Today’s otherworldly experiences:

I am great when it comes to interacting with all sorts of different people, no matter their race, gender, age, sexual orientation, and disabilities. The best first impression is a generalized one, with hints of personalization. I would like to talk about my love and interest of people with disabilities. This is going to be a tearjerker for me. I love everyone in the same way. I love them because they are here with me in this moment, and they will be somewhere, anywhere, in the near future. How can I make an impression on them and how can they make an impression on me? Children with disabilities are especially wonderful. Like when a parent is celebrating the second, third, or forth birthday of their very wonderful, enduring child. When I was a lifeguard, the only word I knew, was that this child was “retarded” or “special.” I was young and naïve and I didn’t fully understand what either of those words meant. I grew up in a rural area and didn’t have the chance to meet a lot of people. I had a student; she had poor motor skills, poor speech, and many other disabilities. She was terrified of the water. I spent the same time with her than any other student, but I devoted my encouragement, enthusiasm, and patience to her. In the end, I taught her something very “special.” I taught her not to fear. I taught her to be confident. I taught her how to swim! She could only swim about four or five feet without assistance, but that inevitably would save her if she fell into the pool. And for that, I was extremely proud and emotional.

At my job now, I interact with a lot of different sorts of people. Its really tragic and sad when a four year old girl is undeveloped, unable to stand or sit upright, unable to speak, and very barely moves, but its really heroic when their parents celebratory, and its really great when I can get them to smile and laugh. Those are the most “special” moments.

It’s almost unbearable when all I know is that this two-year-old girl has “special needs,” that she can’t stand or sit, and that she cant speak. Then its almost depressing when her mom says that she is also blind. And when I feel like crying, I just smile, and keep trying. Then she smiles! And then, all of a sudden, she makes me feel grateful and special because… well, just because she somehow is able to sense my good intentions and a very great moment is mutually shared.

And when she opens her eyes, I say “hi, beautiful! There you are!

And when she starts to moan or verbalize, I say: “yeah, tell me about it!”