books / faith / kids with disabilities

book review: a different kind of cheerleader

• by kerri

There are a few things I have opinions on—a lot of the time I just shut up, but sometimes I get argumentative, and sometimes I get argumentative about my opinions with people on Twitter. We are usually quite civil about it, but this is the first time I ended up reviewing a book out of the scenario. I connected with author Lira Brannon last week—connected is a nice term, in retrospect, I did interrogate her a bit about the “inspirational” nature of her book A Different Kind of Cheerleader, and the type of “inspirational”-ism that was implied, as the book is both centred around disability and Christianity. As I said on Twitter, “Disability isn’t inspiration: it’s life”. Lira, however, dealt with my interrogation well, and when I asked if I could receive an electronic copy of the book for free in exchange for a review on my blog, she agreed and quickly hooked me up with a Kindle download code.

Trigger warning: The later aspects of this review mention self-harm and suicide.

Three-sentence summary: 
The main character, Tansy, is a thirteen-year-old with a spinal cord injury [SCI] from a skateboarding accident in her childhood. Now a paraplegic, Tansy has all but abandoned the dream she and her best friend share of successfully qualifying for their junior-high cheerleading squad. As she starts junior high, she is introduced to a variety of new people who change her perceptions about what she believes she is capable of—and what she thinks about God, and who she was created to be, and to become.

Target age:
I’d throw this one in the 10 to 15 age-range—but, I personally enjoy teen fiction, so go with what works for you/the kid you’re trying to buy a book for.

Thoughts:
Overall, while the core aspects of the plot were fairly predictable, there were enough twists in the core of it to keep me interested and guessing—I started reading the book late Thursday evening, kept going until 1:30 AM, and finished it off the next morning [and people, my Concerta would have worn off at 11:30 or so—it was the book keeping me going].

While the core aspects of the book include Tansy’s desire to become a cheerleader independent of her disability, the author paints a very clear picture of the rest of Tansy’s life: starting at a new school and dealing with how her teachers respond to a student using a wheelchair (i.e. the typical ‘I can’t walk, but I can hear’); Tansy’s feelings towards her disability (anger, resentment, and eventually acceptance); responding to how her friends perceive her disability; relationships with her mother, brother, friends, physical therapist; and how her SCI and using a wheelchair pose additional contemplations within the already complicated life of an adolescent trying to figure out her place in the world.

Though I slated the book for younger ages, there are some themes including self-injury, attempted suicide, and suicidal ideation present in the book that may be more suitable for slightly older readers. The mentions of these aspects are brief, however, they were a source of confusion for me as I didn’t think there was enough detail preceding or explaining the circumstances in which Tansy’s acquaintance from rehab, Meg, was hospitalized following a suicide attempt (this may require a re-read on my part). While not comorbid, I appreciated that the author intentionally mentioned the mental health aspects associated with living with a disability and/or following a traumatic injury.

The storyline brings Tansy to interact with a variety of people who become a part of the bigger story unfolding—pressures from different people lead her different directions: some into finding the confidence to try out for cheer, others who cross her path in unexpected ways that help teach her about God—and through these conversations, more about the people around her. While some characters seemed slightly out-of-place [i.e. I don’t care if he’s the coach’s son, why the heck is the youth pastor hanging out in the middle school gym and at cheer tryouts all the time?], for the most part, the interaction of the themes surrounding Tansy’s daily life learning to more fully coexist with her disability, and the journey towards believing in God, was well structured.

I thought, despite all the #inspiration[al] tags, that overall the author did a decent job at not sensationalizing Tansy’s accomplishments, and allowing her to both succeed and screw up as much as a character without a disability would have, with a few exceptions of circumstances that wouldn’t have arisen if not for Tansy’s disability […which obviously is realistic]. In terms of the realism of integrating Tansy into the cheer team, I [being an adapted physical activity nerd] felt that Lira addressed the types of “wheelchair tricks” Tansy was able to learn well, but would have enjoyed reading more about how she became a true team member and not just a possible story of oh you’re in a wheelchair, we’ll let you on the team even though you blah blah blah through more concrete examples of how she used her chair as an asset and not an inspiration–such as how she would be integrated into team and more gymnastic-type and how existing routines were adapted. But, like I said, I’m a nerd that way.

