Cerebral Palsy: A Love/Hate Relationship

Are you comfortable with your flaws? Are you fine with all physical or mental problems that you may possess? These are personal questions, huh? For me, I have many physical problems, ranging from a lazy right eye to muscular dystrophy in the left leg. I sometimes suffer from depression too, but hey, what person in the world is perfectly normal!? I have heard the common stereotypes for the cerebral palsy: "They cannot live in a "normal" environment." "They have difficulty communicating because we are retarded." Or, "You guys can never have a normal job". To put it according to David Ring, a preacher who has CP, "I have cerebral palsy, what is your problem?" We are minority, but we are people, nevertheless. The same people that are trying to fulfill one's goals and ambitions, just like the average individual. But, we chase them in a different way. I feel that persons with "disabilities" tend to have a more fierce drive to succeed in life. They are more determined, motivated and I try to find the positive in any situation. I have learned to accept my "disability", even though I do not consider a disability. I do not "suffer" from it, nor I do not want anyone to feel sorry for me. CP illustrates as another piece of my puzzle. It is an extra piece that fits.


"If you don't give it your all, you will fall." I came up with this quote in seventh grade and I stand by it each and every day. My life thus far has been a ever-going roller coaster ride. I have experienced very surreal moments and tragic heartbreaks. If I am in a rut, I utilized my accomplishments to give me the extra shot of adrenaline. Therefore, having cerebral palsy does help me refocus of what I want to accomplish. However, my CP has also allowed me to break my conservative shell.

My high school years were a smorgasboard of emotions. I was confused, frustrated, tenative, but perky, goofy, and funny. I did not find my true self. I did very well academically, graduated with a 3.2 GPA, and socially I was the unofficial team mascot. I provided the comic relief. I performed some outrageous things, especially school spirit week. Oh, my gosh! I loved this week, and I almost partcipated in every event. Senior year was extremely memorable. I was one of the kings of the school and I went completely bonkers. I think what I have done help soldified myself as a recipient for best school spirit for a male.

Homecoming occurred as part of the spirit week festivities, a capstone for the week. I wanted to do something drastic, but within reason. An assistant coach recommended a couple weeks prior I should paint my face the school colors of cherry red and royal blue. He even volunteered to buy the face paint. The idea was brillant and I obiliged to do it. So, on Friday during Spirit Week of 2004, I walked into Mount Pleasant High School caked with red and blue face paint. wearing a Vikings jersey and denim jeans. Almost every teacher I ran into that day was almost in awestruck and somewhat speechless. Some of the student body, on the other hand, shook their heads in disgust. Others relished the moment. To my knowledge, I am the only student to ever wear face paint on a school day. I also had another memorable experience during the football season. I cannot recall where I receive the idea from, but I conducted mini rally speeches during the game days at lunch. The high school served four lunch periods during the day (A,B,C,D). Lunch D was the time slot I ate. I do not recall how it started, but I reved up the crowd with a V-I-K-I-N-G-S chant. I ended it with "Let me hear some noise!", while the students slapped the hands repeatedly on the cafeteria tables. Finally, I have found my niche. Sure, some students were laughing at me, not with me. I did not give a crap because those actions freed me up spiritually. I felt alive and I let myself go from my shell.

