; he only married her because he could never get such an attractive woman who was able-bodied; and, on and on – horribly jealous, spiteful words coming from the disability peanut gallery of individuals arguably miserable in their own lives.

However, rather than criticizing the couple, the cynics ought to find inspiration in them, learning how to achieve such a loving, supportive relationship in their own lives. I look at the couple and I’m truly touched, not only in awe of their accomplishments, but I’ve sought to better understand the traits that allow them to retain such a healthy, fulfilling relationship, so that I can apply them to my own life. Again, when we acknowledge others’ greatness, it presents us with our own opportunities to learn and grow – that is, it allows us to be inspired.

This concept of recognizing the countless forms of inspiration in the everyday people around us, and using them as guiding stars, is by far among the most effective ways to motivate and improve our own lives. The fact is, if someone else has accomplished any given goal, it typically proves that we, too, can accomplish it – and that’s the true spirit of inspiration. The world is a mirror, where when we see the best in others, we’re also witnessing the potential in ourselves. Look for inspiration in those around you, and strive to learn from the best – for, when you do so, you’ll soon enough propel yourself from following their wake, to creating your own.

Facing the Flames Within

By Mark E. Smith

Tiger Woods. What’s up with that whole dysfunctional drama-rama? I mean, the guy attended Stanford University, but isn’t smart enough to know that vices don’t void your problems? Even I know that – trust me, I’ve tried. No, I haven’t slept with 14 adult film starts – not even one, thank goodness – but I do know that escapism never, ever works. In fact, escapism just makes any problems in our lives worse – really, really worse in most cases. Just look at how it’s played out for Tiger.

Now, make no mistake, I’ve tried escapism to avoid my own problems at times. I remember at least one night where I didn’t feel like all was going the ways I wished, and I went out and got rip-roaring drunk. And, when I awoke the next morning, not only were all of my problems still there, but I felt like my head was a banging drum and my stomach a churning sea, not to mention the other I can’t believe I did that thoughts racing through my mind. Escapism didn’t resolve my issues; rather, it added to them – as it always does for all of us.

See, our issues in life are like fires, and when we seek escapism – alcohol, drugs, sex, overeating, overspending, you name it – we’re not dealing with the issues that need addressing, merely avoiding them with vices. And, then the fires – the not addressed issues in our lives – just rage, until we lose complete control, and it all comes crashing down in flames. That’s the deceptive nature of escapism: It distracts us while our lives fracture.

Surely, some with disabilities are professionals at practicing escapism – they avoid facing the fires within when coming to terms with disability. After all, if you’re a woman who questions her “value” as a future wife and mother due to disability – wondering if you can ever be that so-called “ideal” woman – what’s an easier escape from those scary emotions than to engage in promiscuity, where you prove to yourself that you’re worthy by sleeping with man after man, feeling validated in the moment, right?

Or, if you’re a guy who’s struggling to come to terms with disability, who’s entirely insecure with his identity, why not just stay high on every prescribed and elicit drug that you can get your hands on? After all, when you’re high, you don’t need to feel anything, or deal with anything, and your doped-up friends require nothing of you, right?

Indeed, escapism is oh so tempting, and I’ve seen many around me engage in it – including myself – in one form or another….

…But, again, it never, ever works. Escapism is little more than degrading and destructive at best, and dangerous at worst. What does work is facing life’s challenges head-on, with courage and clarity of mind, where we don’t avoid our problems; rather, we confront them. When we hit speed bumps in our relationships, careers, or disabilities, that’s not the time to veer and run off course. We shouldn’t seek escapism in the vices that so tempt us – from as seemingly mundane as pulling the covers over our heads instead of going to work, to as blatantly dangerous as drugs and promiscuity. Rather, when we experience rough spells in our lives, that’s the time to get more focused on only pursuing positive directions, and, most importantly, addressing the emotions at hand. Put simply, when there’s a fire, many people want to run from it, but our game plan has to be to run toward it, where we immediately focus and strive to extinguish the flames with an unyielding intensity.