Reading Guide:
A question guide is provided in the back of the book, which prompts the reader [or an educator or youth leader, etc.] to reflect on what they’ve read. The questions are evenly distributed between faith, friends, family, and Tansy’s disability. Though I never use reading guides on my own [because, what is this, school?], it’s definitely a nice bonus feature.

Recommendation:
A Different Kind of Cheerleader is geared towards older-school aged kids and younger-teens—an easily approachable read, with enough plot twists and serious/more mature themes to keep older readers engaged Cheerleader would be a great way to approach the topic of disability in a variety of settings. As both faith and disability are core-topics [and often very confusing], I’d recommend younger kids (under 12) be supported through reading this book, by a parent, mentor or educator, to best facilitate learning and enabling kids to ask questions and form a better understanding of their own thoughts on both core themes.

Final thoughts:
A Different Kind of Cheerleader is an approachable and engaging book for readers in their younger teens [and, if you’re me, early twenties], presenting a variety of opportunities for critical thought on faith and disability. With multiple quick unexpected turns in the plot, Cheerleader is easy to get lost in for a few hours, and would be a suitable way to begin a discussion on teens’ thoughts on what it means to live with a disability—and hopefully, one that can help realistically assist them in contemplating how to restructure their thoughts on a variety of different topics.

A Different Kind of Cheerleader can be found on Amazon. You can learn more about Lira on her website, and through connecting with her on Twitter and Facebook.

Disclosure: I received a free electronic copy of the book, A Different Kind of Cheerleader, from the author, Lira Brannon, which I offered to review prior to finalizing the agreement. I was under no obligation to provide a favourable review.

ADHD + learning disabilities / being a student / friends / kinesiology / life

graduation: the start of a new chapter.

• by kerri

i crossed a line five years in the making
that the biggest eraser can’t clear.

–this is the sweetest little song, butch walker. 

 
 Photo credit to Amber

Five years, and far more stories than I would have ever imagined.
Today, I close this chapter in the story and move on to the next one, with the storyline embedded deep within me.
 
These five years are worth far more than a piece of paper and these pictures. The last five years are the story, the experiences, the process. And this day, this piece of paper may symbolize that I can put the things I know onto papers and into practice, but only to an extent.
The degree, Bachelor of Physical and Health Education, implies much about what I have learned outside of myself: in no way can those six words even begin to indicate what I learned inside myself and what I—and those around me sharing this story–changed inside myself. And that the change inside me is far more crucial to my ability to connect with others than most things I could ever be assessed on.
 
The last five years are not about this moment: they are about the collection moments that lead me here.

connect the dots there is a picture in these lines
my favourite parts of life are in the nights of better sleep i never find.
but even if i don’t decide to chase my dreams, i won’t throw them away
[…] i won’t forget everything i wen through to get here
but i haven’t decided if here is quite where i belong.
—where i belong, farewell fighter
 
 
They are about the process.
 
 
 
The people.
 
 
 
 
 
Photo credit to Becki
 
 
 
The story.
 
 
And what’s ahead.
 
Note: I’ll be updating this post with more pictures/quotes over the next few days… Check back :].
ADHD + learning disabilities / friends / guest posts

guest post! | kat’s story – neurodiversity: dyspraxia edition

• by kerri

Though I lacked a formal term in my lexicon, the concept of “neurodiversity” (though somewhat controversial) is one that I’ve appreciated since long before my own ADHD/LD diagnosis. Typically, neurodiversity is seen as a concept that seeks to portray a variety of neurologically based “disorders” simply as variations—these include ADHD, autism spectrum disorders and Tourette syndrome, as well as specific learning disabilities. Another condition under the umbrella is dyspraxia—one that is probably less generally understood than several others on the list. 

