It Takes Courage to Hope
Recently, I read Jasper Hoogendam’s blog post Two ABI’s Went Cycling. Now, you may be thinking that this story was about high adventures experienced along the way, but it wasn’t. There was no agony nor defeat. There was no moment of epiphany. Rather, it was an articulate accounting of the small miracles of hope and happiness when Jasper and his friend (both of whom have Acquired Brain Injuries) made the courageous decision to go for a bike ride.
Early on in his re-telling of the day, Jasper makes the following observation: “Being ABI’s our 15 kilometer event needed some careful advanced planning. I just can’t decide to bike 20 or 50 kilometers on a whim as I did pre-ABI.” In the end, the day turned out to be a success, and he found that as he took care of his friend along the way, he was taking care of himself in the process.
This is a heart-warming story of kindness and friendship, and an ableist might put their computer down with a smile and think about it no further. At first glance, Jasper’s story is straightforward and on point; however, on second reading, you will discover he exposed the underbelly of all of us who live on the fringe of the neurotypical world.
In fact, he put the heart-rending, courage-taking in bold type: “I just can’t decide to. . .on a whim as I did pre-.” Those days of “pre” exist outside of the disAbled’s arsenal of options – for our lives are filled with careful planning. And, even then, we often do not get all contingencies covered. For example, one summer day, I encountered a woman and her husband in a parking lot just outside an art fair. As we approached, we saw that they were fussing with her electric scooter. After a brief exchange, we discovered we could be of no help. They had checked the scooter for power before they left their home, but now it would not start. With disappointment etched on her face, she said, “It looks as if we will need to just go home.”
So, even with all the careful planning, from the moment Jasper and his friend made the decision to venture out on their bikes, they were being courageous and hopeful. Even the simplest details of weather forecast, packing a lunch, remembering to take breaks, pace setting, and reasonable limits, some unforeseen event could have tripped up his travels. For someone who could triple the distance in those days of pre-ABI, Jasper would have considered these items without much ado. In his new life, they took center stage because they helped to ensure the success of the trip.
Facing the energy drains, the fears of failure, and the challenges of engaging with the general public can keep the disAbled at home. We hide behind our walls of isolation, faces lit by the glow of a computer screen. Deep within we dig, looking for puzzle pieces of ourselves. What do we look like? Who are we? What can we do?
If we refuse to face ourselves, we cannot put the pieces together. Summoning up the courage, we take each broken piece as if we were archaeologists holding pottery. Slowly, we are redefined. Each day, we gather one more piece of who we are. Courage matures and hope is born.
Finally, we emerge. Some of us scrape off the clay particles and say, “Today, I will venture out. I have hope.”