Like any condition or disease, they do have an ugly side. Since I have a "disability", I tend to get frustrated very easily. I do put extreme accessive pressure on myself because I strive for success. I want to take the necessary actions in order to achieve that success. I am currently going through a transition period from recent college grad to potential employee in the real world. I must tell you up front. The real world does make any promise for anyone! Every job opportunity out there is every person for themselves. If you are not fully preapred, this chaos might send you into hysteria. You might doubt yourself about your own abilities, your school of choice, the major you hold a degree in, or unexplained events. Believe me. The real world is no picnic. When I graduated college in May, I entered in uncharted teritory. I graduated. Great. Now what? I did not generate a gameplan for myself. I was so consumed and preoccupied with finishing my senior year strong that I forgot to lay out a plan. I did not utilize part of this time to figure out my potential job opportunities. I also did not obtain a driver's license, to make matters a bit arduous. Obtaining a driver's license was the main focal point during the summer. However, I did not anticipate it would take a good majority of the summer to obtain it. I utilize May to recouperate from the lack of sleep I received while cramming. June and a good portion of July were waiting periods. I waited for four to five weeks to to have an appointment with the doctor for a physical. In July, I took and passed the permit test for a third time, but my career counselor strongly recommended to take driving lessons through an accredited driving school. Middle of July, I was evaluated through Brant's Driving School, a driving school that caters with individuals with physical disabilities. Brian, the instructor, recommended me operating the vehicle with an adaptation, a left-foot accelerator pedal. Three weeks passed and I started my driving lessons with another instructor, Dan, in August. No lie. On September 11, 2008, in Somerset County, I finally received my license. But, I have not driven since. My mother drives a 2007 Chevrolet HHR. One minor flaw though. It has a manual transmission. More obstacles are in the way. In a couple of months, I have achieved my goal, but I am behind the 8-ball in the job market.

I sometimes ask the question, "If I did not have a disability, would my life be any different?" Logically, yes, but I cannot fathom I would be the same person. I might have treated people with arrogance, disrespect, and negativity. This is a detour on my road to success, but this is a very fortunate detour. Sometimes, I would become so irate with my CP that I often thought about suicide. I felt I was unworthy for the ever-changing world. However, the detour was a character building exercise. I could blame about the recent USA economic troubles, or the "bleak" entry-level positions in my field. Instead, I appreciated the summer drama. Every one goes through some type of drama, good or bad. My drama tested my patience greatly. My attitude fluctuated severely, but I learned. I learned to take in your drama and absorb the potential. The potential of finding 'Why the drama happened?' and 'Why it had to be associated with me?" The uniqueness of one's life is defined by their adversity. How they overcame it truly makes them more unique from the rest. I am awaiting a job opportunity with a packaging company near Mount Pleasant. I am excited and anxious about it, but I am quickly catching up to the 8-ball.

People, Women, and Opportunity

I like to observe things, especially people. Variety of people make the USA a very unique and stand out from the other known countries, like the UK and Russia. However, I also like to take mental notes of how people interact with one another. Their interactions are just fascinating. Fascinating because their encounters are impromptu and you never know what kind of reaction they will make. I think observing is essential in getting to know a person better. You have to be careful though. Some might consider you a weirdo, which i have been called before. I bring up people because I have met quite a few of them. When I think of people, I also think of women. Yes, ladies and gents. I am a guy and I am VERY interested in the opposite sex. The hormones are ferociously raging and my parience is dwindling. Like many men, I ask the age old question, "What makes a woman tick?" This question might sound simple, yet the question is complicated and difficult to comprehend.


So, what is the million dollar answer to the question? I do not know. If I have the answer, I would be an instant millionaire right now. When we grow up through adolesence, we guys are taught by our loving, sometimes nagging, mothers to treat women with kindness, respect, and diginity. I love these qualities, but to most women, these qualities draw up a "wussy" flag. What is a wussy you ask? A wussy is a guy that will do ANYTHING for their particular love interest, according to Date Expert, David DeAngelo. Whether they are compliments, buying candy/gifts, or being a total kiss ass to them, a wussy use these tactics to gain attention. I, unfortnately, fit into this category. I have the good guy disease. I am "Everyone's Best Friend". It is a curse, but a blessing at the same time. I understand the modern woman wants adventure, mystery, and excitement. These qualities help generate attraction between the male and the female. But this is where I have a beef. Okay, over the years, I have heard complaints from hot women about how their boyfriends treat them like total crap. They ask, 'Why are there not any nice guys in the world?' I think I have an answer. The reason hot, attractive women are almost inferior to nice guys because it is a shock. The women simply do not know how react, similar to when a guy sees a hot girl. That shock deters them away from the nice guy. So, out of apprehension, she pushes the nice guy away. I have seen and been in this situation before. Another reason might be the woman has been accustomed to the rude treatment. Her self-esteem has reached rock-bottom levels that it is the ONLY behavior that she derserves. The third reason might be she does not know what she wants from a guy. Well, ladies, nice guys cannot be in limbo forever! Like I said, women are complicated and sophisicated creatures. It can be frustrating, but I enjoy the challenge. I enjoy figuring out how a woman simply how reacts around people. If I wrong about my assumptions, so be it. There are plenty of fish in the sea!

