Disabled But Equal

Born without a left hand, I've always known I'm different. But I didn't see myself as disabled. I didn't want to see myself that way. And most importantly, I didn't want others to see me that way. I wanted to be seen—and treated—as equal to my peers. I didn't want my physical difference to limit my opportunities or experiences, and I didn't want others to perceive me as inferior or broken.

But as I close in on 50 years of age and surpass 20 years of legal practice, I've come to face a tragic, disappointing reality: There's no escaping that perception. And the more I fight it, the worse I make things for myself.

I'm disabled. That's a fact. And I'm finally okay with that—because it doesn't define me or limit me in ways that matter. Sure, I'll never be an award-winning juggler, but neither do I aspire to be. I'm a lawyer whose disability imposes no constraints on the service I provide clients. To the contrary, my disability has been the source of some of my