I recall going through one particular tough spell in my marriage, and my friends wanted me to go out carousing with them, insisting that it would be good for me. Again, after all, what feels better to most guys – that is, what’s more validating – than getting boozed-up and hitting on other chicks when your relationship is on the rocks? But, again, it’s a deceptive, harmful path of escapism that just builds a snowball of dysfunction, adding fuel to the fire. What does resolve issues is when we face the emotions in our lives rather than running off in an effort to escape them. As I told my buddies at the time, Look, you Neanderthal knuckleheads, the last thing I should do is drink and chase chicks during tough times in my marriage – I need to focus on my career, my daughter, and all other positive pursuits while working through the emotions surrounding my marriage, not run in the wrong directions.

And, such a mindful approach always works, where it doesn’t prevent or immediately resolve the issues in our lives, but it allows us to address them in healthy ways, where, when we come out on the other side, all aspects are brighter. As I like to say, Run from your problems, and you’ll fail; run toward your problems, and you’ll succeed – it’s just how life works.

No, I have no idea what specifically drove Tiger Woods to jeopardize every aspect of his life to pursue unquestionably destructive sexual escapades. However, common sense tells me that he was using it as an escape from something troubled within. And, some of us with disabilities can find ourselves pursuing the similar paths of escapism, avoiding issues in our own lives by chasing destructive vices – alcohol, drugs, sex, or whatever self-medication one chooses. However, like Tiger Wood’s life proves to the world – and, as some of us have experienced in one way or another in our own lives – escapism not only catches up with us, but it ultimately crashes down upon us.

Face your problems head-on with accountability and self-awareness, and not only will your issues get resolved within, but you’ll be a better person for it, where you’ll be respected, not humiliated, and where you’ll display dignity over degradation. Unfortunately for his family, colleagues, sponsors, and fans, you only need to look at Tiger Woods to prove my point.

Night Clubbing with Maslow

By Mark E. Smith

What a man can be, he must be. That’s the basis of Abraham Maslow’s theory of “self-actualization” – that is, an individual’s desire and potential to be more than what one already is. See, Maslow, an early 20th-century psychologist, studied people of great accomplishments, from Frederick Douglas to Albert Einstein, and defined the common traits that allowed them to propel themselves beyond the ordinary, into the extraordinary, and one of the key components that Maslow defined was self-actualization – or, the self-awareness to push oneself further and further, especially during circumstances that others might avoid.

Interestingly, in my college psychology and philosophy classes, I, too, studied many great thinkers, from the Greek philosophers to existentialists. However, the one that truly made me sit up in class was, in fact, Maslow – namely because he defined what I practiced in my life every day. Even as a child, I was totally aware of what made me feel intimidated or insecure or vulnerable, and rather than avoiding or denying emotionally disconcerting situations, I moved toward them, much like Maslow defined through self-actualization. I remember being terrified to read aloud in class when I was first mainstreamed into public school; yet, whenever the teacher asked for volunteers to read, I raised my hand and read aloud. Somehow I recognized my vulnerability and fear, and rather than denying my emotions, I had the innate self-awareness to know that I had to push myself beyond them in order to reach new potentials.

As an adult, my once childhood instinct to acknowledge my trepidations and challenge them – not avoid them – has become truly conscious. If I’m intimidated by a situation, I refuse to deny or avoid it; rather, I throw myself fully into it, knowing that I will grow in the process, that I can overcome any unsettling emotions and circumstances that I face.

A recent experience at among Los Angeles’ hottest night clubs was no different for me, where Maslow was on my side – my “wing man” of sorts – guiding me past my insecurities, onward toward my potentials. The scene was a rarity for me as a guy who’s more akin to working late into the night, instead of partying late into the night. Nevertheless, there I was at among the hippest of night club scenes: A table in the VIP section, with our own security guard, a dedicated hostess, and among my closest friends. And, all I wanted to do was to go onto the dance floor and dance – ideally with one of the ladies in our group. Yet, no one else in our group wanted to dance. I charmed, nagged, and eventually begged, but no one wanted to dance – nothing personal, they all just wanted to kick it VIP, as the hip kids say. But, for me, wanting to dance, while surrounded by my happy-to-just-relax friends who didn’t feel like dancing… well… that was like taking a kid to a playground and making him just sit and watch.

I soon realized that if I was going to go out on the dance floor and dance, I was on my own. Think for a moment of that proposition, and how intimidating it was: Theoretically, I had to roll out onto the dance floor, amongst the hippest of the hip in L.A., and just start dancing by myself, a guy in a power wheelchair – and somehow pull it off without looking ridiculous at best, creepy at worst. Now, maybe you have bigger apples in your basket than I do, but that’s an overall intimidating proposition, where most – namely, me – would feel vulnerable going to dance alone among the crowd.

