Tag Archives: Love

A New Wheelchair User’s Experience at the Women’s March

The first time I used a wheelchair was after tearing my ACL during a college soccer match in Washington, D.C. in 2005. My teammates convinced me to use one when we visited the Holocaust Museum, instead of crutches. I remember feeling invisible. I remember being trapped in the middle of congested hallways and exhibit rooms, seeing nothing but the backs of people scooting around and in front of me like I was a planter box in their way. I remember feeling empathy for people who spend a majority of their lives in a wheelchair. I hardly remember anything about the museum from that visit. And I became terrified of ever needing to use a wheelchair again.


On January 21st, 2017, I rolled in the Women’s March on Sacramento alongside some 30,000 people. I have only recently, very reluctantly, decided to begin using a wheelchair because of deteriorating health. My experience from college still haunts me, but I am learning to embrace how much more fully I can participate in life by using assistive devices that reduce pain and fatigue caused by Ankylosing Spondylitis. It’s the difference between staying home and showing up.

However, I was nervous about navigating the march, even with friends to help push me. I expected that I would spend all my energy advocating for space just to be able to proceed in a straight line. I thought I might regret the decision to use the chair, even though not using it could result in being bedridden for days or weeks.

Would I return home wishing I had not gone? Continue reading A New Wheelchair User’s Experience at the Women’s March

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I Love You, Terrorist

I love you, terrorist.

You have a name, like I do.

You were once a child. We both were, once.

Perhaps we’ve shared the same joy that comes from riding a bicycle. We’ve shared the same flavors of favorite foods, the beauty of sunsets, the feeling of joy while playing a fun game.

We’re both human. We share the same stars, moon, sun, and earth. Our bodies work in much the same way.  Food and water nourishes us and sleep invigorates us.

We both have parents and families that taught us how to discern right from wrong until we grew old enough to explore different sets of ideas and ways of thinking.

There are people in our lives we love so deeply whose losses we would grieve terribly should anything happen to them. Perhaps you’ve known grief at a young age, like me.

We are more alike than we are different. Continue reading I Love You, Terrorist