The Power of Self-Advocacy

I KNOW I HAVE NOT WRITTEN IN AGES.....AND BOY, HAVE I MISSED IT! Applying to colleges has worn me out lately! It seems like all I have been doing these days is writing essay after essay after essay! So...instead of jumping straight back into the blogging scene/lifestyle, I decided to share an essay I wrote with y'all. It's not finished being edited so forgive me for any grammatical no-no's. Here goes:




I believe in the power and necessity of self-advocacy—finding that healthy balance between passive and aggressive. I believe in speaking up and allowing my voice to be heard when my needs aren’t being met. While I stand firm today, a zealot for self-advocacy, I once stood a meek sixth grader, center-stage at a vocal audition, afraid to use my voice.

For any performing artist, an audition has the potential to be an extremely uncomfortable situation. Imagine being a performer with a physical challenge. All you want to do is succeed and not look any different than the high-kicking, triple-pirouetting average Jane towering next to you. As a kid, I could get away with looking cute and hiding behind my vision impairment in auditions; however, being a teenager was a different scenario. I remember my Annie audition, July after sixth grade. Callbacks. Two girls left in consideration for the role of the frizzy, red-haired orphan America adored. I remember feeling on top of the world, feeling like I was really something else…until the director called me to the judges table and told me he could not cast an Annie who’s eyeballs moved back and forth the entire way through the show-stopping “Tomorrow.” He gave me a second chance to perform the number, and I tried with all of my might to focus my eyes on the green exit sign, but the tears pushing out were not much help. I could not go through another audition like this.

Something had to change, or my performing career was going to spiral downward fast.

“You are enough,” her words echoed in my ears as tears fought their way out of my timid eyes. “You cannot let this beat you,” continued Mrs. Amy. She held me close and I gently inhaled her lingering scent of menthol and flowery perfume. “Alie B.,” she continued, “from today forward, you must voice your needs whenever life places a challenge in front of you. You cannot remain on the same plane as everyone else if you sit quietly in the back afraid to cause problems. Your needs are valid, and deserve to be met.” While the tears gently cascaded, I knew she was right, for I regarded my voice teacher with saint-like reverence. However, it is no easy task for a thirteen-year old girl to be reminded of how to cope with her vision impairment, even if the reminder is coming from someone so highly respected. As I looked into her eyes that frigid February day, I knew that I was different and that my eye disease was no longer something I could hide behind.

No, I did not march out of the voice studio with my chest raised and fist pumping skyward. My quest to becoming a master of self-advocacy took three years to complete. But I did cling tight to Mrs. Amy’s words, words that inscribed in my memory like the remembrance of her comforting scent. I began my journey by asking more questions in ballet class when I couldn’t see the details in the adagio arm positions. I felt like a nuisance times, but I was voicing my needs, right? Isn’t that what I was supposed to be doing? My people-pleasing nature tried to attack my new advocating attitude often, but I strived for my new self-advocacy skills to prevail.

As months passed, the uncertainty I once felt about voicing my needs transformed into empowerment. I began to understand that becoming a star self-advocate took extreme persistence and much practice. Fortunately, I had a strong support net of individuals and mentors like Mrs. Amy who encouraged me to keep fighting when my needs were not being met. Not only would these mentors encourage me to keep my chin up, they equipped me with phrases of affirmation to strengthen me in uncomfortable situations.

Lucky for me, I was fortunate to be born with the Gorrie gene of determination, which is a key factor in successful self-advocacy. After a year of practice and a few failed attempts, I succeeded in voicing my needs in an audition situation! I was auditioning for a year-round theatre company, and I knew it was my time to shine. My successful vocal and acting auditions gave me the fuel I needed to keep my head held high through the dance call. Before learning the combination, I marched over to the choreographer and told him that I had a vision issue and would need to stand in the front row while learning the combination, that switching lines was not an option for me. Done. Finished. That was all I needed to say. The choreographer gave me a high-five and told me to “knock ‘em dead.” Empowerment surged through my entire body as I leapt, turned, and kicked my way through an extremely successful dance audition. Ultimately, I had nothing to lose. All I did was unlock the door to my success, and that door would remain wide-open from that day forward.

My belief in self-advocacy is strong, and will forever remain strong. I stand today, a senior, with the privilege to talk to other visually impaired kids and teens about self-advocacy through IMPACT conferences four times a year. And even now I cling to Mrs. Amy’s words as a daily mantra, “Your needs are valid and deserve to be met. You are enough.”