Jonathan Mooney is a dyslexic writer, motivational speaker, author, and activist. He is a graduate of Brown University and a winner of the prestigious Truman Scholarship. Jonathan is the Founder and President of Project Eye-to-Eye, which has over fifty chapters in over twenty states nationwide. Eye to Eye is a “national mentoring movement that empowers young people with learning disabilities by giving them a mentor who shares that experience.”
At twelve years old, Jonathan learned to read. Identified by others as “dyslexic and profoundly learning disabled with attention and behavior problems,” Jonathan Mooney wanted to free himself and others from being labeled. As a child, Jonathan was categorized as a short bus rider – a term used for children in special education. This misnomer led Jonathan, as an adult, to create a larger-than-life journey. He purchased his own short bus and set out across the country. Jonathan looked for children who had dreamed of whimsical, imaginative, and magnificent ways to overcome the stigma, the labels, and the negative perceptions of others.
Jonathan has established himself as one of the foremost leaders in LD/ADHD, disabilities, and alternative education. He is the author of three books, Normal Sucks: How to Live, Learn, and Thrive Outside the Lines, The Short Bus: A Journey Beyond Normal, and Learning Outside the Lines: Two Ivy League Students With Learning Disabilities And ADHD Give You The Tools For Academic Success and Educational Revolution. He has also appeared in The New York Times, USA Today, NPR, ABC News, New York Magazine, The Washington Post, The Boston Globe and numerous other local and regional papers in the cities, states, and countries where Jonathan has traveled.
Interviewed by our Different & Able President and Founder, Alexandra Nicklas, Jonathan shares his views on the narrow educational definition of intelligence and the fight to advocate for oneself. Jonathan says, “We need to stop trying to figure out what is wrong with people and focus on what is right with people.” He is hopeful that, by talking about one’s difference, society’s stigma of people with differences will be eliminated. Jonathan’s goal is that young people with a difference will be confident and optimistic in what the bright and successful future holds for them.
Michael Shipper was diagnosed with a learning disability at four years old. While attending a school for children with learning disabilities, Michael was introduced to sports and fitness. It was while playing sports, Michael found his confidence and his passion in life. Despite being judged by his peers and teachers, Michael excelled at sports.
As Michael grew older, he realized that not all children have a confidence when it comes to athletics, and he wanted to change that. To help all children reach their athletic potential, Michael founded Empowered Sports and Fitness. Empowered Sports & Fitness’s mission is “to re-define play. Instead of expecting athletes to adhere to traditional rules and regulations, we adjust our teaching and coaching styles to meet the needs and wants of our athletes and their families.” Through his organization, Michael helps children find the sports they enjoy, by focusing less on competition and more on the aspect of play, where children have the environment to grow, learn, and find a passion for exercise.
Michael is a personal trainer, who holds a wide range of certificates including: ACE Certified Personal Trainer, IYCA Youth Fitness Specialist Levels 1-3, IYCA Youth Athletic Assessment Specialist, IYCA Youth Nutrition Specialist, NASM Performance Enhancement Specialist, NASM Corrective Exercise Specialist, NASM Group Training, CPR & AED, Concussion in Youth Fitness, and DIR 101 Certified (Developmental – Individual – Relationship-based), U.S. Track & Field and Cross Country Coaches Association. He has traveled the world, where he has spread his love for sports and fitness. Most of all, Michael is a teacher and a coach where his goal is to “enable any child, regardless of ability or background, to have an active life through play and ultimately develop a long-term love for exercise”.
Change. It’s constant. It’s often subtle, but it can also be dramatic. It’s as variable as we are.
In education, we hear talk about the proverbial pendulum swinging from one extreme to another. We latch onto the promise of the “next best thing” that will change education for the better. That will transform learning. Buzzwords and acronyms are aplenty in our world. It’s daunting for a teacher to navigate these changes when there is no clarity of purpose. No goal. No active involvement or input to the process or what is best for our learners. That definitely needs to change. Yet, we can’t wait for it to change for us. We keep waiting on the education system to change-instead, we need to change the system.
