When it comes to the educational system for a person with a disability, it is untraditional at best and ableist or underfunded/under-supported (or both) at its worst. Not only am I personally well-acquainted with the struggles of special education, but my mother is also a former special education teacher who knows firsthand how little funding and support they receive. While my experiences may not have been nearly as bad as what others have gone through, I most certainly had a unique journey. I’d like us to take a look back together at how this journey unfolded, the good parts and the bad, starting from the beginning.

I got my very first electric wheelchair when I was in kindergarten, but for the first two weeks I was using a manual wheelchair. Since my arms were really weak and I struggled to push the wheels on my own, I had to have someone push me around. That someone was Jaque (pronounced like Jackie) Durazo. She was a really sweet, short, long black-haired Mexican girl that was in my class, and I had a massive crush on her (probably set the foundation for my huge weakness for Latinas). Every day during recess, Jaque would go out of her way to push me all around the playground and have me sit with her and her friends while we all talked and ate lunch or snacks. I remember feeling like such a ladies man. I miss those two weeks sometimes.

Now as much as I loved being surrounded and doted on by a bunch of pretty girls, I felt so much freer and more independent once I got my first wheelchair. I used to drive all around the playground trying to make friends and play with everybody. I remember in 4th grade, when I moved from San Diego to Dallas, I had a friend group that would play basketball together during recess. We all had nicknames to show off how cool we were. There was this girl Hani Pajela who we all called Jump Girl, but I don’t remember if it was because of her awesome jump shot or because of the letters p and j in both her last name and the word jump. Obviously I never had the strength to shoot or dribble the ball, but I could zoom around the court and pass (really just hand it off) like a pro. My friends gave me the fitting nickname The Messenger, and I felt like such a badass. I also got the added perk of Mrs. Arnold having all the cute girls wipe down my wheelchair during class every Friday. I loved my “pretty girl car wash” as I called it.

Even with all these positive memories, there was still a lot of struggle during that time. When I went to school in California, all of my assistance was covered by the school. When I moved to Texas, my parents had to fight for all of my needs. I didn’t have any help in the classroom, there were no accommodations for assignments or tests, and there was no way for me to use the bathroom at school. Since both of my parents worked a fair distance from the school, it was highly likely that I would’ve had an accident if I had to use the bathroom since my parents wouldn’t have made it in time. The administration didn’t give two shits about people with physical disabilities, and the “help” for people with mental or learning disabilities was minimal. If it weren’t for my parents raising hell, I’d basically be shit out of luck. They pressured the school into hiring a classroom aide, establishing accommodations for me to be able to complete my schoolwork, and ordering the necessary medical equipment for me to use the school bathroom. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for their active involvement in my education.

Then came middle school, and I had no more recess or basketball friends. I think it was around this time that I really started getting into my geeky side. My best guy friend, Michael Kiefer, and I used to sit together almost every day at lunch and read books about hunting dragons and try to hunt them down during our free time. We legitimately believed that dragons were real and that we’d somehow just stumble across one at school, and we wanted to catch one and keep it as a pet.

It was also around this time that I first experienced a girl having a crush on me, and she was my best girl friend, Lauren Lauper. We had been close for so long and I had gotten so used to seeing her as a friend that my tiny adolescent brain didn’t know how to comprehend this new attraction, so I told her I needed time to think. I took so long to figure out that I wanted to date her that she had already moved on, so…that was interesting. There was also another time in 8th grade where I had a massive crush on a cute blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl named Hailey Onofrey, but she told me she just wanted to be friends. That was the first (and hopefully last) time I ever cried over a girl (luckily at home and not in front of her) — but my dad had also yelled at me that evening because I forgot to turn in the money to get my picture taken for the yearbook (which I ended up being able to do another day anyway), so that didn’t help. Clearly I wasn’t traumatized at all.

Anyway, my middle school years weren’t all rejections and bruised egos. I actually spent a lot of my time hanging out in one of the two special ed classrooms, referred to as Structured Teaching Class (STC) and Functional Academics Class (FAC). STC was for the “higher functioning” students with autism or various other mental and learning disabilities who just needed more one-on-one teaching while FAC was for the “lower functioning” students who needed to be taught skills that most people take for granted, such as cooking, making their bed, doing laundry, and washing dishes, among others. One reason I was in STC so much was because of the awesome teachers.

The head teacher, Mrs. Lovell, was an absolute saint who always took care of me and treated me like a son. She also had two assistant teachers that I was very close with and still like to visit from time to time whenever I come to Dallas. Mr. White was (and still is) kind of a dorky theater guy who always knew how to make everyone laugh. Mr. Reed was the young, cool guy that made us all feel like bros. I remember how Mr. Reed started a club with all the male students in STC, which we called The DUDES Club (after being advised that it would be a bad idea to call it The Gentlemen’s Club or The Men’s Club for obvious reasons). It was an acronym that stood for “Determined United Dreamers Exploring Sameness.” I still look back on those times fondly, despite the cringeworthy name.

