Transcriber: Rhonda Jacobs Reviewer: Tanya Cushman
It was September of 2011 when I sat in the yellow room
with walls full of college brochures and flyers.
I sat in front of the computer
while staff helped other students in other parts of the room.
I began to fill out the UC application
and referred to a thick binder I had in front of me.
It had my transcripts, volunteer hours, awards and test scores.
As I fill everything out,
I began to check all of the boxes that pertain to me and my identities.
While scrolling,
I check the box for first generation Chicano Latino, woman
and my socioeconomic status.
One thing I notice, though,
is that my ability status wasn't asked in that category.
I started thinking about how schools would find out about my disability.
They had to find out somehow; I need resources and guidance.
I worried about how I would navigate campus and live on my own.
My diverse ability,
a term used to embrace talents and abilities
rather than to highlight inabilities,
was not recognized as a form of identity
mainly because people simply view it
as an unfortunate situation that people go through.
Although my other identities were accounted for
because of the boxes that I checked,
I realized my other identity as a person with a diverse ability was being ignored.
It was in this moment when I realized
that not all intersectionalities are being accounted for,
and in doing so, we prevent certain people from thriving.
To me, intersectionality boils down to acknowledging
all of the identities that make up a person together
rather than independently.
Because of my identity as a diversable person
was not being accounted for,
I had a lot of words of what my life was going to look like
for the next four years.
Now, I'm not ignoring my other identities.
I do identify
as a first generation, low income, Latina woman with a diverse ability.
Today though, I'd like to share with you my journey at UCI
through my diverse ability
and how much it has taught me
about the importance of acknowledging intersectionalities.
My first year was a roller coaster of emotions.
I feared not having what it takes to graduate from UCI
because of my background as a low income Latina,
but nevertheless, I try to make the best of it.
I was also excited about starting my life.
This excitement quickly turned into fear
when I realized that I was having a hard time navigating through campus.
I had a hard time carrying my tray with food at Commons,
our dining hall,
and the excruciating pain I felt on my back when I did laundry
made me want to drop out.
The worst was when I would trip on cracks on the floors,
especially walking uphill,
and the pain I felt on my knee every time I would reopen the wound -
it really made me want to drop out.
Until that point,
my disability had never gotten in the way of anything that I wanted to accomplish.
I never thought I'd even make it into a UC,
and now my standing was being jeopardized because of my diverse ability.
It wasn't until the organization that I'm a member of back home,
called Kid City Hope Place -
which has nothing to do with helping people with diverse abilities -
was able to outreach to their networks
and found a power scooter that a family was willing to donate.
This was the year I began advocating for the diversable community,
thanks to the help of upperclassman mentors.
It was because of them that I realized the power of student voices,
and I ended that year in hopeful terms of what the future could bring.
Now, despite the challenges I faced my first year,
my second year has actually been the worst year of my undergraduate career.
School at that point was very demanding,
and I didn't realize I was experiencing mental health problems
until much later in the year.
I was on academic probation, and my living conditions were a challenge.
I hated my daily commute on my scooter to campus,
which was approximately one and a half miles,
but when it was cold and raining, that's when the struggle was real.
Unfortunately, I couldn't ride the shuttles
because of the inaccessibility with their ramps
and the size of my power scooter
being too big.
It's through these struggles that I became more aware of ableism,
which is the way society is structured to favor able-bodied people,
therefore excluding those with diverse abilities.
Not only is it reflected in our physical environment
but also in our interactions with those with diverse abilities.
It's reflective in the way people interact towards me.
I had people joke around
and ask me for a ride on my scooter while commuting home,
and it's remarks like these that affected my whole week.
I had a very hard time pulling through that year.
Before my third year even started,
I had doubts of returning to UCI
since I wasn't having a favorable experience.
I had a hard time finding affordable and accessible housing.
And when I was given my apartment, it had a six-inch front doorstep.
It basically served as a wall for a wheelchair.
Regardless of that, I made it work and I returned.
The first week, while at an event at our gym,
I had the pleasant experience of hearing a girl riding the elevator with me
as she questioned the existence of an elevator at the gym,
since, in her words, the point of the gym was to workout and take the stairs.
And I guess if you can't take the stairs, you don't have the ability to work out.
She said this all while she was inside of the elevator
while watching me in there with my crutch.
At that point, I wonder what helped me decide to return,
and I realized it was the community that I had here.
It was with their help that I began to see changes on campus.
Together, we worked on the Bus Love referendum
that has increased the cart services offered by the Disability Service Center.
I've also been invited to give workshops on ableism all throughout campus.
I even auditioned to give a TEDxUCIrvine talk,
and we all know how that turned out.
(Laughter)
I still have some time here, though,
and I know I can do more for the diversable community.
The strength I have to push through with everything I experienced,
I owe it all to my parents,
who struggled to get me where I am.
In fifth grade,
I remember my mom struggling to help me with my homework.
If she couldn't help me with my fifth grade homework,
there was no way she'd be able to help me with college preparation.
She would go around the whole neighborhood,
looking for people to help me with my math homework.
Even though she was unable to help me, that did not mean she didn't support me.
My parents' support is what got me through accepting myself
in pushing forward with my education,
support that I often failed to see elsewhere.
When I was younger,
I also remember her pushing my wheelchair down the street
while taking my brother in a baby backpack
to take the public bus every other day
just so we could make it to physical therapy appointments.
Had she not done that, I would have remained wheelchair bound.
Despite the inner-city struggles we were victims of,
the lack of resources they were unaware of
and their foreign concept of higher education,
the acceptance, hard work and tenacity my parents showed
is what pushed me to continue through this very day.
Living with a diverse ability has come with its fair share of challenges,
and the fact
that I'm a first generation, low income Latina
also play a role
in the experiences and struggles I've gone throughout my life.
These experiences and struggles are not unique to who I am
but also prevalent in the lives of people
with diverse abilities and intersectionalities.
This is why we as a society should recognize
that all intersectionality should be accounted for
and not one more so than the other.
I know at this point, perhaps some of you may be feeling sorry for me
and the struggles that I've endured,
but feeling sorry won't solve these issues.
Awareness and advocacy are the key,
from being considerate of push buttons on the doors,
saving seats in the edge of class for people with diverse abilities,
or if you want to go bigger,
bringing awareness campaigns to your campuses or workforce
in order to create more inclusive spaces.
Before I leave UCI,
I hope to continue bringing enough awareness about this
to show that we need to increase the number of people
with diverse abilities in higher education
and take into consideration
of how intersectionalities affect the members in our communities.
One year ago, I was on the brink of dropping out
with the frustrations,
helplessness and loneliness that I felt through ableism.
Now, I stand before you, or in this case, sit before you,
stronger than ever before,
with the hopes of paving the bumps and the cracks on the floors
to provide a smoother ride for future generations.
Thank you.
(Applause) (Cheers)