I watched Schuyler stand in a sea of women representing their own lives and beliefs, and she stood out from most because of her identification as having a disability. She received a lot of attention from others, with many asking if they could take selfies with her and her sign. She learned something important that day, something that stayed with her.
She wasn’t alone, and there was strength in community.
Schuyler accompanied me to Richmond last week as we stood in the cold morning air and heard stories of people like her, children and adults alike with IDD whose families and friends stood with them as they had for years. My daughter heard from people like her, saw how they were loved and supported like she is, and most of all heard from legislators and professionals and even the governor speak about how they were going to take up the fight, HER fight, and work to build a more inclusive Virginia.
Most of all, at least for me as a father, Schuyler saw me standing out in the cold air with her. Of all the powerful messages she received that day, that’s the one that meant the most to me.
When we bring our loved ones and the stories of our families’ lives and needs to the public, we remind the rest of the world that we’re not just a collection of issues or agenda items, but are living, breathing human beings with dreams and ambitions and lives. “A Life Like Yours” speaks to that goal, and it resonates most powerfully when coming directly from those who have the most at stake.
On February 6, advocates will climb aboard a bus and return to Richmond to take our concerns directly to Virginia lawmakers. Register to join us.