I connected with Katherine (whom I always refer to, in my head and out loud, as Kat) several years ago—we connected initially over asthma, but that’s a rarer discussion topic at this point! More often, we’re planning adventures, spending several hours on Skype telling stories, discussing school, or making mug cake (yes, we made mug cake together on Skype—the level of coaching I required was ridiculous, and Kat’s a good person who didn’t make fun of me—too much :).]

Today, Kat is sharing her perspective as an adult with dyspraxia—a developmental delay affecting motor coordination. Dyspraxia is seldom discussed in the context of adulthood, so I’m excited to have Kat here today!

———-

Hello, my name is Katherine and…

I am a computer programmer.

I am learning American Sign Language.

I am a knitter.

I am a book worm.

I am a condo owner.

I am a Cardinals baseball fan.

I am dyspraxic.

My story of life as a grown up is much the same as any other 25 year old female living in the midwestern United States. I do exciting things like go to work, cook dinner, hang out with friends, and explore diverse and varied interests. However, my brain and I occupy a different motor skills space than yours most likely does. In the early/mid 90’s when I was a preschooler/grade schooler I had motor skill developmental delays. At the time the doctors called it dysfunctional/disordered motor planning, at the time new politically correct version of “clumsy child syndrome” which is now commonly know as dyspraxia. Basically my neurons don’t always connect my muscles to my brain well. Sometimes the message gets through and my body works just fine, other times it gets lost along the way. My writing skills are slow, painful, and took exceedingly long to develop. PE was my least favorite class ever; they always passed me but noted a need for improvement of coordination in activities like running, skipping, and jump rope.

In some ways getting to high school, college, and now the “real world” is easier. I’m no longer graded on my penmanship, and no one expects me to write in cursive. Nor does socialization involve jumping double dutch, although walking in heels is equally perilous. The majority of my work and other written communication is keyed out on a qwerty keyboard of some sort. While learning to type was a challenge initially I’ve taken to keying by touch much better than I ever had to writing. You won’t hear many stories like mine because I’m from the US, seemingly few dyspraxics exist Stateside (UK seems to have cornered the market). Also much more common in males for whatever reason. I’m a grown adult who has found a successful contributory place in society.

The voice of adults with developmental delays is seemingly nonexistent. Not because we aren’t here, and no, we didn’t outgrow it. Turning 18, 21 or any other arbitrary age doesn’t magically catch you up to your peers. Some of it is that we’ve learned how to adapt our lifestyles to avoid skills we haven’t mastered. My cooking has never been dinner party elegant but it tastes just dandy. I’ve found cooking implements that don’t require lots of coordination to work (OXO make some real winners at least for me). I drive a stick shift car of the same brand as i first learned on (so it has the same sized gear box with a clutch that “grabs” similarly). If I’m tired or have a mentally stimulating day ahead of me I don’t drive. Quite simply, while I can drive it takes quite a bit of mental concentration to drive, follow the assigned route and otherwise be attentive to my surroundings. Somedays this is more than I should really take on. I know my limits and live close to a transit loop. My life looks like that of the neurotypical adult because pick surroundings and activities that suit my needs and abilities.

Life is learning and growing and changing the world around you to make it work. Taking it in stride when you trip over your own feet stone cold sober in trainers.

—–

Kat has a degree in computer science and works as a programmer—she is pursuing American Sign Language as a personal interest (but in the very ambitious form of evening university classes—and watching the videos for my Disability Studies class in the Fall). Kat’s “diverse and varied interests” include several different fitness pursuits (running, cycling, swimming . . . ahem, triathlon :] . . .), making me jealous as she goes to Chicago, and crafty stuff like knitting and—though, I think this has culminated—having all sorts of condo do-it-yourself shenanigans.  

Kat can be found on Twitter as @kat314159 […yes. That is pi there. No, not that kind of pie].

life / music / quotes

twenty two: spinning.

