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.



When Jasmine was born, everybody gave thanks for the wonderful gift of a new child in

the family. Like any other baby, she was cherubic and her smile never failed to warm the

heart.  She was the center of attention; a princess everyone adored and just can’t get

enough of.  So cute and cuddly!

When music emanates from the family radio, Jasmine gets carried away.  Music would signal a

moment of jolly good time-full of laughter and merriment. When Jasmine dances with

the music, (oh how good she can move- so flexible, so in time with the beat, so

inventive for moves) she’s awesome.  Music and dancing takes her to planes and

dimensions she alone understands. She’s taken by the music like a feather taken by

the soft wind. Time stops when she hears music or dances with it. Almost surreal,

almost sublime.

Jasmine’s congenital anomaly is rather chromosomal in nature. Persons with Down

Syndrome may vary in levels and thus their personalities differ.

The realization that a child is suffering from Down Syndrome can be devastating to the

parents. The best way to contend with it, is to accept it and give the child all the love,

care and understanding more than doubly afforded the typical child.

It has been observed and well-studied, that the majority of congenitally defective

individuals are very sensitive people. They are easily provoked, and the least

unintentional action may be easily taken as a threat or intimidation. They can

exaggerate reactions deliberately or without any much thought.

Persons afflicted with Down Syndrome, however, are mostly quiet, contented and

extremely happy. For Jasmine’s parents, they didn’t mind at all that their daughter was

different. They were proud of her in fact. She is sweet, loving, kind, graceful, easy and

above all, always happy. They love her as she is; they take her everywhere; people are

fond of her jovial, peaceful nature; and her being happy 99% of the time is very


Being 18 years old now, Jasmine started to menstruate at 13, like any other girl. It was a

mess at first but later she had learned how to take care of herself when it comes every

month. She wouldn’t even bother anyone for a napkin; she buys it herself and fends for

her well-being during the period.

She is also amazingly more independent of others than most persons like her. She takes

a bath by herself, takes care of her baby nephews and nieces, sets the table and eats by

herself, and even washes the dishes and throws away the garbage and does all other simple

house chores.

Antics cannot be avoided. For these people, they never run out of silly, cute, and odd

mischiefs. Keys are not where they are anymore, the food disappears and appears on

the table; wallets, all sorts, are in the second drawer of her cabinet; slippers don’t have

their pairs anymore, and a bear hug, a quick kiss or sudden pat in the backs can startle

members of the family; and a huge, warm, hearty laughing streak would ensue for sure.

For Jasmine, her circumstances are the most ideal for someone like her. She can be

considered lucky-particularly in this part of the world. For, her lifetime is one with a

lot of love and understanding; one that has learned how it is to be truly loved in spite

of what she  ‘happened’ to be.


I’m a disabled person, handicapped;  a freak, an odd one.  Call me anything but normal, because I’m not like you at all.

You see, I walk with a limp, and forever can never wear fancy footwear.  And that means stylish, elegant clothes are allergic to me.  What a shame!  But, who cares?  It’s not the end of the world, or something.  Fact is, it’s not my fault I was born with half of my left foot missing.

Birth defects may be mental or physical.  The most common and the most alarming I think, is Congenital Heart Disease. But I won’t talk about that for now.

Most physical defects are easily corrected, especially in childhood.  Corrective and plastic surgery can fix the problem;  gadgets, and other what-have-you’s can aide the handicapped.  With breakthroughs in Medical Science and advances in technology, innovations have tremendously helped the physically challenged lead better lives.

Anyway, growing up with a physical defect haven’t been easy for me.  I know firsthand how it is to grow up with something that makes you different from the rest.  It’s like taboo;  it’s there, it exists; yet, it’s not something that you’re supposed to talk about. Everyday was a struggle; for it meant I had to be out of the house to face people, and limp, limp, limp.

I was miserable each waking hour; I hated everything and everyone especially my parents, whom I blamed for my misfortune. As much as possible, I avoided people.  I was too ashamed, inferior, insecure and depressed to be mingling with the “normal” ones.  I remember crying a lot at night in self-pity, feeling sorry for my circumstances .

We’ve always been branded as freaks, abnormal, handicapped, disabled, scums of the Earth, scourges from the gods, aliens, even.  Heaven knows how much that hurts, the branding.  Mockery, discrimination, and social stigma take a great toll on our emotional health. Worst of all, we have to live with the “curse”.  It was like a battle for survival that you know you’d never be able to win.

That was then, more than 20 years ago.

For now, I’m starting to embrace myself for what I was, what I am now, and what I am becoming. I now consider my physical anomaly a boon, instead of a bane. I don’t care what other people may think of me; I don’t get affected by that, or by anything trivial, anymore.

And I’m proud to be finally heading somewhere.