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Why did yoy diu choose me? I'm so confused.
Others laugh at me and make me feel sad. I spend most of my time alone, never included in anything. Why did you choose me? I don't understand. I'm so odd or so I am told by my family. One day, my heart opened up and let light in. I picked up a pen and began to write about where I came from. I cried many nights, as I reflected on the many rejections I had in my life because of my differences. So, Autism, I finally know why you chose me... You chose me to be a voice, so I could change other lives. Number dictate who I will be? The things I will accomplish? 67, is the number that autism assigned me. What does it mean? I believe it just a number. Can’t tell who I am. You can’t tell me how to love. You can’t stop me from making my plans or writing my name in the sand. 67, is just a number, so I am told. Let’s release the negative stereotypes about what it holds. 67, Can you hear me stop talking back! I may not pass every test, but I’ll give it my best shot. 67, make it known. You can try all you want to make me cry. But I refuse to let this number define my life. 67, I’ll rise above with those around me who showed love and compassion for who I’ve always been. Way before a number claimed who I was supposed to be. 67, you may have challenged me intellectually, but that has nothing to do with who I am and who I will be. 67 is another one of those poems that is really quite eye-opening. I talk about how 67 is just a number and I don’t really understand why we all have to be judged by a certain set of numbers. It has nothing to do with accomplishments or achievements or the type of person you’re going to be. I was inspired to write this poem right after being diagnosed with autism as a way to speak out and prove my point that there’s nothing wrong with me in spite of what the numbers say.” My name is not slowpoke, so please don’t call me that. My name is not bit, so please don’t call me that. My name is not colored, so please don’t call me that. My name is not crippled, so please don’t call me that. My name is not midget, so please don’t call me that. My name is not spaz, so please don’t call me that. My name is not four eyes so please don’t call me that. My name is not retard, so please don’t call me that. I have these labels but they do not define me. This is certainly not what my mom named me. I feel shame when you call me out of my name. My name is Amanda and I deserve to be called nothing less. This poem was written several years after I defended my senior thesis in which I spoke about the effects of using the “R”word. It’s amazing how the use of that word can make you feel devalued. I hear that word being used on a regular basis and it makes me just cringe. I believe that people need to be kinder to each other and realize when words like that are being used not only do you hurt feelings, but in some cases you can take away a person’s soul.” Little Shepard boy.
He would mind the sheep. His future was bleak. Like David, I'm belittled. I’m told I'm not performing my best, “I'm disappointed in you.” Like David, they would mock me. The giant needed physical weapons to fight his battle. "You think you're so much bigger than me. You believe you have the power." Just like David, I stand against a giant. I gather my five stones for safekeeping. The first stone I stand on the word of God. My Lord will bring me through. I shout praises to His name, “Oh Mighty Lord, see me through.” Infected with the David syndrome. “I can certainly win this." Like David, I might be a tiny person. My strength may not be physical, but it comes from my God. Try and intimidate me or break me down as Goliath hoped to. God gave David inner strength to help him fight his battle. I don't have to be big or powerful to fight my battle. I need God to lead and direct my path, grab His word and hold true to it. Defeated you are. You shall stand no more.
This has to be one of my favorite poems. it’s in a simple format that really looks like a grocery list. Typically, when people say that they are proud to be, they mention they’re proud to be intelligent, clever and so forth. In this piece I call out the fact that I’m proud to be disabled. You don’t hear that very often, so I just want to make it known that God made me a certain way for a reason. Therefore, I’m proud to be. This is not to say that it isn’t difficult but you can’t have a testimony without going through test.”
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