What needs to happen in education comes from the Higher Education level on down to the school level. Teachers need to be properly prepared to meet the needs of today’s learners. Teacher candidates need to understand learner variability and how to design meaningful learning experiences that are inclusive, as opposed to the “one size fits some” way of thinking that we’ve been conditioned to believe is the way to go. We also need to continue to support teachers in their professional growth and development and empower them to understand and apply the principles of learner variability and inclusive design. We are no longer in a factory model of education, yet we continue to desperately cling to this notion that we must keep this system going. This factory model of education is reminiscent of the book Hooray for Diffendoofer Day by Dr. Seuss.
Hooray for Diffendoofer Day shows the comparison between two schools. One is vibrant, variable, close-knit, and fun. That is until the principal announces that the school must take a test to see which school is the best (sound familiar)? If Diffendoofer School does not perform well, they will close the school and will be forced go to dreary Flobbertown where everyone is the same and there is only one way of doing and learning things.
Without giving away the ending, what is striking about Diffendoofer School is the open embrace of staff and learner variability, which empowers everyone, and makes Diffendoofer a fun and high-achieving place to be. Diffendoofer School reminds me of Universal Design for Learning. Universal Design for Learning is an evidence-based foundational framework that is rooted in neuroscience. By tapping into the brain’s affective, recognition and strategic networks, UDL’s promise is to proactively plan for learner variability by providing options, choices, and flexibility to curriculum and learning environments. There is no one way to learn in a UDL classroom. Each student’s needs are assessed and met to the best of the instructor’s ability.
In a UDL environment, variability IS the norm.
The most important requirement for implementing UDL is a systemic mindset shift. However, that mindset shift is not possible without taking a deep dive within ourselves. We must unearth our conscious and unconscious biases around when, where, why, and how learning happens. We must examine how our beliefs can consciously and unconsciously oppress others. How negativity that can be rampant in our schools is festered by traditional educational design, our own attitudes and beliefs, and this “because I said so” mentality that reduces learning to a passive act of forced compliance, power, and oppression.
The days of forced compliance are coming to an end. The days of the teacher bully are coming to an end. The days of the administrative bully are coming to an end. To do things because “that’s the way it’s always been done” is coming to an end. The power paradigm that churns out learners and teachers in a factory, one size fits all system, which is not inclusive nor accepting of diversity or variability, is shifting. UDL is the vehicle that will drive this necessary shift. The UDL mindset is empowered, celebrates variability, differences, and promotes equity and diversity with a compassionate heart and soul.
The work of UDL is healing work. It will heal our system as we shift, and will continue support the work as we move forward beyond the shift. It will help us navigate these necessary changes in our education system. It will take time, effort, and deep action, but it can be done. It will be uncomfortable. It will be scary. It will not be easy. However, when that shift happens, education will have emerged out of the darkness and into the light that empowers all staff, learners, and can spread into our communities.
There are some simple action steps that you can take to begin this process towards making education more accessible for all. Honor your fellow learners by proactively planning for their different learning needs. Actively involve teachers and learners in this process by co-designing learning experiences that are inclusive of all. Plant intentional seeds by sharing information about UDL with your peers. Include a clear goal in any lesson or training. Shower each other with love, even when it’s challenging to do so. If you don’t know how to solve a problem, remember that that is okay! Ask for support. Connect with each other. It is time for us to embrace these positive changes that are coming to the education landscape.
Hillary Goldthwait- Fowles, PhD. is a RESNA (Rehabilitation Engineering & Assistive Technology Society of North America) certified Assistive Technology Professional (ATP), who specializes in breaking barriers to learning through the use of Assistive Technology and Universal Design for Learning. She is the author of the bookOne Size Does Not Fit All: Equity, Access, PD, and UDL. You can learn more about Hillary’s work on herwebsite.
