Many people don’t pursue their greatest goals or highest potential because they believe there are too many barriers that will prevent them from becoming successful.  Whether the barriers are real or perceived is irrelevant. In fact, both can prevent us from moving forward. Everyone faces barriers and it is important that we acknowledge them, whether they be physical, emotional, personal, spiritual or otherwise. Once we are aware of them and understand how we feel about them we are freer to face them and better equipped to overcome them. My physical impairments often create additional barriers as I go through my day, but I press on because getting certain things done or experiencing certain things are important enough for me to rise beyond the challenges. What’s important enough for you to move beyond the barriers to get through? All of us have barriers as we go about each day, right? These can be practical barriers, financial barriers, emotional barriers or those created by the people around us in the attitudes they share with us. Yet, people with disabilities, and people living with disabling chronic illnesses, often share common qualities of resilience, determination and adaptability. And yes, we also have those days where we just don’t want to try. It’s part of being human. Believe me, I know this to be true as a survivor of birth with spina bifida with depression and limb loss. Still, I press forward. Each movement may tire me, but I know I’ll be further along in my journey if I just take one movement. The barriers you face may be personal to you, but it is vital that you create ways to move forward, to better understand and overcome them if you are serious about achieving your goals. We all face pain, suffering, stress and other difficulties. Many of us with disabilities and chronic illnesses experience these more frequently, or maybe just differently depending, than the average. At times of stress and difficulty we tend to think that life would be much simpler without these hassles, or that we’ve cornered the market on our own self doubt. , but these moments of difficulties also provide us with added opportunities to build new skills and offer us another chance for growth. Adversity is unavoidable, so why fight it? Whatever we’ve been brought to, we can get through. Accept that life has its challenges and develop ways to cope that work for you. Try this: don’t linger too long on past difficulties, but focus on how you got through them and make a list. And, don’t go looking for future difficulties to make life harder for you. Why do that? The current barriers, whether you have a...

Career coaching – you’ve read about it, maybe heard or read interviews about career coaches. Now you are a high school or college graduate with a disability and wondering, “Should I get one to help me find work?”  It’s entirely possible that a career coach like me is just the thing you need to jumpstart your job search if you have a disability. If you feel like your career has slowed like pouring molasses — or failed to get started at all because you just graduated, a career coach can help you identify all the obstacles that may hamper your job search and help you brainstorm a game plan to overcome these obstacles. Or if you have a specific workplace issue such as wanting to move up in your company or change your focus in your career, a career coach benefits you by understanding all the layers of that workplace issue you’re facing and helps you to explore and/or try out potential solutions. If you have a specific career weakness, such as poor communication skills, difficulty negotiating, or you don’t do well with presentations, a career coach can guide you through steps to sharpen those areas quickly and effectively for your benefit. A career coach can also be focused on helping you with a particular event, like an interview, career fair or salary negotiation discussion with the boss. A career coach can prepare you to manage these things with a confident strategy that has higher chances of a favorable outcome. You might be wondering about all the different kinds of coaches: career coaches, business coaches and executive coaches. Basically, a career coach focuses on individuals at either early stages of their career such as a new graduate in the workforce, and helps you focus “growing” your job-readiness in the right direction. Or, maybe you are at a crossroads trying to manage a change, opportunity, or threat of job loss successfully. A business coach tends to focus on helping small business owners grow their businesses (rather than their careers). If you have more of an entrepreneurial spirit and want to work from home or simply be your own boss, a business coach can lead you through the process of creating a business plan, marketing, connecting with the right business idea and customer base, plus more. An executive coach generally works with individuals at high levels in Corporate America, such as a chief executive officer or vice president of a company. Even the higher-ups, who are sharp in many professional areas, can have weaknesses that need to be tweaked to impact a better job performance and their success as an effective leader. Some will do well using a career coach, others may find it...