Let me talk about the other side of the coin. What about the "unattractive, ugly" women? I blame the media for bringing up this question. In today's society, looks make the world all the difference. Physical attractiveness is what most guys see in a woman. When they see a hot girl, they pounce. And, most times, they want to "hit that". I do not agree with this, but it is true. Do you find unattractive, ugly women on television? Almost never. But, what do you call unattractive? Unattractive, to me, is a woman who does not appreciate your company, almost taking you for granted. Unattractive women do not appreciate your thoughts and compliments. They might feel you are using these as a crutch because you are not physically attractive to her. Lastly, unattractive women do not make you feel good about yourself. In a coversation or in a relationship, the man and the woman should feel good about each other. If they do not feel good, both are just wasting precious time.

I have had my fair chances with women. The chances failed because of my apprehension of rejection. I hate rejection. Rejection hurts like dislocating a joint. Each time, it hurts more and pain is intense. Here is the irony. I have never tasted rejection. I have played the "What If?" card and it decided for me. I did not pounce on the opportunities and regret on those chances. I let fear get the best of me. I did not let my heart do the work. I always feared of what other people might have thought, especially my family. The immediate family does not judge, but outside of it, they judge often. If I dated an African American, for example, I would have been shunned from the family. They are very judgmental, materalistic, and it is simply not right. Now, I do not give a flying fly of what they think. I wished I seen this sooner. When I see couples holding hands, I feel resentment towards myself; all simply because I did not take the risk. Here is a word of advice: If you feel that special spiritual connection within one another, do NOT let it get away!

I have learned that it is quite alright if you cannot find that special someone just yet. There is someone for everyone. It might be today, tomorrow, or a few years from now. You will never know if you just keep trying. However, do not make it a lifelong quest. First thing first is to establish yourself and find your place in this world. The world is cruel, unusual, and sometimes outrageous. 9 times out of 10 people will accept you for you. If they do not, do not sweat it! The opportunity will come, opportunity will come.

How Did the Steelers and Football Become a Pivotal Role in My Life?

Everyone has a purpose in life. Some discover it at an early age, but others have to experience certain events to figure their true calling. I discovered what I wanted to do at the age of 8. My grandmother took me to a local American Legion for a football party. Back then, I did not know what football was and I hardly knew who were the Pittsburgh Steelers. Pittsburgh advanced to the 1994 AFC Championship for a spot at Super Bowl XXIX in Miami at home against the San Diego Chargers. The Legion, like so many local watering holes, hosted a huge football party filled with chips, soda (beer), and the main attraction, Steelers football on the big screen. The spectacle was unreal. Fans cheering wildly when Pittsburgh scored a touchdown. On the flip side, fans would hiss and boo at the screen if the opponent had an upper edge. I felt as if I was at the stadium with the fans. Unfortunately, Pittsburgh lost 17-13 on an attempted 4th and goal from the 3. However, the atmosphere was so thrilling and enjoyable that I founded a new hobby, watching football, Steelers football.

