As a little girl, I was told that my disability needed to be cured.Through campaigns and ads, I learned that the more able a person is, the more successful they would be.Bionic legs and stem cell research all conveyed the same message to me: I needed superhuman powers in order to be “normal.”Somehow, I managed to reach 19 years of age without a stem cell transplant or bionic limbs to carry me.Somehow, I ignored the stigma and the idea that disability equated with unsuccessfulness.In turn, I realized that my disability, while at times inconvenient, has taught me about diversity.
People often associate diversity with race, gender, religion, and sexual orientation, but disability rarely enters the conversation.This is because the disabled body is seen as “fixable.”Many people believe that with enough surgery, treatments, therapy, and hard work, disabilities will be abolished, and maybe they are right.Maybe, one-day stem cells will repair the damaged parts of the brain that cause neuromuscular disorders. Maybe it will decrease people’s hardships, but maybe it will also decrease sensitivity, empathy, and a unique perspective.
People fail to understand that disabled people have experiences that their able-bodied peers will never have, and as a result, they see the world differently.For instance, as a result of prejudice, I learned to not to judge people too quickly.Experiencing prejudice is painful, but it has allowed me to empathize with others and understand that there is more to a person than his body.
A cure may be helpful for some people, but I do not need one.My body is perfect with all of its constraints and limitations because it has enabled me to become the person I am today.