The other major reason I spent a lot of time in STC is because of the bathroom that it shared with the adjoining FAC classroom. It was the only accessible bathroom in the school, so I became very familiar with both of the classrooms. The FAC classroom had maybe two teachers to help and take care of a decently sized class of students with various disabilities and difficulties, and it was not uncommon for many of them to have tantrums or get physical. It was clear to anyone who paid a little attention and cared that these teachers didn’t receive nearly as much support as they deserved, financial or otherwise. While it didn’t affect me personally, it was hard to see these people who I cared about struggle so much.

As far as my own situation, I was lucky enough to not have to struggle nearly as much as I did in elementary school. My parents didn’t have to fight for my needs to be met because the school already had systems in place. I had an aide to help me in my classes, they offered adaptive P.E. every week to help me meet the physical education requirements, and I met with an Occupational Therapist (OT) at least once a month to make sure I had whatever adaptive technology I needed to help me with my studies (laptops with speech-to-text software, textbook stands, etc). I’m not saying it wasn’t problematic that I only had one accessible bathroom in the whole school, but to the best of my memory I didn’t have to worry about sharing it with too many people, and it wasn’t too big of a school for me to reach the bathroom fairly quickly.

Now we arrive at the high school years, and that’s a chaotic time for everyone. Hormones raging, gossip flying, stress rising, college applications filling, and lives changing all within the span of four years. I remember growing up watching movies and tv shows that portrayed high school as a crazy, awesome time full of drama, sex, and wild parties. The reality was pretty disappointing. There were certainly people throwing parties and teen girls getting pregnant, but I was never invited to those parties and never had a hot make-out session or hookup. I was the innocent late-bloomer type of guy that spent most of my free time studying and doing homework. Whether I was innocent because I was never invited or I was never invited because I was innocent is still up for debate.

Which isn’t to say that I didn’t have plenty of friends, though. Practically everyone at school knew me or knew of me, but it’s hard not to when my wheelchair sticks out like a sore thumb. No matter which way you look at it, though, I was fairly popular. One of my favorite memories from high school was when I had about twenty or so friends over to my house for my 16th birthday, and we ended up getting in the jacuzzi. There was this girl there named Dylan Thomas (now married with a different last name) who was always super sweet and friendly with me, and – – you guessed it – – I had a massive crush on her. At one point during the party we were in the jacuzzi together, and she asked me if she was my best friend (or best girl friend, not sure which). After I obviously said yes, she came up to me and gave me a big hug! For a (mostly) innocent teenage boy like me, what’s better than getting hugged by a hot girl in a hot tub?

I wish I could say I was always that lucky with hot girls, but that would be a lie. There was one girl on one occasion in particular that really sucked. The occasion was senior prom and the girl was Magan Massey. I’ll try to keep this story short since I tend to ramble, but she said yes to being my date and it wasn’t at all what I was hoping for.

So before the dance, we had a double date dinner with her friend Natalie Medeles and her boyfriend. During the dinner, Magan only talked to me once and it was to record a video for Vine or Instagram. Luckily, Natalie was really sweet and chatted with me for the majority of the dinner. Afterwards, we took the obligatory prom pics and headed to the dance.

When we arrived, we had to wait for Natalie and her boyfriend since they parked a little bit further away, which took a while. Keep in mind, we had limited time because Magan was a troublemaker and her parents told her to get home at a certain time. You guys don’t need to tell me that it should’ve been a red flag, but the only other girl I considered asking to prom didn’t even talk to me, and I wasn’t gonna go to the biggest event of my high school years stag. Anyway, Natalie and her boyfriend finally arrived and we headed inside without about 30 minutes left until Magan had to leave. As I turn to ask Magan out to the dance floor, she IMMEDIATELY leaves to go dance with her friends! I DIDN’T GET A SINGLE SONG TO DANCE WITH MY PROM DATE!! Needless to say I was really disappointed, but at least I ran into some old friends and got to dance with another cute girl, so it wasn’t a total loss.

Now as much as I absolutely hated that experience, I want to make it clear that I don’t still hold it against her. It’s been a whole decade since then, and I’m sure that she’s grown and matured a lot as a person in that time. A lot of us were dumb and immature in high school, given the raging hormones I mentioned earlier. I wish nothing but the best for her, and maybe someday we can get together and catch up and laugh about all the stupid shit we did when we were younger.

Anyways, now that we’ve talked about my personal experiences, let’s discuss the special ed situation at the school. In addition to the STC and FAC classes, they had a third “class” called Life Skills for all of the students who needed 24/7 care due to their various mental disabilities. I put that word in quotations because they weren’t actually taught anything, it was basically just babysitting. Those students were even more likely to get aggressive than the ones in middle school, and they were bigger and stronger and could do more damage.

