The Best $1.75 I Ever Spent: Hand Sanitizer that Allows Me to Exist in Public
Illustration by Dana Rodriguez for Vox
I grew up in Los Angeles. As the city is famous for welcoming idealists from other hometowns, this fact can surprise those who came from elsewhere. I never put this place on a sundrenched pedestal, or viewed it as a one-note Hollywood stereotype. My siblings and I were raised in a suburban house in a close community of largely 9-to-5 routines.
But the serendipity of growing up in this city, where my parents needed to drive my siblings and I around, insulated me from truly acknowledging the limitations of my body throughout my childhood. I was born with mild cerebral palsy, a physical disability that affects my legs. My knees point inward as I walk, and my joints are often stiff, making for limbs that radiate pain if I move too much or too little.
I had a few surgeries as a kid, but considered them as either easy material for “What I Did During My Summer Vacation” essays or as an excuse to get really good at Mario Kart 64 (my siblings would dispute this). I went to school with the same understanding children until college, so the outlier bully was silenced by teachers or shunned by peers. My dad brought my backpack into school every day, friends cleared paths in the halls, and missing gym class felt like an honor. I knew I was different, but it didn’t always feel acute. I got lucky.