Yet, I had Maslow as my wing man, where the voice in my head said, “Your insecurities and vulnerabilities now require you to just get out there and dance!”

I slipped out of our VIP section, and went and sat across the club for a bit by myself to muster my courage – then I just rolled myself out, into the middle of the dance floor, bopping to the music. I danced a few songs by myself, and then, as Maslow’s theory proves, a small group of women worked their way toward me, and one young lady, in particular, started dancing with me – a little eye contact going on – and I was high-fiving Maslow for once again getting me beyond my insecurities and into the chicks!

Within no time, members of my group were out dancing with me, random hotties (and not-so-hotties), were grinding on me, and I never left the dance floor, where everyone was getting down with the “fully self-actualized” me, being the best I could be, not avoiding an intimidating circumstance, but tackling it head-on – to a club beat, no less.

What I’ve learned is that the hardest aspects of life aren’t literally doing what we’re capable of doing, but convincing ourselves that we’re capable of doing them. When we think about propositions like speaking in front of a group, going on a job interview, asking someone on a date, or chasing any wild dream where our insecurities and vulnerabilities arise at the mere thought of taking such a “risk,” there’s always that overprotective voice that tries to steer us away from any pursuits that may create disconcerting feelings. And, most people use those intimidating thoughts and vulnerable emotions to avoid ever pushing their lives to the fullest. However, the moment that we turn the table on our insecurities and vulnerabilities, where we refuse to use that negative voice as a justification to avoid intimidating situations, but to instead use it as a catalyst to move us to pursue intimidating circumstances with all of our might, we grow exponentially and our lives dramatically improve. Our job, then, isn’t to avoid intimidating and vulnerable circumstances, but to actively pursue them, where our vulnerabilities aren’t weaknesses but strengths, where we are willing to risk feeling scared or embarrassed in the noble attempt to better ourselves. And, what’s amazing is that this self-actualized process always works. No, we may not get the job, win over the date, or immediately find success at the pursuit; however, by working through our intimidation and vulnerabilities at any given moment, we’re empowered to tackle more and more in life, where we eventually find amazing levels of personal growth, reward, and success.

Alas, Maslow’s theory of self-actualization never lets us down – not in life or L.A. night clubs! – where when we acknowledge our insecurities and vulnerabilities, and then consciously push ourselves beyond them, we don’t merely live as who we are, but we move closer to who we must be.

When Disability is the Story

By Mark E. Smith

I’m all for remarkable stories about remarkable people, from the historical and the famous to heroes next door. In fact, much of my free time is spent studying great people, where I’ve learned that we can discover much of our own potentials through the examples of others.

Yet, what’s discouraging is all of the mainstream-distorted disability fribble that we must wade through to get to great stories that involve disability. Sure, there are lots of so-called “inspiring” stories about disability on the newswire and television every day; but, very few are actually newsworthy when you take out the disability aspect.

For example, there’s nothing newsworthy about a 17-year-old kid with a great smile and lots of friends. But, if we give that young person a disability, then you have a feel-good cover story for your local paper, where, …Jimmy may not have all of his limbs, but he still has a smile that lights up the neighborhood. Or, there’s nothing remarkable about two parents with four kids who live on a farm. But, if those two parents have a disability – dwarfism – now it becomes a sensational reality TV show, Little People, Big World. Why is that? Why do we, as a 21st-century, westernized culture still see disability, in itself, as newsworthy and sensational, without requiring any real substance?

Unfortunately, the answer is, because our culture still doesn’t recognize the fact that many with disabilities live strikingly “normal” lives, where we work and raise families like most others. People still buy into the myth that disability, in itself, somehow makes every day “different” – and it’s captivating and mysterious to those readers and viewers who don’t know any better. It’s really tying into stereotyping and ignorance in the name of newsworthy.

Nevertheless, some with disabilities argue that such news stories and television shows about strikingly average people who happen to have disabilities are positive and educational, showing them in a “normal” light. However, that doesn’t prove true, as if that was the case, those with disabilities wouldn’t be profiled in the first place. The network, TLC, would never produce a show about an “average” family on a farm – that is, because no one would watch such a mundane subject. Yet, once disability is brought into it, then there’s sensationalism that sells. The X-factor is disability, and it reflects poorly upon everyone involved, including those of us with disabilities at large. The consequence is this: When people see those with disabilities applauded for living ordinary lives, it actually diminishes our equality, where if the ordinary is seen as our peak, then our true potential is lost in the message.