A dear coaching mentor, Wendy Y. Bailey came into town  to present to our professional coaching organization, ICF Charlotte Chapter, and her presentation and presence has inspired me to deeper clarity and more questions about what I do. I’ve tweaked and cemented my coaching brand, thanks to her example, as well as the mentoring and coaching program I participated in with Coach Bill Baren. And I’m very happy with The Life Beyond Limits Coach® path I’m on now as a result of Bill’s Client Mastery Blueprint Program. Still, something just hasn’t felt quite right in various exercises and seminars I’ve done to perfect my niche in disability life and career coaching. Something’s been sorely missing and I’m still dragging around some ideals that are shooting me in the proverbial foot professionally. Yes, I want to coach people with disabilities – first, last and always. But which sub-niche or population? There are, after all, over 75 million people with disabilities worldwide and I can’t coach them all. (Or can I? *evil cackles*) Do I want to coach veterans coming home with disabling injuries? Do I want to coach ‘tweens’ and teens with disabilities? Or do I want to focus on women? I’d love to coach any number of folks with disabilities, yes, and they are all welcome at my door, but I have to be clear with myself if I am going to really attract and be a sharp coach to a particular group of people with disabilities that rings the bell in my soul. After a satisfying dinner, Coach Wendy asked me, “So, what’s her name? What’s she like?” Wendy quickly searched for a pen and a scrap of paper to begin writing, waiting for me to answer. “What’s she do for a living?” I at first looked at Wendy like Scooby-Doo perplexed by a cartoon apparition and gave her my version of Scooby’s “Do huh?” yelp. We shared a giggle and backed up. She then asked more clearly, “Who do you feel most drawn to coach, Monica?” Let’s do a quick profile of that person with a disability, she invited. It didn’t have to be perfect or complete right that minute, but on the back of an envelope, words and phrases began to draw a picture in my mind. Wendy asked me again, “What’s her name?” “Christina,” I said with a slight beam, once I got the name in my head. It took me a beat to think. The name comes from one of my favorite, if not my most favorite, painting, “Christina’s World” by Andrew Wyeth. Many art critics describe the painting as melancholy and depressing, but I see so much hope in that scene where Christina, the actual woman...

The U.S. Census Bureau estimates 20 percent of Americans (or about 54 million) have a legally qualifying disability. I am part of that 20 percent or one in five. Despite being part of a significant minority, prior to 1990, recognition of the equal access and equal rights of people with disabilities in our society was nonexistent. A person with a disability is a minority that crosses all the other groups. A person with a disability can be young, old, rich, poor, any ethnic or cultural group, gender or sexual orientation. A disability can affect any of us at any time regardless of our station in life. America’s core values, as I’ve always known my country, has focused on being a land of inclusion with the promise of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all, though not without some amount of struggle for each and every one of us. As I reflect on the recent 20th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act, I think about it as a testament to the fact that change really can happen in incredible and profound ways and, like a ripple in a lake, continues to spread outward. The passage of the ADA on July 26, 1990, was the highlight of my teens. It ushered in, for me, long overdue access to the American Dream for people with disabilities like me. This legislation, distinctly American, revolutionized and transformed the lives of all people all over the country for the better, but we still have far to go, if not in legislation, then in how others receive and perceive us in the human community. At least it opens a dialogue for changing mindsets. The ADA opened wide the doors to better education, more employment opportunities, accessible transportation and essential socialization making people with disabilities relevant to humanity, rather than outcasts. We now have a clear laser lighting the way for people with disabilities to be equal participants in society and realize our full potential. With the power of the pen, and the words of “The Father of the ADA” Justin Dart, Jr., the law finally stated that people with disabilities have the right to go to school, get a job, travel on an airplane, use various means of communication and otherwise experience life to the fullest. Without the ADA, I’m unsure how I and other people with disabilities would live in an apartment, work full-time, use public transportation, go to the store, watch a football game or safely cross the street. The ADA has set clear, unambiguous guidelines for engineering, architecture and human resources, with no bias, to level the playing field so we can access life’s experiences. It spells out what to...