As you may have noticed, terminology that is considered respectful changes frequently. Today we want to share a style guide made by the National Center on Disability and Journalism at Arizona State University. You can check out the whole document here, but since it’s long, we’ve provided the highlights for you below.
Basic Principles:
Use people-first language. This means that you describe people as people first, and then as possessors of various characteristics, including disability and difference. For example, you would say, “Erin is a person with vision impairment who uses assistive technology,” rather than, “Erin is a vision-impaired person who uses assistive technology.”
Ask people what they would like to be called and how they would like to be described. Don’t make assumptions and avoid “diagnosing” others. Remember that others have a right to keep their differences to themselves, whether or not you believe you can observe their difference.
Avoid referring to difference unless doing so is important to your communication. Don’t identify others by their difference.
You can read the style guide’s recommendations for referring to various forms of difference here. Below we’ve gathered some of the suggestions you may find most useful:
Instead of normal and abnormal, use “typical” and “atypical”. Even better, describe the specific context of a person’s difference in detail.
Instead of calling someone an addict, describe them as a “person with a substance abuse disorder.” Don’t make assumptions about another’s potential addiction, and remember that a person’s status as a member of Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous should be kept confidential. If you meet someone in this context, you should refrain from revealing their membership unless you have their permission to do so.
Ask people with autism/autism spectrum disorders how they describe their own experience, instead of making an assumption about how to describe them. Some people object to the word “autism” being used as an adjective, so clarify before you assume.
Don’t use words that describe disability as metaphors. For instance, it might be hurtful to someone with limited vision to read the word “blind” used to as a metaphor to describe a person’s inability to understand something.
And finally, don’t be afraid to ask questions and to apologize when you mess up! We all make mistakes! If someone is offended by your language, apologize sincerely, and ask them nicely to explain how you could do better.
At the age of 17 years old, I learned that imitation was not the sincerest form of flattery. I was born with cerebral palsy, a neuromuscular disorder that impairs the coordination of my muscles. My physical disability led me to find comfort in sitting in front of the TV, where I escaped the pain of my spastic muscles by immersing myself in the images and storylines of beloved characters. Those hours distracted me from the reality of struggling with cerebral palsy, but television’s ability to distract me ultimately wore off. While I turned to television as a means of escaping my physical difference, what I really wanted was to be acknowledged on the screen, to see someone like me represented as an ordinary person.
What I didn’t know then was that there was a phrase for this elusive experience I was seeking: media representation. When I was growing up, media representation wasn’t the buzzword it is now; it didn’t take precedence in our social consciousness until a couple of years ago, in large part due to the rise of social media. The content I consumed as a teenager on the precipice of young adulthood impacted my self-image and my understanding of the world around me in ways I wasn’t even aware of.
That all changed when I saw a single television episode caricaturizing cerebral palsy, an experience that brought to consciousness how much I yearned for an authentic portrayal of physical disability, and how its absence in media was detrimental in ways I knew without consciously knowing.
Associate Professor Dr. Nicole Martins of The Media School at Indiana University Bloomington explains that “there’s this body of research and a term known as ‘symbolic annihilation,’ which is the idea that if you don’t see people like you in the media you consume, you must somehow be unimportant.”
My moment of seeing cerebral palsy represented on television came and went in a span of 0:44 seconds on Chelsea Handler’s Chelsea Lately show. I was sitting in my childhood bedroom, its accent wall painted the wrong shade of pistachio green, with my twin sister, Kareen. Under the brightness of fluorescent overheads Kareen lounged like a cat in the sun on her twin bed while my spastic body squirmed to find a comfortable position on mine.
Chelsea Handler called my attention from our chunky Sony television set: “I don’t know if you all remember Geri Jewell – she was Blair’s cousin on NBC’s sitcom The Facts of Life. It’s a show I grew up with and have a big allegiance to. Anyway, she just happens to have cerebral palsy and she just came out of the closet. So we have a clip from her press conference that we want to show.”
My ears tickled with excitement as I heard the words “cerebral palsy.” I remember being overcome with a sense of pride, it was finally happening, I was going to see someone like myself on TV.