• by kerri

and i scratched these words into a black notebook…

last straw, jack’s mannequin

There are so many unexpected ironies included in those lyrics with what was to come—foreshadowing.
i’m one year older now since the last time I saw you in case you wanna know, i’m about to say what i’m up to.
first of all i’m a sluggard, moving slow in a clumsy way
some peace of mind is what i want, but that will be the day.
i’ve been going without fault for so long, and this must end
running round in circles, i’ve been so far from myself
searching for the energy, and the time to make a change
to make a change in my life, instead of watching it pass by
do something now while i’m alive
 
i’m twenty-two, don’t know what i’m supposed to do
or how to be, to get some more out of me
i’m twenty-two, so far away from all my dreams
i’m twenty-two, twenty-two–feeling blue
 
[…]
afraid that i will be weak forever
i can’t stay in this shape any longer
my life’s just another cliche
 
twenty-two, millencolin
As I did of 2013 when 2014 started, I refuse to recap my twenty-second year: It was important, it changed me, but that change did not occur through circumstances I chose. It was important to me—it still is important to me—to share those stories, to be transparent, for a variety of reasons. Among the most important, though, can be summarized concisely in my friend Jay’s words: “We cannot control our circumstances, only our responses to them”.

i’m keeping quiet until the phone stops ringing  lately it’s hard to disconnect, i just want something real i’ll find my words if i can just stop thinking the room is spinning, i have got no choice be patient, i am getting to the point… 

spinning, jack’s mannequin

I grew, I came out on top with a few more scars inside me.
you watched that poor girl waste the best years of her life and i’ll be damned if i am going out i will not go out that way.
last straw, jack’s mannequin.
I’m alive and determined to make this count.

i can’t remember when the earth turned slowly so i just waited with the lights turned out again i lost my place, but i can’t stop this story 

Tomorrow, I turn twenty-three.
i keep forgetting when the earth turned slowly so i just waited till the lights come on again i lost my place but i can’t stop this story i found my way, but until then i’m only spinning 
spinning, jack’s mannequin.
advocacy / asthma / badassmatics / friends / health + fitness / life / wellness

a year ago today

• by kerri

A year ago today

I surfaced at work after being gone for over a week because I couldn’t move. I’d been getting sicker and sicker for months and I couldn’t keep up anymore.

I went back to school to start Spring term, and right before class got a call from my doctor’s office telling me I needed to go to the ER because my hemoglobin was 54.

Today marks a year since my first blood transfusion of 2013—three units from amazing donors that kept me alive, to be followed by another seven in the next four months.

it’s been a bombs and guns and fire kind of season
oh, i need a reason for all of my bleeding tonight.
i’m going to break it out, i’m going to make a scene if i’m right

Day before I got sent to the ER. Note that there’s basically no colour in my face/lips. [I felt like I had energy, but in reality my body probably had just adjusted to being super depleted of hemoglobin that I was able to sit up again.]

A year ago yesterday.

 

World Asthma Day 2013 [May 7th] 365 days ago today.

About 36 hours later, after three units of blood and a bunch of saline.

(And the friggen Lasix. I still don’t understand this combination of saline and Lasix.)

Yesterday.

let the revival rattle me
and open my eyes
it’s so good.
revival, the rocket summer

And today—365 days later.

World Asthma Day 2014. Wearing the same t-shirt I got my mom to bring to the hospital before heading to work early in the morning.

Donald, Mike, Sam and I gave out over a hundred Asthma Society of Canada resources for World Asthma Day.

…Then went to Wal-Mart with the intention of playing Marco Polo. Because that’s badass, right?

I thought about where I was this time last year today—purposefully at some times, fleetingly at others.

Thankful that it won’t be every year that these two days are the same day so I can reflect on each for its own reason. Thankful for the people who choose to spend their time with me—the people who stick by me.

Simply: thankful I’m still alive.