WONDER WOMAN
Teenage girls with disabilities always stick together. They always have each other's backs. They would never be catty or mean to one another. Gag me. Teen girls with disabilities, in the seventies, were just as catty, selfish, and mean as their non-disabled peers.
Mary was two years older than I was. She also had CP. It was difficult for her to talk. She'd throw her head back. take a deep breath and struggle to get her words out. It was painful to watch. I can only imagine how painful it was for Mary. In high school, she was given a communication board. Mary refused to use it. My guess is that even though talking was difficult for her using d a communication board made her feel weird. She probably did not want to appear more disabled than she already was.
Mary's mom pushed for us to be friends. Mary and I had little in common except for our shared diagnosis of cerebral palsy. Mary hated school/I knew from an early age that I wanted to go to college. Mary faked being sick as much as she could. (I tried it once. My mom was no dummy. She knew I wasn't sick. She let me stay home but made it clear I was never to try it again) Marty told me no one was going to make her do anything she did not want to do. No one ever did.
When I was still able to push myself in a manual wheelchair our moms took us to the mall. Mary held on to my chair while I pulled her along. She got a free ride. I got blisters. Mary knew how to get what she wanted that's for sure.
In the eighth grade through high school, I was teased and called names (Virgin Ears, was a favorite.) The kids in my class thought it was hilarious when they dropped heavy books on the to watch me startle.
I brought my lunch from home. If I had chips in my lunch Mary would grab them, hold them out of my reach, then smash them into potato chip dust while the kids who saw what she was doing laughed their heads off.
This went on for a while until the day I had had enough. I do not know what possessed me. I had never fought back or lashed out at my classmates before What happened after lunch makes me sound like a terrible person, but I was thirteen. and fed up. I had to stand up for myself. I did. I started scratching her. I drew a little blood. My teacher stopped me.
Mary never touched my lunch again The other kids eased up on me a bit too
My mom lectured me on how lucky I would be if none of the scratches got infected. That was the end of it. Mary was fine.
I am both embarrassed and proud of my actions that day in 1970.
Would you believe her mom still tried to get us to be friends?
Mary was two years older than I was. She also had CP. It was difficult for her to talk. She'd throw her head back. take a deep breath and struggle to get her words out. It was painful to watch. I can only imagine how painful it was for Mary. In high school, she was given a communication board. Mary refused to use it. My guess is that even though talking was difficult for her using d a communication board made her feel weird. She probably did not want to appear more disabled than she already was.
Mary's mom pushed for us to be friends. Mary and I had little in common except for our shared diagnosis of cerebral palsy. Mary hated school/I knew from an early age that I wanted to go to college. Mary faked being sick as much as she could. (I tried it once. My mom was no dummy. She knew I wasn't sick. She let me stay home but made it clear I was never to try it again) Marty told me no one was going to make her do anything she did not want to do. No one ever did.
When I was still able to push myself in a manual wheelchair our moms took us to the mall. Mary held on to my chair while I pulled her along. She got a free ride. I got blisters. Mary knew how to get what she wanted that's for sure.
In the eighth grade through high school, I was teased and called names (Virgin Ears, was a favorite.) The kids in my class thought it was hilarious when they dropped heavy books on the to watch me startle.
I brought my lunch from home. If I had chips in my lunch Mary would grab them, hold them out of my reach, then smash them into potato chip dust while the kids who saw what she was doing laughed their heads off.
This went on for a while until the day I had had enough. I do not know what possessed me. I had never fought back or lashed out at my classmates before What happened after lunch makes me sound like a terrible person, but I was thirteen. and fed up. I had to stand up for myself. I did. I started scratching her. I drew a little blood. My teacher stopped me.
Mary never touched my lunch again The other kids eased up on me a bit too
My mom lectured me on how lucky I would be if none of the scratches got infected. That was the end of it. Mary was fine.
I am both embarrassed and proud of my actions that day in 1970.
Would you believe her mom still tried to get us to be friends?
No comments:
Post a Comment