Interestingly, those of us with disabilities can likewise be falsely drawn into seeing the disability experience of others as inspirational, when it’s truly not inspirational at all. We can look at a story on television, just like everyone else, and say, Wow, isn’t it inspiring that a guy who’s a quadriplegic can play rugby, get tattooed, and pick up chicks? Yet, if you remove the disability, there’s no inspiration in that story – it’s every jock at your local bar. What we should do is remove the disability from the story, and see if true inspiration remains? For example, a 27-year-old preacher who travels the world speaking to millions is an amazing story, especially when you realize that he’s done it on his own, starting when he was 19, where religion is only part of his message, where he is also dedicated to speaking to youth about staying on positive paths, no matter the temptations or challenges that one faces. The fact that this amazing individual, Nick Vujicic, was born with no arms or legs simply adds to the story. The inspiration to look for, then, isn’t in the fact that one simply has a disability, but that he or she is truly impacting others in extraordinary ways.

Of course, worst of all is when the media portrays those with disabilities as inspirational when, in fact, the individuals’ lives are absolute train wrecks. TLC recently debuted a documentary on “Kenny,” the gentleman known from the Jerry Springer Show, who has no legs and walks on his hands. As the documentary showed, Kenny, a high school drop-out, caught the attention of some in show business, landing a decade-long career on the Jerry Springer Show, where he would sneak-up on guests and “freak them out” as “the man with half of body.” However, as the documentary chronicled, Kenny left the Jerry Springer show, and was living in a transient motel with his fiancée and her two children, one of whom Kenny thought might be his biological child because he had slept with his fiancée seven years earlier when she was still married to her husband, the legal father of the two children. Kenny and his fiancée’s goal was to have a paternity test, but Kenny insisted that no matter what, he would be there for the two children – and they even called him ”Dad.” Well, the paternity test came back negative – Kenny was not the father – and the documentary ends with an update that Kenny left his fiancée and the two children, and is now living with his parents.

Now, where the documentary crossed the line was in perpetually stating what a remarkable, inspiring individual Kenny is, seemingly oblivious that his life and choices are horrendous at best, devastating to others at worst – after all, how does a man of any moral fiber whatsoever vow to raise two children, have them living in poverty in a transient motel, then split? That may be a Jerry Springer episode, but it certainly isn’t inspirational, as TLC insisted.

Surely some reading this might argue that disability defines my own life story, asking the question of, Mark, if you remove disability from your own story, is there anything left to your merit beyond a guy with cerebral palsy?

It’s a valid question, and I believe that the answer is, absolutely there’s more to my life story than cerebral palsy. See, my roles – through the mobility industry, writing, speaking, and charity – aren’t centered so much around my own disability, but are ultimately centered around serving others. Yes, my disability adds to the story, but it’s ultimately my larger efforts in life that create what I hope is a legacy of positively effecting the lives of others in many different ways. And, that’s how we should all assess the merits of our own lives if we end up in the public light in any way, where we candidly ask ourselves, Am I being acknowledged solely based on disability, or because of the larger merits and accomplishments in my life? Again, individuals like Nick Vujicic are great examples, where disability, by nature, may be part of the story, but it’s not the whole story – and I strive to follow their leads by making my own life less about disability and more about making a difference in the world around me.

Indeed, I applaud mainstream media stories about those with disabilities, but only when they’re warranted. I don’t want to read about how 17-year-old Jimmy’s smile cheers up the neighborhood as one with a disability – it patronizes and reduces Jimmy to less than his potential, as it ultimately does everyone else with a disability. Nor do I want to see absolute train wrecks with disabilities presented as inspirational, making the inexcusable, excusable based solely on disability.

However, what I do enjoy seeing are stories like when 17-year-old Jimmy, who happens to have a disability, gets a summer internship on Capitol Hill – that’s a great news story, as it would be about any 17-year-old with such accomplishment. Put simply, let us find inspiration in stories about the sum of one’s humanity and accomplishments, not the singularity of disability, where stories don’t patronize but honor.