I still remember the moment I put on my graduation hat. After years of hard work, I was overflowing with pure happiness. My journey hasn’t been easy I was born without oxygen, and doctors weren’t sure I’d make it. But that moment proved I could overcome anything.
As a consequence of the lack of oxygen during birth, I am left with a body that does not obey what I want to do and my limbs are dancing in a tireless pattern. I have a brain injury that causes me to have a disability called cerebral palsy and no control of my movements. That is why I sit in a wheelchair, I speak through an eye-controlled computer, and I have assistants 24 hours a day.
Trapped in a body that is subject to another power, it has always been clear to me: It is my intellect I need to utilize. Therefore, this is what I am doing. Meanwhile, I am meeting resistance to this. If I am among people who are unfamiliar with me, I am often judged by my exterior and my competencies are underestimated.
Many people have cast doubt on my abilities. In primary school, one of my teachers said to my parents: ‘How can we be sure it is Astrid who does the homework? She has people around her so it could as well be them.’ My father’s face turned red and my parents defended me. Of course, it was me who did the homework. This was not the only time I was discriminated against.
I remember it as if it was yesterday: sceptical looks, folded arms, and frowned brows.
Just a few months had to pass and then I could have a fresh beginning. And now, here I was, sitting across from a man, my study advisor, who was to decide my fate. I told him I had a plan. I had known I wanted to attend high school since I was 10 years old, and I had already considered how it could be structured. All I ever wanted was to utilize my cognitive abilities and find my own way in life. I wanted so badly to take an education.
To our big surprise, we received a message a few days later the study advisor declared me unfit for studying. At first, I could not believe my own ears. I could not understand it. I had good grades from primary school, I had no social or personal issues, and I was not tired of going to school. But then it struck me.
It felt as if I was stabbed in my stomach. Unexpected, unwanted, and almost unbearable. I felt stigmatized and discriminated against. The conclusive factor had without a doubt been my disability. Clearly, I was living in a society filled with prejudices and thoughts about everyone and everything. I kept telling myself it should not be an obstacle for living the life I wanted, and we would somehow manage to solve it. This was just another bump on the road we had to get over.
The next day, I mustered up the courage to ask one of my Favorite teachers if she knew about his decision. She was as shocked as we were. A relief spread in my body. Maybe there was still hope.
I met with a local high school hoping to be admitted, but the meeting was discouraging. My nerves showed, and every word and movement felt judged. Instead of seeing my potential, they focused only on my disability. Still, I refused to give up on being accepted.
The next time I met the headmaster, he ended the meeting by saying, ‘Astrid you are welcome here after the summer holidays.’ I smiled, but soon I found out he lied to my face. I was not welcome. They demanded I take an admission exam, which would not normally be necessary when you had good grades, as I did. I cried. I had never before felt so discriminated against in my life, and then I knew with all of my heart: I had to change my plans.
We called the headmaster of the other high school in town. He said, ‘I have been following the case from the sidelines. It is a task that a high school must take on.’ I was happy and I had been worried if I had been too optimistic, but fortunately, I had stuck to my own ideas of what I wanted and what I could.
When I started high school, I decided to try my very best. I decided to prove them wrong. The suspicions and rejections I experienced should never happen again, not to anyone. I started to get interested in politics and suddenly I could not stop using my voice. I became a board member of a political organization of young people with disabilities.
Furthermore, I had the Honor of receiving an award, and the one thing that was on my mind at the ceremony was to control my arms and avoid hitting Her Royal Highness Princess, who was presenting the award. She was standing right next to me.
I’ve always been passionate about improving life for people with disabilities. Even with the challenges I face, I graduated high school with top marks using an eye-controlled computer. Despite being rejected by several universities, I refuse to give up. I am more than my disability, and I’m determined to prove it.