What followed on screen shocked me:
In this clip from The Chelsea Handler Show, able-bodied comedian Heather McDonald portrays an insulting caricature of what people with cerebral palsy look, act, and sound like.
Able-bodied comedienne Heather McDonald walked out to a microphone wearing a curly bob, high waisted jeans, brown suspenders, and a flannel shirt—all to perform as Geri Jewell. With writhing shoulders, stiff spastic hands, and an exaggerated grimace with a wide roaming mouth, McDonald imitated Jewell’s athetoid speech: “Hey Everybody, I’d like to announce that I’m out of the closet.” McDonald cheekily smiled, cocked her head, and purposefully enunciated: “Actually I was never a lipstick lesbian because I couldn’t put it on straight.” She then mimicked the act of putting on lipstick with a wide movement of the arm followed by a grin. “What can I say, when you’re gay you’re gay,” McDonald claimed with a shrug of the shoulders and stiff hands at her sides. Before the clip ended, actress Fortune Feimster appeared as the girlfriend: “Honey, I am so proud of you,” she said and grabbed McDonald for an exaggerated sloppy kiss—due to McDonald’s performed lack of balance and coordination. Feimster can be heard saying, “steady, steady” as the camera zooms in on both actresses slapping tongues while a laugh track played in the background.
I blinked at the television set feeling as though a wave had hit me. Dread washed over me, my head felt heavy. Why is having a physical disability a joke? Is this how people see a person with cerebral palsy? Was I a joke?
I was acutely aware of my physical difference at a very young age. As the first child with cerebral palsy to attend a private French school in New York City, I was approached by the school principal about my orthopedic braces being in violation of the dress code. Despite my physical difference, I was expected to conform to an identity I did not fit and could not relate to, that of an able-bodied person. At the same time, I was also an outsider in my community, unaware at that age of the world of physical disability outside of my personal experience.
At the time when I first saw this particular Chelsea Lately episode I didn’t know of Geri Jewell, but the actress is a pioneer in disability representation. Jewell was the first person with cerebral palsy to act in a prime-time television series. Though Jewell had a minor role in the NBC series as Blair’s cousin, her performance was groundbreaking. Jewell’s character brought new depth to 1980s media. She utilized humor to address an ableist society’s discomfort at the presence of someone with a physical disability.
Something changed within me that day in my childhood bedroom, as I watched Chelsea Lately. It was then that I developed an awareness that my identity as a disabled individual would not be treated with respect and authenticity. It was in the name of comedy that Chelsea Handler chose to have actress Heather McDonald imitate Geri Jewell, but this was much more than just playing pretend for laughs.
In discussing Hollywood’s diversity issue of having able-bodied actors play people with disabilities, Huffington Post journalist Wendy Lu claims, “Disability is an identity just like race, gender and sexuality.” The Chelsea Lately episode’s mocking of the disabled identity is akin to the practice of blackface. Just as white performers have played characters that dehumanized African Americans, McDonald’s portrayal of cerebral palsy demeaned and disrespected the disabled community. Long after the clip ended, I remember deep discomfort weighing me down on my twin bed. The seeds of embarrassment and self-hatred had been planted.
Media plays such an important role in our lives. As much as it helps us make sense of ourselves and the world around us, it can also be damaging to the disabled community. Even though that episode aired in 2011, Hollywood still struggles in accepting disability as worthy storytelling.
The experience of watching that particular Chelsea Lately episode will forever be etched in my memory. I will never forget the disorienting experience of being falsely represented on TV; it felt like tripping and falling, being crumpled on the ground after my body betrays me. The betrayer in this instance though wasn’t my disability, but mainstream media’s discomfort with the disabled body.
In time, my understanding of this discomfort has lit a fire within me and led me to represent myself on my own terms. But I will not stop there. I am more than the images mainstream media imposes on me. I am an advocate for my disabled identity, and do not want other young people to have to endure what I did on that day nine years ago.