Most of the teachers in that room were a bit older, so I was worried about how much abuse they could potentially handle. All the teachers I knew in each of the classrooms were great people, so I have no doubt that the students all received great care and attention and assistance. But I know from everything my mom has told me about her special ed teaching years that these amazing people don’t receive nearly the pay they deserve for all the hard work that is asked of them. And when you take into account how often they go above and beyond with very little appreciation, it’s no wonder so many of them have quit or retired early.

As far as my own needs go, everything was well taken care of. I had plenty of awesome aides in the classroom (special shoutout to Alex Burris), and my classmates were also kind enough to help me if my aide was out sick or busy. I still had the same OT who I saw regularly (thanks for everything Ronna Hornsby), and she always had my back. I was able to take a class called PALS (where disabled and non-disabled students worked together) in order to satisfy my P.E. credit, which was (and possibly still is) taught by the amazing Katie Abel. I was still pretty much limited to just one accessible bathroom, but I had gotten so used to it that it wasn’t really a problem anymore. The only real struggle for me was that my high school was huge and both of the elevators were at the ends of the campus, so there was a lot of rushing around between classes. Overall, I’d say my own experience was solid but that the teachers deserve(d) so much better.

Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve finally reached the college years, the last step of my educational journey. Thank you for sticking with me this far! Go ahead and give yourself a pat on the back! We’re going to skip community college (all good, nothing special) and go straight to my university experience.

I went to the University of San Diego (USD), an expensive private Catholic university. I, on the other hand, took this time to reinvent myself as a proud party animal and sinner (within reason, of course)! I wanted to make the most of my time, so I immediately rushed just about every fraternity the same semester I transferred. I soon found my brothers in Pi Kappa Phi, and I couldn’t have been happier in my decision.

I also joined the Associated Student Government (ASG) because I wanted to be part of something bigger than myself and make a real difference on campus. I spent the next 2 years voting on a wide variety of rules and movements and approvals big and small that affected the student body, and I also got to attend some interesting events and meetings. It wasn’t always exciting (except that one weirdly dramatic time), but it was important work and someone had to step up (or roll up) and do it. And at the end of the day, I learned a lot about how governments operate and got to work alongside some amazing people. It definitely prepared me for my future U.S. presidential campaign!

As expected of most major universities, USD had an office for establishing accommodations called the Disability and Learning Difference Resource Center (DLDRC). The DLDRC was able to help me get extensions on tests and assistance with note-taking since I couldn’t write them out fast enough for most professors, as well as being able to adjust certain homework assignments at the professor’s discretion if they were too long or cumbersome for me to reasonably handle. They also shared the office with the counseling center, so I was able to set up my weekly mental health therapy sessions in the same place (I highly advocate that everyone takes care of their mental health). They didn’t provide an aide, but I already had an aide/caregiver from the government so I was good in that department. There were also accessible bathrooms in every building, so it was definitely a step up from my previous schools. Overall, I’d say I had a very good experience with disability services. However, there was one major aspect I felt I was missing.

While the DLDRC handled all of my in-class accommodations, I felt no sense of community with other disabled students or the student body at large outside of my fraternity. None of the dorms had elevators, so I wasn’t able to live on campus and be more involved in campus life or even just visit my friends in their dorm rooms. The campus was incredibly large and the number of disabled students was quite small, so it was rare that I met someone who could relate to my struggles. That all changed the day I met Fanisee Bias at a leadership conference on campus, and I am so grateful for meeting her.

She approached me with the spectacular idea of starting a club that would act as a safe space and point of advocacy for students with disabilities. I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it myself, but as soon as she brought it up I knew I had to be involved. We started the approval process in Fall 2018 and had our first official meeting of the Alliance of Disability Advocates (ADA) on February 20th, 2019. I spent the next two years on the executive committee of ADA, and they were some of the most impactful and eye-opening years of my life. I learned about a wide variety of disabilities, heard many stories from countless students about their personal struggles in life as well as with the school, and became actively involved in supporting movements on campus to create real change for marginalized students.

For most of my life, I only thought about my own experiences and assumed that everyone else in the disability community went through life in a similar way to myself. Being a leader in ADA has allowed me to understand that the struggles of many people in our community and others go unseen, unheard, and unchanged, and it also gave me an incredible opportunity to help make these voices heard. I am so incredibly grateful to have met Fanisee and to still be able to call her a friend. It is no exaggeration to say that she has changed my life forever, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is destined for greatness.

There you have it. My entire educational journey from beginning to end, good times and bad times and everything in between. I’ve met some incredible people and had some amazing (and not so amazing) experiences. If you take anything away from this psychotically long post, it’s that the disability community and special educators need and deserve so much more support than what they currently get. I wish I had all the answers on how to change that, but one vital way is to vote for politicians who actually give a damn about these issues! At the very least, go hug a teacher or something! Trust me, they need it.