I wrote this personal essay for a writing class this year. Today marks the seventh anniversary of the moments I write about in the essay. There are so many people who have supported me along the way. I am thankful for my good fortune and for having so much love and support. Having been a lot of the time encouraging others to see how they can live more substantial lives through making a commitment to education and communication means I better celebrate this day for all of us. There are so many more who live in silence and must find their way out.
Feelings of terror and excitement overwhelmed me as we drove to Soma’s office. Our hopes for my future were riding entirely on this opportunity. How would I do? What would my mom think of it? Would I finally break out of my prison of silence? With these thoughts racing through my mind, we pulled into the parking lot, and there she stood, looking at her watch impatiently.
I had been living in a prison of silence for ten years and I wanted to be set free.
I had always loved words and often made many interesting stories in my mind, but I could not speak them because of my motor disability. My only hope was Soma. My friend, James, had made it out of his silent prison with Soma’s help and I desperately cried out in my silence to her, “Please save me!”
“Ready?,”Soma said with no introductions as we stepped out of the car. She was all business, and I was more than ready. I jumped in the air with excitement and ran into her waiting room. Having to scare my fears away and make space for hope again was exhilarating.
Calling out information in her smooth, rhythmic way, Soma, the champion of people like me, introduced me to the world of spelling out my thinking letter by letter. As Soma ripped paper and asked me to select my answers to her interesting questions, my head nearly exploded with determination to show my gifts to the world. I needed to show my mom that these things were coming from me. I listened intently to what Soma tried to teach me. Then I grabbed the pencil and started to try to spell out my answers on the letter board. I was doing it! Could my mom see how important this was to me?
Having this opportunity to see Soma lifted the chains of my imprisonment right off. Getting them to stay off would be my next battle. I needed to see to it that my mom would take the time to learn to spell with me. I tried to shout out to her, “Dare to do this, Mom!” but, like always, my words sat in my mind, wanting desperately to see the light of day.
“It’s going to take a lot of hard work,” Soma said to my mom. “That’s okay,” said my mom in reply. I really wanted this to be true, but I also knew that my mom was already so tired from everything that she was doing to try to support me. Finding our way took us to so many places where my mom would be told another thing to work on with me. Trying one more thing always tired her out even more. “Please use your life’s energy for this, Mom,” I prayed silently.
Spelling with my mom took every inch of commitment and some tears too. Aligning my body with my mind always takes tremendous effort. Thankfully, we give our all to nearly everything, and now my mom is my best communication partner. The many words that I have been able to communicate since seeing Soma are living in this world because my mom rolled up her sleeves, trusted her instincts, and spent many hours allowing me to see what I could accomplish with proper support. Determined and committed, I promise to do what I can to save others from their prisons of silence.