“It’s inspirational that you turned out so well adjusted, considering everything you’ve been through…”
Inspirational? I’ve just figured out how to live my truth and take every life experience as just that: an experience. All those experiences have pushed me forward and made me stronger as a person. My cousin often tells me that when I tell her stories about growing up.
Today, I am 29 years old, a full time preschool teacher, a published author, a passionate entrepreneur, and a fierce advocate for differences, inclusion and kindness.
This is how I choose to describe myself, because I’ve worked hard to reach this point.
I was born with what is now categorized as a craniofacial syndrome called Craniofrontonasal Syndrome. When I was born, back in the eighties, doctors told my parents that my craniofacial differences along with my cleft lip, cleft palate, and midline deformities had nothing to do with one another. Several years back I did my own research and found out that, lo and behold, there in fact was a syndrome which matched my medical history almost perfectly.
In the span of about 18 years, starting when I was only a few weeks old, I had over 12 surgeries, the most recent at the age of 22. I don’t clearly remember the earlier surgeries, however, they left me with physical and emotional scars.
My craniofacial differences were physical and did not affect my cognitive functioning. I did have some learning disabilities, but by the time I ended high school, I was in honors classes. I never let anything in life hold me back. I have always mastered skills and created my own path at my own pace and in my own way.
While they did not affect my cognitive abilities, my differences did have a rather large effect on how I felt socially, particularly in middle school, but also to some degree in high school. I had many friends but never quite felt like I “fit in”. While my family and friends accepted me with all my quirks and differences, strangers noticed my differences and their looks made it clear to me how they felt. Children would stare and laugh or make comments. Parents would pull their children away, sometimes even staring too. I always smiled and waved as a child, but as I grew older, it became evident that some people were uncomfortable with the unknown and they didn’t understand why I looked different. Of course now I devote most of my days to teaching acceptance and inclusion as well as speaking on how to interact with other people who may look different.
When I am not advocating in schools or via social media, I am helping out with organizations that share my goals, or teaching, singing and doing photography. I also enjoy spending time with my friends, my mom and my two dogs!
If I could give advice to parents that have a child with a craniofacial difference, I would tell them, first and foremost, you are not alone and there is a community of people out there waiting to embrace you and tell you it’s going to be okay! Secondly, I would advise parents to focus on what your child can do rather than what they are struggling with. This strength-based approach has a strange way of helping children accomplish their goals. I would also tell those parents that one day down the line, their children are going to look them in the eye and thank them for all they have done for them. And they will sure as heck mean it with every fiber of their being. I am continually grateful for my family–to them I say, I wouldn’t have been able to get through it without them!
When I speak to children who notice that they are different, I tell them to embrace that difference! I tell them that there will be some people in the world that may not have the most appropriate ways of interacting with them, but there is also a large community out there who will stand with them and shout their worth. Though you may feel different, you may very well have a kindness army on your side! Whatever challenges you face, you are stronger, braver and more capable than you even know. Trust that time will heal many of your wounds and build your confidence. This is your life so own it!
About Rena
Rena Rosen is the founder of ‘Art of Compassion’, a platform dedicated to creating a higher level of acceptance, appreciation and understanding of physical differences among parents and children in our community. Since creating ‘Art of Compassion’, Rena has spoken at over a dozen schools, summer camps, and organizations. She has co-authored and published the children’s book, The Courage to Be Kind, with her friend Jenny Levin, and has established a large social media following through her Facebook page. She is also involved with ‘Changing the Face of Beauty’, an organization that provides a platform for individuals with disabilities to speak out about inclusion in advertising and media.
Dr. Louisa Moats is a pioneer in the study of dyslexia and literacy. In this interview, our founder Alexandra discusses Dr. Moats’s lifetime of studying literacy and work helping generations of students. Enjoy!
When I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to run away from my existence. The simple act of conversing was filled with so much anxiety that I often chose to stay silent because it was just easier and less embarrassing. When I used to call my friends on the phone, I recorded myself onto a tape recorder (remember those?) so I didn’t have to actually speak when asking my friends’ parents to talk to my friends.
