Aaron Philip - This Kid Can Fly: Its About Ability (NOT Disability)

I dedicate this book to everyone with and without a disability who wants to step up, be bold and creative, and make change in the world.
A.P.

CONTENTS

So youre probably wondering: Who is this kid writing his memoir?

Arent only old people supposed to do this? Or maybe you read the title and thought: Aha! This kid invented a jet pack and now Ill learn his secrets! Nope, sorry. Although, I wish! (Maybe thatll be my next book.)

As for this book, one of the reasons I wrote it is because Im a kid with CP and I get around in a wheelchair. Think about it: When was the last time you saw somebody, young or old, in a wheelchair? On the street? In a store? In your school? How many people do you know who practically live in wheelchairs? If youre like most people, youre probably scratching your head and thinking, er, um...

And Im here to help you with that. If you keep reading this book youll get to know a lot about me, then youll be able to sayyeah! I do know at least one guy in a chair. Plus, Im betting that youll discover that while our lives might be superdifferent in some ways, we have a lot in common, too....

Thanks for reading.

Welcome to Aaronland.

Aaron, its OK to be yourself!

That was a huge moment for mea real news flash in my brain as I rolled out of an office building in Lower Manhattan. Up on its tenth floor, in a humongous open space, I had given a talk about my life, my hopes, my dreams. I had welcomed close to two hundred people into Aaronland.

The date was October 29, 2013. Twelve-year-old me had just rocked it at Tumblr!

This was not my first time at Tumblrs HQ. A couple of months earlier I had the incredible honor of having a one on one with Tumblrs creator, the awesome David Karp.

I couldnt believe that this rich and famous and brilliant man could have any interest in me. I wasnt rich. I wasnt famous. True, I had some skills as an illustrator but I was a long way from brilliant. Yet, to my utter amazement, when David Karp met with me in June 2013 he seemed genuinely interested in me and my Tumblr blog. I think he was touched to see how I was using his creation. Near the end of our meeting in his really cool office, it was like something out of a movie: Karp invited me backthis time to speak to his entire staff.

Saying yes was easy, but as the date got closer and closer the more insanely nervous I became. It wasnt the first time I had addressed a group of grown-ups. But this was so different.

The audience was gonna be way bigger, I knew. Plus, I idolized David Karp. I worried about messing up, letting him down. Even scarier, I knew Id be videotaped because Natalie Morales from the Today show was going to be there. What if I bombed in front of her, in front of David Karp, in front of his coders and designers and engineersin front of the entire universe? I was so nervous.

So nervouseven though I prepared my presentation and practically memorized it.

So nervouseven though I role-played with Deb Fisher, one of my occupational therapists.

On that October day, instead of being in school, I was on my way to Tumblrs HQ, and I was a wreck, feeling so unsure of myself. Then came the moment when I rolled up to the front of that humongous room. Ten thousand maniac butterflies invaded my stomach. As David Karp introduced me, those butterflies partied hard. Then, in five, four, three, two

I wasnt long into my presentation when those butterflies went on their way.

I forgot about the cameras.

I forgot about how big the audience was.

I forgot that I was addressing some of the most creative and innovative people on the planet.

I simply had my say. Let myself be myself. I even went off script a couple of times.

After my presentation and a Q&Athe fastest thirty-something minutes of my lifeI was overwhelmed by the applause. It felt so amazing to have all those eyes on me. I felt amazing. I also felt

Creative.

Ecstatic.

Shocked.

Lucky.

Proud.

Most of all, I felt validated. Nobody was looking past me. Nobody was looking through me. Nobody was trying to avoid eye contact with me or making me feel like I made them uncomfortable, like I was some alien being.

My presentation included a short video about snippets of my life. For the soundtrack I had picked Katy Perrys Roar because its about the way I want to feel when Im in school, when Im out on the street, when Im making art, when Im dreaming.

When I rocked it at Tumblr I felt like I had roared. Like I was a fighter. Like I was a champion. Like I could continue to roareven fly!despite the challenges I face all the time.

I weighed only two-and-a-half pounds when I arrived on the scene two months early in a place radically different from where I live now: gritty New York City.

I was born in a place a lot more laid-back, and cool in its own way. There are mango, calabash, and tamarind trees, and wild animals like fallow deer, loggerhead turtles, lizards, bats, and racer snakes. Barracudas lurk in turquoise water so clear and perfect it almost looks fake. During the day you might see pelicans, egrets, and ospreys. At night you can hear the mad music of tree frogs and cicadas. Its a place with 365 peachy-pink-sand beachesone for each day of the year, as the saying goes. (Dont ask about leap year.)

If youve guessed that I was born in the Caribbeanyou guessed right! On March 15, 2001, I, Aaron Rorie Petrone Philip, was born in St. Johns, the capital of Antigua and Barbuda.

My first bed was an incubator because of my underdeveloped lungs. Mom, very sick herself, was at the hospital all day every day, rooting for me. Dad checked in on me once or twice during the day, then returned and stayed in the evenings until the hospital made him and Mom go home.

After two months of that, I was finally strong enough for my parents, Petrone and Lydia Philip, to take me, their one and only, home. There, theyd have to cut newborn Pampers in half just to fit me. Thats how tiny I was.

Home was about twenty miles southeast of St. Johns, in the fishing village of Seatons, where Mom and Dad grew up. Our beautiful home sat on nearly a half acre of land that had a bunch of trees, like palm, lemon, lime, pomegranate, and soursop with its prickly green fruit. Besides the fruit trees, we always had a big bounty from Moms garden. During the rainy season (SeptemberNovember) our huge backyard was a veggie wonderlandMom grew everything from cucumbers and corn to pumpkin and antrobers (aka eggplant).

Though I didnt have a strong start, my parents kept believing that Id catch up and become a robust baby boy, but I didnt. The fact that something was wrong with me really hit home one evening in November 2001. Returning from the babysitter, Mom and Dad held my hands, coaxing me to walk up the front steps. Instead of cooperating, I kept my left leg hovering above the ground. When I tried to put my foot down, I couldntnot without crying out in wild pain.

Mom and Dad rushed me to the emergency room, where a pediatrician, stumped, referred them to an orthopedic doctor. I wound up having physical therapy (PT), mostly the stretching and massaging of my legs, for an hour a week. It was painful. Worse, it didnt work. No amount of stretching could change the scary things that were happening to me. I was morphing.

One-year-old me at my home in Antigua

Even after a year of therapy, my left side was folded, my neck was jammed into my left shoulder, my limbs were pushed together and I became small, squinched in.