Who Are My People?

Years ago while living in Dade County Florida I was a part of a Young Adult Ministry group. I was an active part of this group for about four years or so. We were a Catholic based group from St. Louis Catholic Church in Kendall. We would have home Masses once a month where I was one of the music leaders and we would have social events like going to the Keys for a weekend to a member's home.Any way, while attending one of these weekends the subject of finding crutches or a wheelchair for someone at church came up.Someone from the group said that maybe I could talk to "my people" and procure these items. At the time "My People" were the Young Adult Ministry group. I remember being very confused as to what he meant. He assumed I knew or was affiliated with others with physical disabilities, as if we all belonged to some kind of club. I felt insulted because I considered the young adult group as "My People" at the time. I also thought about movie stars saying have your people call my people. I didn't have a paid staff following me around.

There was another incident where the apartment manager where I lived thought I would be a good friend for her daughter because her daughter had a physical disability. I asked her if she was friends with everyone who wore glasses since she wore glasses.Just because you have a physical disability people assume you will automatically get along with someone else with a similar problem. That thinking is very flawed. If when you look at me, and my physical disability is all that you see, then you aren't seeing me.

As a young girl people either thought I couldn't do anything or ignored the obvious physical challenge and sometimes knocked me on my butt. I didn't like when that happened but I would rather get knocked on my butt for having an attitude rather than be thought of as an invalid incapable of cogent thought or unable to take care of myself. I was forever trying to prove my abilities to the physically normal world.This was especially true when it came to job hunting. I used to work temp jobs during the Summer in an office setting. I always felt I had to exceed expectations in order for them to trust in my abilities.

As I've grown older and gradually more arthritic I find being physically superhuman isn't possible anymore. The natural aging process seems more frustrating and difficult for me. My left hand has always been my right and left hand when performing manual tasks.More and more I find myself relying on the kindness of friends and sometimes strangers to perform the simplest of tasks. This has been a humbling experience for me. I have also learned that with age I don't have to keep proving myself to everyone. My friends and family accept me for who I am inside. The outside package doesn't matter as much any more because as we get older none of us can do what we did when we were younger. Aging seems to be the great  equalizer. I find that comforting and amusing.

So to answer  my own question of "Who are my people?" They are friends and family who love and accept me. I have written two poems on this subject. One is "Finding Myself? " which gives glimpses of my life in retrospect and the other is "I'm Different" which gives you look at the emotions that I felt growing up with a physical disability and tends to be on the edgy side.I find I am still having to explain myself but now I do it through my writing and painting. I want "My People" who don't know me yet to feel that there is someone they can relate to and they are not alone. That is the purpose of my book "Poetic Scribbles" and my blogs, "Tea and Reverie," and "The Front Porch Scribbler."