When I was in high school, I decided that a life of shyness, pain, and anxiety wasn’t a life I wanted to lead anymore. I didn’t want to run away from my fears. Instead, I decided to push straight into them and see what happened.
Recently, I read a Facebook post that was honest and vulnerable about stuttering, and it inspired me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not shy to talk about my stutter, and I definitely don’t run away from it anymore, but I also don’t really talk about either. I just assume you either take me for who I am, or you don’t, and I feel no need to discuss it further.
However, it’s always good to take a step back and reflect on the things you are grateful for. Doing so makes me realize that I am grateful that I stutter.
It may sound strange to say because most people who I know in similar situations would completely disagree with me. It’s certainly true that if I didn’t stutter, I would be a very different person, but I think that’s kinda the point. I like who I am and a large part of that is because I struggle so much when I speak. Allow me to explain.
Here are five reasons why I am grateful for my stutter:
1. I experience an ever-renewing feeling of accomplishment.
Stuttering is a daily struggle, whether I like it or not. Every day is a new decision to not let it get the better of me. It’s a battle I constantly choose to win. That feeling of accomplishment is contagious and rolls over into all my decisions and actions — mundane or serious. Knowing that you’ve already won battles today makes it not a big deal to accomplish more. It’s strengthening and empowering.
2. I am sensitive to others.
Knowing what it feels like to be on the receiving end allows me to appreciate and think about others’ struggles and successes more than I might if I didn’t stutter. I am more in tune to understanding people, and I take the time to make sure I understand what they want and how they feel.
It’s that interest in people that enables me to take the time to really think about what people want and need. This skill goes beyond the personal; it is very helpful in my professional career as an educator and as a marketer.
When creating a marketing strategy, knowing your audience is crucial. Being able to really know what they want and how to deliver it in a way that matters is what makes a campaign successful.
I might not be so good at that if I wasn’t as sensitive, and I might not be as sensitive if I didn’t stutter.
3. I never feel that old.
This one is hard to explain — but I’ll try. Carrying something with you from childhood kind of keeps you in that state of mind. In certain regards I have left that part of life behind me and forged forward, but there is still a part of the past that I hold on to. It’s the part that knows I’m not perfect, the part that knows I struggle, and the part that knows what it’s like to feel pain, frustration, and humiliation. These are parts I don’t want to let go of. These are the parts that propel me forward into always challenging myself and to appreciating others.
When you hold onto parts of your childhood, something about it keeps you in that mindset. So for me, I still always feel like my younger self, though I have accomplished and am proud of so much about my adult life.
Also, because of my stutter, there is still a part of me that feels like “don’t take yourself too seriously, focus on what’s important and don’t get caught up in stupid stresses”. One of my favorite quotes is: “Only focusing on things that matter, and not ‘adult stupidities’ keeps you feeling young at heart and in action.”
4. I am patient.
They say “Patience is a virtue” — and it definitely is. I cultivate patience for myself and patience towards others every day. Patience can often be swapped for strength. It’s not easy to wait for something. It’s not easy to be slow to anger or slow to get frustrated. My life experiences have taught me patience, and that has been a great gift.
5. I allow myself to be inspired by others.
When you have firsthand appreciation of what it’s like to struggle and succeed, it easily puts you into the shoes of others. You realize and appreciate that the road is not always easy and when things are hard, people want you to know. By the same turn, when things are good, people want to share with you. Community and networks are grown when people appreciate and respect one another. The world works because we are not all the same person.
Loretta Claiborne was the middle of seven children in a poor, single-parent family. Born partially blind and intellectually challenged, she was unable to walk or talk until age four. Eventually, though, she began to run. And before she knew it, she had crossed the finish line of twenty-six marathons, twice placing among the top one-hundred women in the Boston Marathon. She introduced President Bill Clinton at the 1995 Special Olympics World Summer Games and has won medals in dozens of its events, and also holds the current women’s record in her age group for the 5000 meters at seventeen minutes.
