I came to the Mustard Seed communities during the summer of my sophomore year thinking that I knew everything there is to know about disability. I had lost complete function of my right shoulder when I was 7 years old, and it felt as if I had lost a family member. Losing part of a limb is no joke, and I thought that my experiences would help me understand the struggle of the children at Mustard Seed and make a difference in their life.
My experiences were no doubt difficult, but I came to realize that they were much different that of the residents of Mustard Seed. In addition to losing most of their mobility, they had lost the entirety of their family as well, with their parents abandoning them at a young age. While I had access to expensive physical therapy 6 days a week, these children felt lucky to see a pediatric doctor once a year. Children with cerebral palsey who would have had the capacity to walk if they had access to physical therapy remain in a wheelchair for the rest of their lives. Many of the individuals with mobility restrictions could not speak, and I was scared to imagine the pain of being unable to ask for water in the hot Jamaican sun.
For the rest of my trip, I struggled to make connections with the residents past wheeling them around or drawing with them. I thought that our shared experience with disability would bring us together; instead, I felt like an imposter, wondering why it was me who received the advanced medical treatment rather than them.
The following school year, I came across an NBC article about 59 disabled kids in Haiti fleeing to the Mustard Seed Communities. I remembered the already small living quarters at Mustard Seed, and wondered how they would fit in 59 more children. Over the next six months, I went on a fundraising campaign, making Neurostronger a partner organization with Apple and Google, taking daily calls with donors, and raising 10,000 dollars to build a sanctuary for these children at Jacobs Ladder, a Mustard Seed Location.
My fundraising campaign made me realize that although I had no idea how to interact with the Mustard Seed children, I cared deeply about them and wanted to see them thrive. I went back to Mustard Seed during the summer of my Junior year, this time with no expectations of trying to use my experience to connect with them. All I wanted was to show the children that they mattered to me; for one week, I wanted them to feel as though I was their family.
I know that my short time at Mustard Seed will not make a massive difference on these children's lives, but I do know that the choices I make because of my experience there (like my fundraising), will make a difference. I hope to continue my fundraising through Neurostronger next year, where my goal is to raise $20,000 for Mustard Seed for a new physical therapy center.
Rather than questioning why I got medical treatment instead of these children, I use my platform to advocate for their needs.
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