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My Road to Madvocacy

My first experience as an advocate was more than twenty years ago. I greeted my eight-year-old sister Chavon, who had fiber-type disproportion myopathy, as she descended the wheelchair lift on her school bus. It was Halloween, and she was in tears.

Bullies on the bus had taken the candy she had received from her class Halloween party, she told me. I let her pass me to enter our house and I stepped onto the school bus. Continue reading