From a fairly young age I was exposed to those that suffered with both cognitive and physical disabilities as during my first couple of years of elementary school, the institution would host disability awareness days in which we would each partner up with kids with special needs. There would be games and food, just an indoor carnival type vibe. These events really humbled me as I realized the realities that other children faced and saw how they are either unable or have to adjust to ways of life in which society would view as simply “normal” or the “expectation.” After experiencing these bonds with them, I was more socially and consciously aware of the unfortunate negative receptions that they would also get. Towards the end of my elementary school years, I had started attending a summer camp where my mom worked and one of her coworkers also had a son who attended that we will call J. Although J was much older than me and had technically maxed out of the age limit to be a camper his cognitive disability allowed for him to stay much longer. When learning about J and his disability, as elementary schooler it’s understandably difficult to fully comprehend his situation. So, the adults around me always explained his disability to me as basically his brain was similar to that of a two year old’s, like cognitively. When J would speak, it could sometimes be difficult to understand him because he couldn’t really formulate complete sentences and the way he spoke equated to that of a toddler. However, for me, I just saw him as J, I embraced his differences and made sure to be his friend, not treating him any differently. One time during lunch, I was sitting with my friends and J sat at this table with some random girls that started bullying and making fun of him for his disability and it was extremely sad because J started crying. When I saw what was happening, I immediately got up. I stepped in and told them to knock it off and had him sit with me. I was nit going to tolerate that.

Years later, when I was in high school disability became personal within my life once again when another coworker of my mom introduced me to her son that I’ll call JJ who has muscular dystrophy that he developed around the age of eight. This was much different than my previous friendship with J because in this case JJ’s disability was physical as he was in a wheelchair since he is unable to walk, rather than cognitive. Senior year of high school he asked me to go be his prom date in which I so gladly accepted. Being in a compacted area at the prom venue in which there were many long dresses and crowds of people dancing, I could sense JJ start to feel uncomfortable because he felt like he was unable to dance  or maneuver in the so called ‘traditional’ sense. I was not going to allow his disability to define him or make him feel less then, so I got out there and started dancing with him and people even caught on and danced with us.

Lastly, growing up as the youngest child of six kids,  I have seen my fair share of them starting their own families and with that gaining the title of Aunt or Tía as some of them call me. However, during my senior year of high school my family, especially my dad became ecstatic because he was going to be a grandfather! Now this title was nothing abnormal to him because my dad has other grandchildren and a handful more of great-grandchildren. However, what made the birth of this Christmas Eve baby extra special was he would be able to carry the last name. This meant a lot to my family. Our other close family members are predominately girls; therefore, our last name would have most likely ‘gone extinct’ if you will. When we found out she was in labor, we became so excited  However, this excitement quickly shifted to pure terror when the baby was finally born because he lost oxygen over a period time which stopped his brain from working properly. As a result, he has to constantly have his mucus suctioned out manually through a tube since he can’t break it down on his own. He also is unable to hold his neck up on his own or sit up straight. He is unable to speak or move his hands and feet. Pretty much the most he can do is blink and make some noises here and there. His journey has been very hard to witness but we are extremely happy because three years later and he has made progress! He is even going to be starting school which we never thought he’d be able to do with a bus picking him up and everything!