No one knew I was born disabled. Though I could be resentful of the years that cost me and the permanent damage now done, I can understand that noticing a rare genetic disorder was less important than making sure I was breathing to the doctors and nurses at the hospital where I was born, though it would turn out that that too was caused by my mother having the same disorder. As a child, I was uncoordinated, and things that were easy for kids my age to do were nearly impossible for me. My parents and teachers knew that I was autistic, so they attributed my inability to engage in team sports to that. When I was nine, I developed arthritis in my knees from frequent subluxations and could no longer walk without pain. Gym teachers thought I was being dramatic, and teachers rolled their eyes at my refusal to kneel on the floor. When I was fifteen, I got sick. Really sick. Catching COVID-19 in March of 2020, before it had mutated in the US, weakened my immune system. I had an active infection of the EBV-mono- for the next two years. It took three-fourths of that time until anyone realized that I was not just being lazy and tested me for EBV. By then, I had bigger issues, as both EBV, family history, and my genetic disorder made me susceptible to autoimmune diseases. Another two years after I developed autoimmune neuropathy, a skin biopsy discovered the full extent of the damage, and I was tested for autoantibodies. The diseases I've had in my life, whether acquired or genetic, made it nearly impossible to participate in a normal education. Having to study for a chemistry test and re-learning how to walk with one leg were both difficult for me on their own, let alone when I had to do them at the same time. I missed school, with birth defects--and the surgeries to fix them--and viruses threatening my life. I had to figure out how to lean my forearm crutches against desks so they wouldn't fall and disrupt my classes. I ended up choosing to attend the University of Denver, both for their engineering program and their disability resources. Though institutional scholarships and federal aid help pay for it, tuition not covered places a large burden on me and my family, especially since my mom is a single mother with another child, my sixteen-year-old brother, to take care of.

I grew up on closed captioning. It was hard for people to understand why I needed captions on when watching a show or movie. I'm not hard of hearing or deaf; my hearing is above average. Those who knew me, though, knew that I needed them on because I could not understand what people were saying. Sometimes, I thought I was being messed with or hearing another language. It wasn't until high school, when my immune system started attacking my nerves, that anyone thought it was a real issue. As years have gone on, people have been more understanding. Maybe because instead of seeing a nine-year-old in seemingly perfect health, they see a nineteen-year-old paralyzed in one leg and reliant on forearm crutches to get around. Teachers started turning on auto-transcription in classes without me having to ask, and people no longer complain when I turn on captions during movie nights. In high school, taking classes on Zoom was especially bad because of the interference, delays, and videos freezing. Newer technology, like automatic transcriptions, was implemented near the end of my second school year with the COVID-19 pandemic, and it was astronomically different. Though I still struggled with isolation, distractions, and being in my home nearly 24/7 with my younger brother, being able to participate in class, answer questions, and engage in group discussions was life-changing. By my senior year, I was participating more in class than I had in my life. Enjoying classes made it easier to make friends, and through them, I was able to engage in extracurriculars, with my favorite being technical theater. Having something to do, especially in a tight-knit community like the theater department, made me excel more in my social life. I joined clubs, which I was previously not confident enough to do, and ended up leading one in my senior year. The university I attend, the University of Denver, has also helped me with my audio processing issues by letting me record lecture audio and giving me access to their transcription software. This software has let me study after lectures, as I find it very difficult to figure out what people are saying and take notes on nodal analysis, Taylor series, or CAD systems. It has also given me more free time, time I spend reading, meeting with friends, or on personal projects, because I no longer have to attempt to teach myself from the snippets I understood during class. I chose to major in electrical engineering because I believe that there is a way to make everyday life more accessible through technology. My first project in college was designing a prototype of a wrist guard to help the elderly and those with bleeding disorders interact with overly friendly dogs. Though you could tell four first-year engineering students made it, it was functional enough to make me confident that I could, someday, be responsible for creating something that changes lives.