The Hidden Beauty of Disability

Jamie's Corner: Chapter Twenty-Three

November 20, 2025

By Jamie Towey

I have many great memories from high school. Some are about my friend RJ.

He’d stagger through the hallway, back lilting, legs splaying, neck strained from the apparent concentration it took to make his way to the next class. If you didn’t know him, you’d think at first glance he was being a goofball– but nope, that’s just how RJ walked. Over time, he began to rely on forearm crutches to get around better, and before long, he was beating all of us to class after upgrading to an electric wheelchair.

RJ, by any definition, has a disability. He had a virus as a kid that scarred his brain and left him with severe balance issues, as well as trouble speaking. These difficulties worsened over time. I vividly remember seeing him get frustrated at the lack of response his legs, arms, or voice would give in the face of exertion, and I recall him discussing, with tinges of wistfulness in his voice, his younger brother’s impressive ice hockey exploits. But never once did I ever hear him complain. That’s the truth. And no one had a laugh like RJ, then or now; I recently caught up with him over the phone and felt like I had time traveled to my sophomore year when I heard his honking laugh.

To this day, I get emotional thinking about RJ’s life in comparison to mine. I’ve had my share of bad breaks, but a sickness that takes away your ability to walk and talk? But there I go. Like most Americans, I’m afraid of disability.

When I hear about people losing their ability to speak fluidly or use their limbs, it scares the heck out of me, and why wouldn’t it? As Americans we’re taught to embrace our autonomy. I think, therefore I am…

But maybe it’s time all of us start thinking about our worth as individuals differently.

Take Patty Kunze, a woman I recently had the pleasure of interviewing for a video Aging with Dignity will be releasing in the next month spotlighting how physician-assisted suicide (PAS) is inherently discriminatory toward people with disabilities. Patty runs the Rollin’ RNs, a blog where she writes about her perspective on spinal cord injuries as a longtime nurse and T4 paraplegic. One 4th of July, just weeks after buying their forever home, Patty and her husband were out to pick up some pizza, when a car accident severed her spinal cord, broke two bones in her arm, dislocated her knee, and sprained her ankle (she jokes that the last two injuries didn’t end up mattering that much). She recounted that just minutes after she awoke from her weeklong coma, upon realizing that she had no feeling in her legs, she said to herself, “Okay, am I going to be miserable, or am I going to accept this and get through this? I’ll get through this. It’ll be okay.”

Jamie Towey and Patty Kunze

Years later, Patty exudes optimism and spunk. When asked her what she doesn’t like to hear as a person with disabilities, she said “Oh, I’m sorry.” She furrowed her brow and bristled even as she recounted this common comment. “Sorry for what? That I can’t walk? It’s overrated! So, it’s okay… it’s okay.”

Another inspirational individual I interviewed for this video is a man by the name of James Rapp. James works down in Fredericksburg, VA for the Rappahannock Area DisAbility Resource Center, a Center for Independent Living. James has cerebral palsy which affects his motor functions. In fact, James is farther along the disability continuum than Patty. It is extremely difficult for him to speak and he is required to use an electric wheelchair, as walking is impossible. But with his cognitive abilities unaffected, James pours forth inspiration. Spoiler alert for the video, but James’ perspective on life moved me. While his tablet “read” a laboriously typed response to my question on whether he had a good quality of life, he smiled at me as I heard, “I do not focus on what I cannot do, but what I can do. If someone thinks I have a low quality of life, then look at what I can do now.” Sure enough, look at James. He has a career, a purpose-driven life, a winsome smile, and a strong faith.

Jamie with James Rapp

Indeed, we all have something to learn from RJ, Patty, and James – lessons in grit, humility, positivity, and resourcefulness. Mother Teresa of Calcutta, our founding inspiration here at Aging with Dignity, said the poor are “the salvation of mankind.” I think Mother likely meant “poor” holistically. I think she meant that it’s through dependency, through suffering, through interdependence, that we see the precious fragility of human life. That reality, hidden at first glance, is something beautiful.

(The views expressed herein are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Aging with Dignity and/or its Board of Directors.)

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