[completed] Nova Carter knows exactly what the next few years of her life will look like: she will work harder than anyone else (as she didn't get into New York University to slack off); she'll be keeping her head down and prioritizing getting her a...
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Chapter Eight | Booster Seat
♫Booster Seat by Spacey Jane
"Obviously, I want this meeting to be a safe space for us all." Hyde stands in the middle of the circle, his hands clasped together. "Some of you I've been seeing for a couple of years now, others I met just last week, but what I think is so beautiful, what you all have in common, is a desire to share this with somebody. I'm not going to sugarcoat it— you're all adults, I don't need to— you're a minority. You're disabled. And that alone means that your time at NYU and your life beyond it will be ten times as difficult as that of those outside this room. With a few exceptions, of course. But it's been decided and set that you'll face prejudices, discrimination and loneliness out there."
I don't think Hyde's realizing how his introduction speech comes across. On my left I see Emmy twitch, uncomfortable at the suggestion, and on my right both Isla and Philip have their lips in a straight line.
"But—" Hyde circles around and his eye falls on the four of us. "Are you alone? No. You're not alone. Not a single one of you is. If you have questions, ask them. If you need support, come to your peers. If you're struggling with anything within or outside of the frame of your disability, you have each other."
Coming into this meeting, I think the least I expected was to find someone like me. Difficulty walking, tension around the fingers and the mouth, a distinctive voice. But most of the people here seem to have less visible disabilities. In a way, that makes me uncomfortable. I've always felt so different, like the way my disability manifested itself makes me stick out like a sore thumb, and I thought that if there was any place that wouldn't be the case, it would be here.
Of course, there are two wheelchair users (Isla being one of them), but their movements and voices seem perfectly fine. Earlier, Isla used two fingers to unclasp a bracelet and slip it into her bag like it was nothing. Meanwhile, it took me twenty minutes to try and clasp a watch around my wrist this morning and when I finally gave in and asked Olivia to help, she did it within two seconds. Then there's Logan fetching my drink and me paying with cash at the register, making everyone wait because my fingers just wouldn't grab onto a penny in the folds of my wallet. Looking around, I think none of these people with their perfect fingers and their non-trembling hands would ever experience something like that, or know what that is or feels like.
"We're all different in our way of moving, talking, in our chronic pain, but I don't want you to get discouraged and feel like you're the only one with your specific troubles. The longer we're here, the more I think you'll find out that although your conditions look different, your experiences probably won't." Hyde takes a seat across from me. The rest of us remain quiet as he glances around the room. "Nova," he calls, and I startle in my seat. "Why don't you introduce yourself? Tell us your name, what you're doing here at NYU, and why you're here today."
