A Voice For Me.

A Monologue from the perspective of a young person with a limited speech that I care for. She is my grandaughter who lives with me.

       Thursday, February 10, 2005

I'm strapped and secured into my manual wheelchair. Thankfully, my escort is fourteen -year old Nicola, with a mind of a twenty year old. She's my cousin and best friend. Some people say that I'm good looking with my shiny red glints, short hairstyle and contrasting brown eyes. My complexion is fair and I'm petite in stature.
I get really frustrated with people who think I'm a boy. Surely if they really looked at me; they would know I'm a girl. It's obvious that they see the wheelchair first. Another major insult is that people talk to my carer and ignore me as though I was invisible. I know that my speech is limited but they will not give me the chance to even try.

Another gripe, take yesterday for an example; Nicola and me were chatting on a bus drive to town. The lady who was sitting in the front seat opposite me spoke to Nicola and stated that she thought I must be hard work. Nicola told her in an aggressive tone that I was not hard work, but others around me were. She also told her how much she enjoyed my company. I don't hear other children being told they are hard work, but I often hear it.
Do they think I'm an alien from another planet or what? I've a good brain in my head for thoughts and feelings. Only a body that doesn't conform to instruction. I could run rings around people like them and not with my legs either.

Nicola also ensures that I join in all the games and activities. Most weeks we attend the local sports centre for children with a disability. Another evening we go to the school youth club.
Shop till you drop. This is Nicola's favourite quote. We are never out of one. I'm beginning to think I'm in a maze of shops and end where I begun. It's great fun all the same.

In my home there are many devices that keep me from being bored. Yes! I easily bore if not stimulated. I have loads of cd's and a karaoke machine. A computer that also plays music and video's, with plenty of games and books too.
Yes! A dog, a small dog. A Yorkshire terrier. Sometimes he is attached to my chair for his brisk walk. Yes! I mean brisk walk. That is when he's not entangled in the middle of my wheels below.
I also see my community from a different perspective than most. Because of my uncontrollable body, my head develops a forward thrust. Then my sight reverts to the large pavement slabs. You've got it, litter-louts and dog excretion everywhere. Yes! Don't forget, my nose is the nearest to the ground. See ya soon.

Author's Note

Any comments welcome. Hope that you enjoy this.

Reviews

[Carrie Montgomery]

Anne...incredible job: putting yourself in your granddaughter's "shoes" AND giving voice to her complaints. It is a terrible truth that people automatically assume that bc one is confined to a wheel chair or has physical deformaties or difficulties, that the mind is "soft" I learned long ago that most times IT JUST ISN'T SO! I have said before, and will again, I believe people like your grand-daughter are God's angels put here to test our hearts and gives us a chance to prove ourselves...sadly a lot of people fail miserably! God is peeking thru her (and many others') eyes...we would be wise to remember that. Love, Carrie Dale