New writing I would love feedback

One of “those kind of guys.”
As I sit down to write this, I do so with a bit of apprehension. I am not one who likes to look at my own thoughts, but in its own right, over time, I have heard that the process is healing, and opens up a lot of both emotions and opportunities.
Day to day activities become so routine. My true passion has always been to help people through communication and understanding. Going back to my earliest memories, I was always an advocate, and always will be. The advocacy from my memory started on a beach trip I had with my mother. I was beginning to question at age 5 why I was different from the rest of them. I asked, “Mom, why did I come out early?”
She didn’t have time to respond before I blurted out, “I know, I wanted to see the world earlier than anyone else!” Mom then said, “What did you say?” From that moment on, I realized that my disability would always be a part of my life.
Mom and Dad put me through a lot of intense therapy to get their son to “walk.” Well, walking is one thing, but when it is like moving down St. Helens, it turns into a difficult, time consuming process. This went along with hours of other types of various therapies (physical, occupational, recreational, speech, bio feedback, Feldenkrais, functional electrical stimulation, [not electroshock therapy] etc. ) I also spent Kindergarten through 2nd grade in special education.
Special education in 1979 and 1980 was held in the back of a trailer behind where the “normal” kids went to school. I remember the long folding tables with cassette players and big head phones. I remember listening to ABCs and numbers in Spanish and English over and over again. To get me to use a computer, a round disc pressure switch was placed behind my head and a light board would scan through letters, numbers, etc. and I would have to push the button to make the light light up. In the future, this would lead to word prediction technology. World renowned scientist Steven Hawking has been using this technology since I started in 1980. Not only did I learn this technology very quickly, but the special ed administration was tricky, and decided to have me teach my friend who could not communicate, to use the same method to operate a communication device. My friend and I would always ride home on the bus together as our wheelchairs clanked, because of the number of wheelchairs on the bus, and the sheer weight of all those wheelchairs. The rest of special ed daytime activity included being pulled out of class at least 3 times a day for different forms of therapy. I also spent a lot of time in the time out room. They like to put you in there when you make too much noise, or are too disruptive. All of my wailing and growing pains must have been starting, because I spent more time out room than I care to remember.
Luckily, my parents realized very quickly that I wasn’t learning too much in special ed, and at around that time, my dad got a job transferred back to the east coast, where I spent the next 2 years at a Montessori school where I was the only person with a disability. Then it was back to California again, and I was about ready to enter the 4th grade. Mom and Dad had a rule: don’t ever treat Nicky any different from any other kids. This is when I met my best friend, Curtis Miller. My mom and dad paid for an assistant to go to school with me, because the private school did not legally have to pay for anything. Phil was a gentle, strong, tall, energetic, loving individual who happened to be working as a janitor at the school. At the request of the principal, Phil was introduced to my mother, and we were told to go outside and play. We played cops and robbers. Did I mention that Phil was African American, and this was probably not politically correct, and it probably offended Phil a little? Phil was the greatest. He would play football with me and take me out of the wheelchair and run with me and the ball. We would play capture the flag, and whenever someone would capture his flag or mine, we would both go stumbling on the ground, even in the Baltimore snow, and because Curtis was my best friend, I would always try to tackle him. Phil got down on the ground with me, and joined our imaginary rock club, where we would dig in the ground, looking for imaginary precious rocks. After these 2 years, I really had some knowledge under my belt as far as kids go. I knew the realities of not being able to go over to people’s houses, because they were not accessible. I knew that Curtis’ parents and a few other parents really cared for me. I didn’t realize this until many years later, but when they had me over to spend the night, their parents had to take care of me. I know that because of my cerebral palsy (CP), I was not your typical sleep over.
Junior High and high school were very difficult years for me. They represented my social influx into the world of people who don’t like looking at wheelchairs, more or less having to talk to them. Making friends was always more challenging, because of the intense fear that I had, not around socialization, but the real world “no’s” and the letdowns. I was a late bloomer, and I think I only dated once in high school. I went to someone else’s prom, but not my own. I knew a lot of people, and a lot of people knew me. We were more acquaintances. Then, in 1993, I became Jr. class president, and received the high school volunteer award.
My high school graduation was probably a lot more meaningful to me than my college graduation. I got to speak around my whole 3000 student body about how I had learned so much from peer counseling, and how to talk to other people.
Even back then, I was an advocate. In high school, I remember getting trapped in an elevator after a play. My mom and I had already given numerous warnings that the elevator was going to break, so I did the unthinkable: I got stuck halfway up, between floors, and I had to call the fire department. I was so angry, that I spent the next 3 hours banging my head against the pressure switch, writing a letter to the school paper about the injustice, and embarrassment of the whole experience. My letter was in the paper, and I was on the front page.
Shortly after seeing a documentary about Ed Roberts, and the Rolling Quads, I decided I wanted to get my degree from UC Berkeley and had no idea how my life would change. I hope that this book begins to explain the nuances that go along with growing up, activism, school, and all of life’s other quirks. I dedicate this book to the power of activism, and the rights of all people. Because of my own disability, I relate very well to the disability rights movement, and that is where I focus a majority of my advocacy. I would like to thank my parents for being the ultimate advocates, and for the people whom I have met over the years who taught me about self advocacy, and how to advocate for others.