Today, Claiborne is a celebrated athlete who was honored in 1996 with ESPN’s ESPY Arthur Ashe Award for Courage. Her life is recounted in Walt Disney Productions The Loretta Claiborne Story (originally broadcast on ABC-TV and now on DVD) and in the biography, “In Her Stride” published by WorldScapes. Considering all of Claiborne’s achievements, these are just small steps in her life’s mission to show that persons with intellectual and physical disabilities are equal to those without.
“I figured if my story could change a person’s mind about another person, or especially a child’s mind about another child, then it was the right thing to do,” Claiborne says. Now in her mid-sixties, she recalls a time when children taunted her for being different and how the taunting turned her into an angry young woman who was expelled from high school and fired from a job. Although she loved to run and used her speed and strength to protect herself in fights against cruel classmates, she credits the Special Olympics with helping her realize that her tremendous athletic talent could be used to do good.
Claiborne was first introduced to the Special Olympics by social worker Janet McFarland (played by Emmy Award-winner Camryn Manheim in the movie). She credits McFarland as well as her family, community, educators, Special Olympics founder Eunice Kennedy Shriver and her own strong spirituality with giving her the confidence necessary to become a world-class runner. “If it weren’t for sports, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I was very angry before and sports was the arena that turned that around for me,” Claiborne says. “I got support from family, community, and God — he is the strength of all and can make anything possible.”
The Loretta Claiborne Story not only outlines Claiborne’s personal and spiritual journey, but it shows her joyful, sometimes mischievous personality. “In the simplest terms, it’s about possibility,” says executive producer Suzanne de Passe. “Loretta Claiborne’s life is uplifting and full of a sense of renewal. But it’s not humorless. It doesn’t hit you like a freight train with a somber, one-note refrain. This is also about a very engaging, funny personality.”
Running is not the only part of Claiborne’s life. She holds a 4th-degree black belt in karate, communicates in four languages, including American Sign Language, and holds three honorary doctorate degrees from Quinnipiac University, Villanova University, and York College of Pennsylvania, making her the first person with an intellectual disability known to receive such honors, according to Special Olympics Incorporated.
However, Claiborne says the most rewarding part of her life has been her involvement with the Special Olympics, and she wants to continue helping people with intellectual disabilities and physical disabilities succeed. She advises them, “Find an opportunity and seize it. Be the best you can be, and never let anyone doubt you.” Claiborne runs every day — often about five miles, even when she plans to go only three or four. Just for the joy of it, the joy of the moment. It is how she lives her life. “I don’t really look toward the future because you don’t know what tomorrow will bring,” she says. “You have to live your life for today.”
Interviewed by our Different & Able President and Founder, Alexandra Nicklas, Loretta recounts her journey from being ignored in school to becoming the voice of millions of Special Olympics athletes. Loretta shares heart-felt messages of hope and tolerance for people around the world through her amazing stories of endurance and determination. Sports have given Loretta a chance to shine and bring down barriers. “I hope that whatever comes out of my life, people feel better about people with intellectual disabilities,” Loretta says. “I don’t need my name on buildings. I don’t need my name anywhere. But I hope people think back on my life and see that everyone deserves to have the right to work, to live, to play.”
Did you know that, contrary to what many believe, dyslexia and many other learning disabilities do not affect intelligence? Rather, learning disabilities are generally processing disorders which occur in the brain. In the case of dyslexia, this means that reading fluency is compromised.
Not only is dyslexia an invisible disorder, but it also carries a lot of stigma. Children with dyslexia are often treated as if they are “lazy” or “defiant” in school, when they may just be expressing frustration with their difficulty reading in various ways. Thankfully, attitudes about dyslexia are starting to change and many people with dyslexia have achieved amazing things. One such person is Gavin Newsom, the current Governor of California.
Newsom sits down to talk about his experience with dyslexia with Cheryl Jennings.