Please welcome Mary Theresa Archbold, come on!
So when I auditioned for the dance program at the University of Michigan,
I quickly realized that one of these things is not like the other.
All the girls there were perfect:
long, lean, hair and a perfect bun, no flyaways. And there I was in a brightly
colored leotard, tan tights, and a ponytail with my curly frays going
everywhere. And then they all did their audition pieces which were meaningful
pieces of modern dance. And then I did my audition piece which was a jazz routine
to Huey Lewis and the News, Hip To Be Square. And when I finished my piece the
director of the program looked at me and said "Wow, we've never had one like you
before." And I quickly realized "Wow, he's talking about my arm." You see, I am an
amputee. I'm a congenital amputee so it's always been this way.
And I have worn a prosthetic since I was about three months old except for a
short stint in high school when I had an injury. And I sort of lived in this
bubble that everyone knew about it and didn't seem to judge me for it. I was
just Mary to them and to have someone point this out to me so blatantly I
realized that's how the world sees me, not as normal, as something different. And
it freaked me out. So that summer I told my mother I wanted to go back to wearing
prosthetics before I started to go to school with 20,000 of my new friends and
she agreed and $20,000 later I had a lovely arm that I went to school with.
And then I started college determined to appear normal and no one would know.
There was a problem right off the bat: I had roommates. And you live
with them. And you might not know but you cannot wear a prosthetic 24 hours a day.
It's terrible for your skin, your skin will actually break down and bleed. So my
way of hiding it was at the end of the night I would get into bed pull my
covers up really tight and take off my arm underneath the covers, and the first
thing I did in the morning was put it back on and then get out of it
gracefully I'm sure. And I succeeded, I appeared normal, and then eventually I
was getting married and I was looking for the most important part of your
wedding, the dress, and I found the dress and I knew it was the dress because my
mother started to cry when she saw me in it. And there was only one problem with
the dress: it was strapless and that meant that my arm would be showing and
on my wedding day I wouldn't appear normal. And so my mother had these
wonderful long gloves made and they covered my arm beautifully but somehow
on the morning of my wedding I decided "I'm not gonna wear them. I'm just gonna
go as me," and there I stood at the back of the church about to go to my wedding
and I pulled my veil over my arm. And then I moved to New York and I'm a
professional actor and yeah and so I'm performing and I'm working with a
wonderful company that's called an integrated company where they have
able-bodied and disabled actors performing together and everything was
going great and I did a wonderful new piece by Neil LaBute and the New York
Times came to reviewed it and they said it was wonderful and they pointed me out
and they said it was only unfortunate that it was performed by an able-bodied
actress. This was my coup de grâce. The New York Times that I was able
bodied, so it doesn't get better, I have arrived. And then just at that moment I
got the biggest challenge to appearing normal: I became a mother. Yeah so luckily
when you're pregnant, which is ten months not nine, just for clarifications sake,
you have a long time to think about how you want to deal with your prosthesis
and your children because you worry, not just about yourself, about what will they
face, how will they explain it, what will they think of it, will they see me not as
normal. and I decided before I had my son I wasn't gonna let him see me not normal.
So I was going to take care of my son with my prosthesis on. So when he came
home I was working with my arm and taking care of an infant and I realized
as I'm feeding him his head is resting on my prosthesis which is metal and I
realize I'm changing his diaper and a squirming baby is moving so I placed my
arm across his chest to try to hold it down and I'm resting two and a half
pounds on a five pound ten ounce baby to keep him in place. And I'm thinking "Well
I will appear normal so it's fine, it's fine," and then I got my biggest challenge
yet. I had to bathe him. Prosthesis, just so
you know, can't get wet, never, bad, metal water not good. So after about ten days
of my son being home my mother said to me "You must bathe your child, he's filthy."
So I set it all up: got in the sink, got the little leaning board for him to be
on, the towel, the soap, the washcloth, the secondary towel in case there's
spillage. I'm all set up and I realize I am freaking out. I do not know how I'm
going to do this. So as I turn on the water and place my son into the sink
this is a new experience for him and me and I am trying desperately to do this
all with one arm. So I take my prosthesis behind my back and I start trying to
wash him and put the soap on the washcloth and rub him down and he's
starting to slide down this deeper into the sink and I feel like I can't pick
him back up because my hands now slippery and I'm trying to lift him up
and he starts crying and the one person he looks to for trust, the one heartbeat
he heard for 10 months is crying too. I was freaking out, I didn't know how to take
care of my son because my arm was in the way. So I took
off my arm, threw it on the ground, and I took care of my son. And in that moment I was
me, with him, and it was one of the most beautiful connections I've ever dreamed
of of being a mother. And things since then have been great. He's three and for
the most part I don't wear my arm in front of my son, so much so that if I put
it on he asks me "Are we going out?"
And now I know as he goes into the world there will be questions and there will
be times that he will have questions and I know he'll look at other mothers and
see things that I can't do. I can't play pattycake, I can't hold him with my
fingers and lift him up into the air, and I know someday he'll look at those
mothers that can do that and say "Wow I've never seen one like that before."
Thank you.
That's Mary Theresa Archbold, give it up for her