TALOC Special Persons Association Pre-Christmas Party Meeting


When I had officially gotten my PWD ID, I was informed to join the pre-Christmas party meeting that the barangay PWD members were about to have. To make a long story short, it was the first time ever in my life to have been with the company of special persons like myself in a sort of an official setting.

Much to my surprise, they were a bunch of great people. Some were hunchbacks. Others were amputees in crutches.  Another amputee was in a wheelchair. Most had cleft palates and polio victims. They were exactly the opposite of the pathetic, helpless souls that are supposed to be in the closet 24/7 instead of out in the sun having a great, happy time.

Well indeed God is good; He has His special way of endowing His special children with the grace of joy that’s almost surreal. I can’t wait to see them again for the big day-The Christmas party!

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ANGEL WITHOUT HANDS


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In March 6th this year 2015, Mr. Diego Rivera posted this at Facebook. A friend of mine that I have wrote something about here tagged me just today and it’s only now that I have known of this. My friend says she feels very sad for the kid for having a hard time eating (yet managed to finish the serving on her own). I would love to know this kid more and talk about her here. I hope this post will inspire more people to treat us better and to respect our rights and privileges in the society. Through this, my friends and I hope to stop discrimination, promote social awareness, and rally for equal opportunities (particularly with employment) for people with disabilities.

DISTURBING RARITY REALITY!


http://wereblog.com/12-year-old-boy-with-a-rare-condition-with-his-head-hang-180-degrees

This is one of the reasons why my blog, Special Persons are People, Too! got conceived.

It’s not much really as I have failed to maintain it thinking it was a futile attempt at publicizing what my thoughts were regarding things, other special persons, and my pathetic quest to know more about my congenital defect. I did not have the absolute clarity as to the purpose of my putting up a blog. I felt it was useless; and my thoughts were: ‘Who am kidding? What in the world was I thinking putting up a blog nobody wants to read? To think I’m not an accomplished writer! Who cares about things like this?’

After several years of hiatus, I finally found better motivations not only to keep my blog afloat, but above all, to make something out of it as an instrument in service of humanity. On top of writing and sharing my thoughts and that of others’, I shall try to promote better understanding and awareness about us as God’s special creatures, to disseminate information as to the legitimacy and morality of our rlghts and privileges as also members of the society who ought not to be discriminated, oppressed, persecuted, looked down upon, bullied, and deprived of our basic needs having been borne to a society that should respect and celebrate those who are ‘slightly different’. It’s gonna be one tough journey; but we all have to start somewhere.

I pray for wisdom and resources for whatever purpose The Universe has drafted and designed for me.

MY FRIEND LYLE


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My friend Lyle was born male. Named John Kyle Tutor, she said she just coined her nickname that way to make it sound like her other boy name. She had always been effeminate and her choice of gender was highly respected by everyone in her family.  She says she is very lucky for having the kind of family she has because, compared with others just like her, her choice was never doubted;  they just accepted her decision with not much ado.

Outside of her clan, however, was a different story.  Although her home life has been happy and easy, in the real world was the exact opposite. Not only was she mocked for being a member of the third sex; she was, worst of all, constantly bullied  for walking with a limp.

When she was yet a toddler, she was in the care of an aunt when Lyle was diagnosed with poliomyelitis (or commonly called polio), a highly infectious viral disease that targets the spinal cord affecting mainly young kids. It results in paralysis of one or both lower extremities, thus one or both legs. It is debilitating and crippling in worst cases. For my friend Lyle, vaccination was too late.

With the unwavering support of her loving family, she vowed to be oblivious of what the world has to say about her. What mattered most was the fact that she stood by her Live and Let Live philosophy:  as long as she doesn’t hurt anyone, she has also the right to live her life like everyone else, no matter what.

Lyle is a graceful spirit loved by everyone she has come to touch the lives of.  She loves to have fun, and she’s never boring to be with. She tries to be there for her nieces and nephews, and she catered to the family business alongside her parents and other siblings.

She has the knack for business. Just recently, she branched out of the family business to set up her own niche in the same food industry with a franchise– and blessings– from her family. Her career keeps her busy, but she never fails to be there for those who need her.

Through sheer will power, happy disposition, and a resilient faith, she has managed to triumph over her handicap. That’s my friend Lyle.

THE PHYSICALLY CHALLENGED: a race forgotten, misconstrued


We call them freaks. We pay money to see them make fools of themselves.

We make fun of them as if their feelings don’t count. As kids, we harass them the first

chance we get. Because we have no tolerance for the askew, the crooked, the odd and

the physically gross or absurd. We think of them as non-human. Maltreatment and

injustice are only a common form of torment. .. (in this era wherein ‘beautiful’ is

defined by the perfection as to physicality, elegance and sophistication,and largely

depends on the carats of gems on the bejeweled class of the society where the rich and

the famous choke on over dosage of fame and overwhelming wealth).

In an age and time where everything gets fixed or “converted” into

something new and beautiful (at the right price) in the ultimate quest for the

preservation of youth and for aesthetics’ sake, some of us born rather ‘differently’ seems

to have been thrown in the backstage. Amidst the clamor and din of this fast and furious

rat race, these least of our brethren have been, since time immemorial, considered

second class citizens.

 

We tend to forget that amongst us, between the living and the dead, there

thrives a breathing, feeling faction of our race that silently, in the shadows, desperately

struggles to outlive a cruel, indifferent civilization where only the best, the brightest

and the most able have the privilege to rise up and hear the bells.

What does it mean to be congenitally defective today? True, more and more

consideration for the physically disabled and/or “special people” have never been better

with the rise in growing social awareness for the physically challenged members of our

society. Special seats, lanes, marked lavatories, especially designed walkways and

tracks, custom- made prosthetics, gadgets and what-have-yous became commonplace in

our feeble attempt to show them we care and that they count.

 

Truth is, these attempts are just to quench the guilt deep inside us. We

should be convicted and hanged for enjoying so much while they suffer in the shadows,

out of the limelight, unwillingly bathing in shame at the mercy of the bonds of

insecurity, hopelessness, envy and hate-forever stuck, forever needy and forever

irrelevant and useless. We should be fined and punished for the awesome feeling after a

nature trail hike where we got the chance to bask in the glory of seeing the world from a

different light and being able to fully experience all of its wonders. We should be

tortured and made to suffer for the awesome sights and sounds that travel makes

possible.

 

In the end, nothing can ever make up or suffice even, for the feelings of

deprivations and the pain and suffering of the physically unfortunate. These are beyond

reimbursement. Nothing can ever make up for the torment, grief and the sorrow that

inability and disability gift wraps them with at birth.

 

But everything gets to be alright

when we are loved. The world seems better, brighter. To quote anew, LOVE is the KEY.