The Steelers and I are pretty much synoymous with one another. We both go almost together like peanut butter and jelly. Most of my friends think that I am a walking advertisement for the franchise because I constantly wear Steeler jerseys, even during the offseason. Whatever the case may be, I enjoy watching Steelers football. Every year, as the summer days dwindle, I await in tremendous anticipation the arrival of Steelers football. The Steelers not only represents the city, but they symbolize me. Blue-collar, hardworking, proud steel workers helped create the fabric of what Pittsburgh is known today, "the Steel City". Watching a hometown football team on a cool, dreary Sunday afternoon warms up the soul of the steel worker. It captivates the human spirit after an arduous work week. I identified with this prospective. I was taught to earn your stripes the old-fashioned way, roll up your sleeves, treat others with honor and respect, and do the work. For many years, the Steelers welcomed its opponents with its hard-nosed attitude, as the two combatants played a fierce game of football. I utilized their attitude into my daily life. Instead of beating them physically, I beat my naysayers by absorbing their doubt and converting it into self-motivation.

I wanted to particpate in athetic competition. During high school, I wanted to anchor the defense as a linebacker in playing football. I dreamed of being the vocal one, like a Jack Lambert, and able to back it up with ferocious, pulverizing hits on the opposition. Unfortunately, due to my cerebral palsy, I am unable to fulfill that dream. Instead, I got into student managing to keep myself occupied. I never felt such appreciation and pride during these years. Student managing helped solidify my foundation as a person and helped me better understand the rules of the game. It also fulfilled my contribution to the community. Watching and caring for my hometown team warmed up my soul, but the warmth took awhile to be present.

I made my student managing debut in late August 2001. Mount Pleasant traveled to Elizabeth Forward to battle the Warriors in Keystone Conference play. Heading into the game I did not know what to expect. I was excited to be affiliated with the team for the first time ever. However, I was even more concerned about how I would do. I entered into uncharted territory. Then Mount Pleasant Head Coach Mark Lyons ordered me to distribute the player equipment bags and to get all the equipment down to our sideline. Our sideline stood at the bottom slope of the hill. The team bus was parked on the top of the hill. I looked down at our vacant sideline thinking what a long way the trip would be. After unloading the players' bags, I gathered the coaches' equipment and proceeded down to the field. I was not aware of the route I took to get down to the sideline. Carl, the equipment guy, helped me carry some of the equipment to our sideline. He galloped around the stadium through the parking lot. Myself, I walked instead through Warrior Stadium, one by one, on the aluminium bleachers. I felt if I was making a grand entrance into the stadium, but without cheers from the crowd. I did not realize how much work I had to do before the game. For example, I had to make sure the team had sufficent amount of balls, towels, water, water bottles, kicking tee, extra point tee, and communicating with Coach Lyons about the pre-game setup. All night I ran the sideline like a chicken with its head decapitated. Michelle, the head athletic trainer, guided me through the process and made sure I had my head on straight.

I recalled her telling me, "Slow down! You are going at a million miles an hour. Take a breath and breathe."


Not a moment later, I heard Coach Lyons yelling, "Water, water, WATER!"

I ran to the players as fastest as I could, simultaneously swinging my arms, while holding the bright orange Gatorade water bottle carriage in my right hand. I ran quickly back to the sideline to refill the bottles. Each time a timeout was taken, or the quarter reached its end, I would run full sprint ahead, give out the water, retrieve it, and return the same way back to the sideline. This approach was simple, but effective. As the football season aged, I began to build confidence within myself and the team. My fellow teammates, the trainers, everyone associated with the Vikings began to notice my demeanor. The football parents began to compliment my work to the assistant coaches. Most saw the dedication and pride I was trying to spread. I felt appreciated for the first time other than my family. This appreciation was a surreal emotion, as it was very crucial in my character development. I utilized the "Steelers mentality" and quickly gain respect within the school and the community.

