� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
�
See the cuties in their party clothes
Oh it's getting warm
Off the shoulder, cut into the hip
Like a uniform
Did you think I'd want to tow the line
Well now the line is broken
Refuse to dance
Refuse to dance
Refuse to dance
Refuse to dance
You said, "You're such a pretty thing,
You could make a mark
I'll teach you all the steps you'll need,
Guide you through the dark"
Suddenly I thought I knew the song
The orchestra was playing
Refuse to dance
Refuse to dance
Refuse to dance
Refuse to dance
See how they follow
You say jump, they jump
You say turn, they turn
Look back in sorrow
I won't be there
(I won't be there)
Refuse to dance
Refuse to dance
Refuse to dance
Refuse to dance
Celine Dion
Celine sings it best. This week P-O-Y has decided to tackle the differences between conformity and individuality.
Individuality
I identify with the above song because there is an inherent obstinance in me that refuses to tow the line when it comes to the overused, lame excuse "Just because..." "Just because" a group's smoking pot doesn't mean I need to or should do it too. If I want to keep my health I have that right. I'm expressing my individuality. And I answer to no one, but to myself and God and to any whom I may unfortunately wrong in my lifetime.
This strong-willed attitude is inherent, yes, but it has also been developed through the years. You see, I'm in a minority and have struggled for a "normal" place in the world and for respect. I've had to overcome--and still am overcoming--some people's view of the disabled. The stereotypical view of any disabled person is that we are all mentally retarded. This is not true. There are many of us with minds as sharp and lucid as any walking person's. This view or ignorance breeds fear and/or revulsion in the people who do not know or understand the nature of disabilities.
Because I am disabled I'm automatically different, an individual among a throng of walking people. I'm even different among those who are like me. I have Cerebral Palsy, which is different than being hurt badly in an accident or having Muscular Dystrophy or even Spinal Bifida(sp?). Even in my category of physical limitation there are differences. I hope she doesn't mind me using her as an example, but Star-Heart, a fellow diarist, also has C.P. She is considered wheelchair-bound, as I am, yet she has the ability to bear weight and walk very short distances. I, however, cannot. With some help I can tranfer from flat surface to flat surface or transfer at a slight incline, and I can move my legs and pull myself about if I'm not in my chair. Then there is a fellow here in town who has C.P. as well. He is affected much worse than either Star-Heart or me. He is totally reliant on care providers and his mother. Thus, as I said, I'm an individual. I will always be different because of my disability.
Writing this now it's funny in retrospect how my individuality has come about from striving to conform to the "norm." As a kid I just wanted to be like everyone else. No physical therapy, no speech therapy and no special resource class for part of the day. And certainly no stupid exercises or painful leg braces to wear. No staring either, as if you came from another planet. I just wanted to be a "normal" kid who could play with her Barbies any time she wanted. Oh, and lest I forget, certainly no awful operations. Those were the worst.
As I got older I realized people had preconceived notions of me that were not necesarily true. Even my own mother. In high school one of our required goals was to take a foreign language. I wanted to try French, but Mom thought it would be too hard so I took Spanish. When Mom found out she was displeased because she thought that was also too hard for me. I received an A- for my efforts.
Since, there have been other battles to fight and win. I've had to prove I could do this or that. I have often felt I was or am an ambassador of sorts for the disabled. I have been very particular about my appearance. I will not go anywhere without my shoes or wearing mismatched (to my eye) or disheveled clothes. I won't even have a blanket or throw draped over my lap as it alludes to the invalid impression unless it's super cold. I'm no invalid, merely a physically limited person. Because of the stereotype I mentioned earlier I have had to, and still have to constantly, fight to prove I'm as smart as others, that I can do some things they don't think I can and that I'm not as helpless as they think I am.
Yes, it's funny how in fighting to prove myself and to "conform to the norm" I have found my individuality. This painfully shy kid has learned to speak up, to test herself in her ingenuity in doing things she might not otherwise have tried if people had not said "no way."
I know I will never be beautiful in the world's eyes, or even sexy. But I do have my own inner sunshine, my fortitude, my compassion, my intellect and this is what makes me an individual.
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