"Perseverance" In A NonPerfect World
Alvin Law
“What happened to you?” It`s a good question. In a perfect world I`d never hear that question, but clearly, the world is not perfect. I am a reminder of that imperfection. I was born without arms. How? Does it matter? Not to me but people are curious. My mom taught me to be nice to people even if the question isn’t. That is my life…and I wouldn’t change a thing!
I was one of Canada’s first Thalidomide Babies. There were over 15,000 born deformed by the infamous morning-sickness medication (banned globally in 1963) and many can still remember the dramatic images of those poor infants and their families.
I was born in the small, prairie town of Yorkton, Saskatchewan in Canada and it was a birth that caused quite a buzz. This was an obvious tragedy and not just for society. Before I was a week old, I was also given up for adoption. I was armless, very ill and alone…not a great start.
The subject of Perseverance is intriguing to me. The simple tone of the word leads straight to an understanding that to persevere, one must be faced with struggle of some sort and our humanity has come to a place that struggle is somehow a bad thing. I see a disturbing trend where parents will do anything to “protect” their children from any kind of harm. Some harm avoidance is logical, but today’s young people are not learning coping mechanisms when things go poorly. Is it surprising that youth stress is at an all-time high? The linkage couldn’t be more obvious.
Being a motivational speaker, I’m pretty sure some people believe our industry is about “spin”. My story isn’t spin, it is truth and it is not just about “me”.
Take, for example, Hilda & Jack Law. In 1960, after raising their own family, they opened their home to foster-children for temporary care. Six weeks after my tragic start, I am placed with the Laws and their story became mine.
Unlike the parents of the bulk of thalidomiders (survivors of the drug), the Laws had no guilt. Their age (mid 50’s) meant that they had experience and wisdom but, more importantly, they had lived through life’s inevitable struggles. They didn’t plan on keeping me but something incredible occurred; I started using my feet for hands.
Mom used to say God spoke to her and not only told her to keep me but was a constant voice in her head reminding her to never give up on me. I’m not completely sure of the voice but I was the somewhat unwilling recipient of the “never give up”.
I don`t remember learning to use my feet, but I remember sewing. Before I was three, Mom taught me to sew buttons on a rag. She thought it would help me to develop dexterity. Dad brought home various sizes and weights of nuts & bolts (he was a mechanic), and I would spend hours screwing the nuts on and off for strength. When I fell, I was made to get up on my own. When I was hungry, I was made to feed myself. I had to make my own bed, clean up my toys. I had to mow the lawn, shovel snow (with my chest), and take out the trash…with my teeth. I could go on but you get the idea.
Never giving up wasn`t a dreamy portrait of what my imagination could paint. It was a daily mantra whose fundamental essence was: failure leads to success and one success leads to the next.
Today, I am married (almost 20 years), am a dad (Vance, 25) and own a communications business that has taken me to five continents around the world. I`ve done over 7,500 programs for over 2,000,000 people and in 2009 was inducted in Canada`s Professional Speakers Hall of Fame.
Whatever Mom & Dad did, they proved that perseverance pays off; theirs and mine.