Finding
My Voice

Read an excerpt

My mother and
the bus steps

My mom trained me to climb the steps of a regular bus on my own. She wanted me to be able to ride it instead of a bus for disabled riders.

She took me to a bus area so I could practice. I boarded the bus several times, working on getting up those steps. We kept at it, and it worked out great.

I remember getting onto that bus. It was a real accomplishment in my younger years, something I could do for myself after having the chance to practice.

Apparently, long before I gave myself a show, I was rehearsing an entrance. The venue was a bus. My mother was helping with the preparation. My ambitions would eventually expand, but getting aboard was plenty to be proud of right then.

Before I had a microphone, a following, or a show called Mr. Wheels, I had those steps. And I had my mother helping me figure out how to get up them.

There is a lot of talk about encouraging disabled people. Enough inspirational language to fill a bus, probably, although good luck getting all of it through the door. My mother's encouragement came with something I could use: practice. She helped me work toward something I wanted to do.

She urged me to pursue what I wanted despite other people's pushback. Looking back, that is the spark I recognize. The beginning of the idea that I could have a say in where my life went.

An excerpt from the current manuscript. Final wording may change before publication.