No Longer Confined

At birth, the medical team rushed my twin and me to the critical care unit where I was hooked up to oxygen tubes and beeping monitors. Because I went at least fifteen minutes without breathing at birth, I had undoubtedly suffered extensive brain damage. Doctors said that if I survived, I would be crippled and severely retarded. I would also live my life with cerebral palsy, a life between a bed and a wheelchair, as well as a life gripped with seizures.

“He didn’t get any oxygen to the cerebrum, the largest portion of the brain. It controls higher mental faculties, sensations, and voluntary muscle activity. Chris will never walk, talk, move, or even think for himself. Mrs. Coleman, I strongly suggest that you put Chris in a home for the mentally retarded and forget he was ever born,” the neurologist said.

My mom gave it no thought. She wasn’t willing to entertainthe idea of dropping me off somewhere and leaving me. A couple of hours later, my father showed up at the hospital. No one knew quite where he was while my mom was in labor. He had a different perspective on my situation. The idea of raising my twin sister, the five kids at home, and myself overwhelmed him. He told my mom he would not be around for all that it would entail in raising seven kids, especially this one with special needs (me); therefore, she may want to reconsider her position. No one could change my mom’s mind once she had made it up. She stood firm with the decisions that she made, and no one could deter her. My father’s demands were no different. She took me home. He left. From that day on, my father was a stranger that popped in and out of my life.

For the first five to six years of my life, I lay there trappedinside my own body. While lying and sitting there motionless and speechless, I was able to observe and comprehend everything around me. The only thing I could not do mentally was zoom out. I could not take a step back and look at my situation from a larger perspective. I could not visualize the framework that was being builtaround my life, because I could only see things from my limited perspective. This is where “Christopher” comes on the scene. He is the voice of understanding, my presence, outside of my body. He is able to analyze the things that were really going on and their impact on my life. When my inability to understand the situation occurs, Christopher makes it very clear.

Those who read through my experiences may find themselves anxious to quickly get to Christopher’s point of view. Harnessing that anxiety will give great insight into my heart. I too had a constant hunger for understanding in the middle of these experiences. My longing to make sense out of everything facilitated the birth of Christopher. This anxiety is directly related to the labor pains I had to endure.

I remember feeling like I was born a prisoner. The following thoughts and questions weighed heavily on my mind: Who am I? What am I? When they look in my eyes, they say, “Chris, baby, buddy, little man.” Whatever they call me, I know I’m not one of them. I don’t move like they do. I can’t talk like they do. They relate to me differently than they relate to each other. I think they like me. They are smiling at me and talking softly, being sweetand funny. I want them to know I can hear them. I want to smile and talk to them, but I can’t. Do they know I understand them? How do I reply? I feel removed from their world. They are free. I am trapped, trapped in a body that will not allow me to move or communicate.

It cannot be denied; my fight for freedom began withimprisonment. For example, some would say I’m not qualified to speak on the things I will address in this book, in spite of my education, in spite of my personal and professional experience, in spite of the fact that I am a human being who is able to communicate and form thoughts and opinions. Many think that my disability diminishes my credentials. I too have the right to freedom of speechin America. I do not feel a need to hide, sugarcoat, or bite my tongue on those things that have played a negative or a positive role in my development.

People can see the obvious when they look at me. They know that I struggle to pronounce my words, feed myself, and dress myself. But what they don’t realize is the lifelong challenges and struggles beneath the surface I had to face in order to get to where I am now, as well as the challenges I continue to face. There are just some things that cannot be seen by my physical appearance. There are some struggles and life challenges that many people do not consider when they think about the life of someone with a disability. In the next chapters of this book, I am going to take you on a lifelong journey beneath the surface of an American black man with a disability. I want to give people the opportunity to see life through my body, on the knees I crawl on every day, and in the wheelchair I constantly rely on for mobility. The reality of my situation has forced me to look at the world through a different lens. I now see life beyond my circumstances.