Six months ago today, I was lying in a hospital bed recovering from the necessary amputation of my left leg just above the knee. I had battled, within an inch of my last nerve, a myriad of minor to life-threatening infections and chronic illnesses over the years. In the end, it took over my left foot and my leg just above the knee. Every so often, the foot would give me a problem, heal up, then give me another problem for a little longer. More serious and longer bouts of  infection would invade my body each time. By Thanksgiving 2009, I was done with my nightly date with my husband over bandages and wound care supplies. We fought the good fight, visiting various specialists along the way. Eventually, I realized that if we were ever to resume a normal life, if I was ever to feel well again, I needed to face the fact that my foot no longer wanted to play nice with the rest of my body. My body was weary. And wow, so was I! So began what was, for me, a really long goodbye process. We prayed, meditated, sought opinions and finally decided between Veteran’s Day and Thanksgiving that the time had come. I was ready to eliminate the infections and the tiring battle of fruitless wound care regimens that took me away from work, my husband off work early too often and tied up our evenings with rewrapping my bandages. I began literally talking to my foot once the decision was made to have surgery on January 8, 2010. When I would bathe, I would whisper how good my left leg was for giving me full form and a placeholder during wheelchair to car or bed transfers, even if I couldn’t stand on it. I thanked it for how nice it was to have a foot to fit in nice lace-up shoes rather than be confined to the clunky orthopedic ones from my childhood. I apologized for breaking my grand pronouncements to various doctors that, “I came into this world with all 10 fingers and toes. Whether I use them or not, I’ll die with all 10 fingers and toes!” It just wasn’t in the plan was it? Leaving the world with my 10 fingers and toes intact, that is. But, in the years of on-again, off-again wound care that slowly morphed into a long-term, unsuccessful routine, I realized I gave it my best. I did right by left foot. Took good care of it the best we and I knew how. The infections had just taken their toll and it was time to go our separate ways so I could resume a healthier state of being. As...

It’s hard to really understand what the father of a child with a disability, or “special needs child” goes through unless we have been in their shoes. These dads, like my own, are there with their children giving a gift that no one else can give. They give comfort and reassurance that no matter what, everything will be okay. Sometimes dads pretend to be strong when deep down inside, they are uncertain or even terrified. They are the unsung heroes to special needs children. They are special needs fathers and dads. Any male can become a parent. It takes a real man to be a father.  And it takes a man, I think, of extraordinary stock to be a father to a special needs child. We deserve extraordinary after all, don’t we? When a child is sick, typically it is Mom who handles the care unless the mom decides to work while the father stays at home, or works from home. Special needs moms are very special, but in the world of a child with a disability, Daddy is equally vital. Fathers tend to provide a calming and logical presence, to help bring some clarity to the fuzziness in the world, and help calm and reassure a child in a way no one else can. In families with multiple children where one child is hospitalized or in need of regular care, usually it is dad who stays home with the other kids while mom is at the hospital with the sick child, unless there’s a relative to sit with the kids while they both go. Dad is the one holding down the fort, keeping the other kids safe and happy, and bringing the siblings to visit the sick brother or sister. Dad’s role is very often overlooked because he is so quiet and often working behind the scenes. In my dad’s case, he was a grade parent bringing cupcakes to school, taking me to school or on field trips around his Coast Guard base schedule, helping me get ready for school, while my mother worked and went to school to finish her degree. Other times, they worked as a team day and night investing in the best opportunities for my development inside and out. It made sense when my dad ended his career in the Coast Guard due to kidney disease and wasn’t totally ill quite yet, to be the house dad. And he did well, right by me. To my mother’s half dismay, I’m sure, I grew up to be a Daddy’s girl, still loving her very much, but bonded close to Daddy. I learned her head strong ways and some of his level-headedness. I learned to freak...