What I Am

I met a girl a few weekends ago named Danielle. Her brother was attending a scholarship competition at my university, and I approached because I know how hard Oglethorpe is to navigate with a disability. Danielle is in a wheelchair, you see.

She grinned. No. Everyone had been very helpful. They had to take some weird routes, and sketchy elevators, but she wants to apply to Ogle when she's looking at schools. I was shocked, because when everyone else was assuming she was the student going through, I never did, because I thought that even my wonderful school might not be worth that fight. I'm drenched in the daily compromises I make in order to not make a fuss. I go up three flights of stairs when I have to, I never asked for the key to the service elevator. But if I did, if I had maybe people would have woken up just a little bit more.

Things are going well. Internship wheels are turning. Hyperbaric on my leg is going okay, though mornings are rough. Still love my school.

Oh. And I got into grad school at Simmons College in Boston. Not sure where I'll go, but I have somewhere!