About me:
I have been through a lot of emotional and physical hardships in my life. I was two months premature when I came into the world weighing only two and a half pounds. I was born in New York but soon moved to France where my mom was born so we could live with her parents. My grandmother noticed there was something wrong with me when I was eight months old and unable to sit up by myself. My mother took me to see a doctor at her mother's urging and he told her that there was nothing wrong with me except that I was a little bit developmentally behind for my age and that I would catch up. Well, I never really caught up and my mother took me to another doctor when I was under a year old and it was discovered that I had what the French called, Little's disease otherwise known as Cerebral Palsy.

We moved back to New York soon after because my mother felt that I would get better health care and more rights living in America. When I was a little under three years of age I had my first surgery on both legs to loosen some muscles in my legs that were tight. Over the years I have had fourteen more surgeries (seven on each leg). My last operation was in the summer of 1997 and I stayed in the hospital from the first week of July until the second week of September. During that short period of time I achieved a few very important goals and I learned a lot about who I am as a person. That experience, all be it physically and emotionally draining, was very important in my life.

For the first two days post-op I stayed in The Hospital for Special Surgery in Manhattan. The last set of surgeries I had had, had before the one in 1997 took place in 1989. I was about eight years old and this time around I was fourteen years old but a lot of the 'little girl fears' that I had at eight still consumed me at age fourteen: "Will I wake up when it is over? What if my medication wears off after surgery? Will my legs be worse or better when I leave rehabilitation? Will therapy really hurt?

The surgery that I had was called a hamstring lengthening procedure. In laymen's terms: The muscles behind my knees were very tight causing me to bend them when I walk, thus causing back pain, neck pain, fatigue, and depression. This was my third hamstring surgery. I had one when I was four and one when I was six. When you get older and don't have lots of physical therapy your muscles change and get tight again. I thought this one would work and for the most part it has, thank goodness.

Needless to say, ninth grade was not a very nice time for me. I had just started attending Beacon Highschool and did not really know anyone. I had been in regular education (mainstreamed) since I was five years old. One would think that I would be used to "normal" kids by now but I was not used to them being all I had around me. I resented them for what they could do and what I couldn't. I had been in two mainstreamed schools before but even though I was the only one in my class who was disabled there were always seven or eight other kids in the school that were disabled. With these kids I had a special kind of gym, with these kids I shared a physical therapist, with these kids I raced, I went on trips, with this kids I spoke of the hardships of being disabled and in a "normal" school. That was lost when I came to Beacon.

Since I came to Beacon there have been three disabled kids but non (in my opinion) really embraced the disabled culture and/or felt comfortable with it as part of who they are. So at Beacon I lost that sense of friendship and belonging that I sorely missed. By the end of freshmen year the only class I really loved was English, and even that dwelled a bit, but I made it through with all my credits to boot.

I was strangely excited and nervous about my stay in Blythdale Children's Hospital (a rehabilitation hospital). There is a community connected to it that I have been involved with since four years old. I would finally get to be involved in the community that I had missed out on for almost a year, but I knew in order to be involved with it I had to experience some kind of pain. I did experience emotional an physical pain but in the end it was worth it. During that time I felt fully surrounded and supported. I went home on weekends but I didn't really miss home that much. Everyday there I would see something amazing happen: I saw two kids with no legs get braces and walk by themselves. I saw a girl that needed oxygen and a power chair get up and walk, no oxygen, no power no chair by the time I left. I also saw many other amazing accomplishments and they inspired me to work hard and accomplish my goals.

By the time I left BlythdaleI had excellent range of motion in my legs, I could draw a straight line, I could grasp things in my left hand better then before, I could ride a bike and pull a lot of weight behind me, and last but not least I could walk with crutches and not my walker. In the summer school over there I worked real hard. In eighth grade I got a forty-three on my math RCT (I hate math with a passion) that really bothered me. So like I said I really worked hard and I had wonderful teachers and I got an eighty-seven. I was so happy.

My disability makes me a lot slower then most kids but it makes me stronger and more mature then most kids as well. I would not hide my disability if I could (better it yes, but not hide it) I am proud of my culture and I am proud of the lessons that I have learned: fight, believe in yourself, and what does not kill you will make you stronger. I am part of a people that (for the most part) will never give up the fight for equality and justice and when I am older I intend to help them (a lot more then I have been able to) with that fight. I want to show people that they can fight for what they really want and live productive, healthy lives.

Chere out some of Julie's writing in The writing corner