Do you know a coach, regardless of what sport, was so hot-headed, tough, and sometimes inferior that it was impossible to please? Mark Lyons fits this description. His style of coaching resembles a monarch, or a ruthless king, almost like Alexander the Great. If a player screwed up, he would go into a vicious tyriad, and sometimes would public humiliate you in front of your teammates and the fans in the stadium. His style was to rattle your nerves to get the job done. His stature was not imposing, he stands 5'8, weighs around 165, has short blonde straight hair, and a slender build. Out of all the coaches I have had to communicate with, he was the most difficult and demanding.

I remembered a scrimmage at Indiana, PA High School, prior to the 2002 season. The weather overcast with a moderate drizzle. The grass field captured the rainwater and it transformed the field into a semi-quagmire. Luckily, I had three younger assistants to help me during the game. Our efforts were unmatched to meet Coach Lyons' accomodations. I recall putting a trio of footballs wrapped in white towels in the end zone near the goal post for goalline offense during pre-game warmup. I ran back to the sideline to retrieve more towels. As I ran, Coach and I crossed paths. He asked firmly, "Travis, what are you doing?"

"I am going to the bench to get more towels." I replied.

"Why are you putting the wet balls on the ground in the end zone?"

"I was told to put those balls in that area for a goalline drill." I answered.

"What are you doing? You do not put the balls there!" Coach fired back. "Do you see it is raining out here?! I want fresh new balls in that area, and make sure we have fresh new balls for the scrimmage!"

Deplorable weather is not your best friend, especially with a wet natural grass surface. As a former team manager, these elements made my life a living mightmare. If you add Coaches' orders to the mix, it was a recipe for anger and frustration. All day long my assistants, the trainers, and I would try to keep everything in order. We survived, but I knew coach was not pleased. With each game, each mistake magnifies. I knew from that scrimmage and my debut a year before I had to be on my A-game every time to keep myself out of Coach's doghouse. The work was at times arduous, demanding, and sometimes frustrating, but I made this decision. The Vikings were downright pathetic during my first two years of football managing. Mount Pleasant were the bottom dwellers in their conference, with records of 1-9 and 2-8 respectively, in 2001 and 2002. As you can see, the team's swagger was dead and lifeless.

I recall a practice where Mother Nature reared her ugly head once again. Our practices occurred on a grassy field, beside the entrance to the High School Pool. Therefore, the field became muddy when wet.

The 2002 season was drawing near its end and most of the team waved the white flag in surrender. Morale was at a all-time low, and all of the members wanted the hell out. As for me, I continued to work with some diginity and pride. The team was in a 7 on 9 drill, with seven offensive players and nine defensive players on the other. It is a drill to scout the opposing team's offensive and defensive schemes. I kneeled behind the players, wiping the footballs frantically with towels. I tried my best in rotating relatively dried footballs during the drill. Mother Nature was winning the bout. Coach Lyons asked me fiercely to put a dry football down at the center position. I said I cannot do that because all the balls are wet and not ready yet. He ordered again to put a football on the center. I grabbed the towel, dried the ball fast, and placed it on the center. I do not exactly remember what he muttered after I placed the football. I do remember having a strong amount of anguish and disdain towards him. He publicly humiliated me. Parents stood from atop of the hill in shock of what just happened. The assistant coaches stood speechless, trying to comprehend what just transpired. At that moment, I wanted to drop the football, give Coach Lyons the bird, and walk off with my pride intact. I stayed. I stayed because I knew I had more supporters. It would have been foolish of me to let one person influence me to walk away. His "tough love" did not penetrate my strong will.

I do strongly dislike Coach Lyons because of his tyriant behavior and scare tactics as a coach. The Booster Club after that particular practice wanted Coach to be dismissed. They thought his actions were unacceptable and totally inappropriate. I agree, but Coach's "tough love" strengthened my character. I think we have a mutual respect with each other, but I proved to him, the team, and the fans I could manage. It would take much more than a public embarassment and constant yelling to crack my spirit. I will never know if Coach truly appreciated my presence and work. However, I am greatful for him being a "hardass" to me.