THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, January 28, 1996 TAG: 9601270076
SECTION: PORTSMOUTH CURRENTS PAGE: 10 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Cover Story
SOURCE: BY REBECCA A. MYERS, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 204 lines
AS A CHILD, Daniel Fears refused to wear the leg braces or to attend the physical therapy sessions doctors prescribed to help correct an unsteady gait and lack of balance caused by cerebral palsy.
``They just reminded me that I was handicapped,'' said Fears, now 36.
In school, where he was three years behind his peers, he tried to get school officials to assign him more difficult lessons.
``I thought it was important to try and be like the kids my own age,'' he said.
``I spent a lot of my life trying to be like, quote-unquote, `normal people.' ''
When he got older, Fears tried to learn to drive but just couldn't get the hang of it. He had trouble not weaving out of his lane. He isn't sure if the problem was related to his disability or his lack of confidence.
``Maybe I just need more practice,'' he said.
But until he learns to drive, Fears continues to catch rides to and from his classes at Old Dominion University, where he is 45 credits shy of a degree in English.
When he can't find a ride, he hitchhikes - always toting a backpack and clutching a cane.
``It's not too bad going into ODU, but to get back, it's difficult,'' he said. ``I tell you, the distance between ODU and the ramp to the Midtown Tunnel doesn't seem very long in a car, but if you tried to walk it, it's very long.''
It takes him about 50 minutes to walk the 1.9 miles.
But for Fears, it's just part of a long journey toward his dream of a good job and real independence.
I haven't looked for jobs that much because I always felt I'd be better off with a degree,'' said Fears.
He has held odd jobs in restaurants and offices between studies at Tidewater Community College and ODU.
One of five children, Fears was just 6 years old when his parents divorced. Within two years, his mother remarried a Navy man and the family left Portsmouth for Rhode Island. Eventually, three more children were born.
While the family lived up north, Fears never attended school. When others his age were starting the first grade - then the second and the third - Fears was kept at home.
``My mom used to tell me there was no place for me to go to school,'' he said. ``Consequently, I was about three years behind when I finally got into school.''
Even if there were a school for Fears to attend, his mother would not have been compelled to send him there. Until 1976, there was no law requiring disabled children to be educated, according to Richard DiPeppe of the Endependence Center, a Norfolk-based organization that promotes independent living for people with disabilities.
Being disabled is not like being a part of any other minority group, said DiPeppe, who serves as the center's director of community services.
``You can be African-American, you can be a woman, you can be Jewish, you can be Catholic, and there's some history and there's role models and there's lore and there's information that's passed on to you through your family,'' he said.
``Well, that's not true with disabilities, so if you're born into a family or become disabled in a family of able-bodied people, they have nothing to give you,'' he said.
``They don't know anything about disabilities, they don't know what it's like to be a person with a disability, and they may hold the same myths and misconceptions as the rest of the world does about disabilities.''
That's not to say that the family is bad, cautioned DiPeppe. The family is simply unable to be a source of support in the same way as other minority groups.
I didn't come from a nurturing environment,'' said Fears, who seldom smiles. ``What I decided to do, I had to decide to do on my own. And in the back of my mind, I wanted people to give me a pat on the back and say, `That's good,' and to give me some encouragement, but they never did.''
Growing up, Fears always felt inferior to his seven siblings, he said.
``Being around that many people, I felt like my behavior was constantly being watched and appraised,'' he said. ``It was like they were almost waiting for me to mess up . . . so that they could make fun of me.''
DiPeppe figures Fears' mother probably didn't force him to wear leg braces, attend physical therapy or go to school, ``because she simply didn't know what to do.''
Fears agrees.
``My mom was a really passive person,'' he said. ``If she went up to an authority person and asked about a school for me and that person said, `We don't have a school for him,' she would have accepted that.''
He wishes she had been more of a fighter, more assertive about making sure he got all the medical, educational benefits and opportunities available.
After the family returned to Portsmouth in 1969, Fears attended the DAC (Diagnostic, Adjustive and Corrective) Center for children with disabilities for four years.
He then transferred to Churchland Junior High School and later attended Churchland High School for a year and a half before dropping out.
``I felt like I was too old to be there,'' he said.
To compound matters, Fears never felt completely accepted.
``I was closer to the black kids than the white kids because, in a sense, I was a minority, too,'' he said. ``They were more friendly. They talked to me more. They kidded around with me.
``It was like the whites didn't want anything to do with me. It was like I wasn't there.''
DiPeppe of the Endependence Center agrees school can be a traumatic experience for children with disabilities.
``It's bad enough if you have red hair or wear glasses, but if you have a disability, there are all sorts of things that children do to other children or children say to other children that are very hurtful,'' he said.
``Those experiences are not pleasant, and the school systems have never developed any sort of mechanism to deal with that.''
Less than 50 percent of all people with disabilities have a high school education, said DiPeppe. Between 1 and 3 percent have college educations, compared with about 15 percent or better for the general population.
After quitting school at 18, Fears thought he'd be able to go straight to work, ``but it wasn't that easy for me,'' he said.
And it wasn't because he lacked a high school diploma.
``I think it was more people's feelings and attitudes toward the handicapped,'' he said. ``I think a lot of people feel like we can't do anything.''
Unemployment figures among the disabled confirm Fears' assumption. About 60 percent of all disabled men and 70 percent of all disabled women are unemployed, according to DiPeppe.
Fears eventually earned a GED certificate in 1978 from Woodrow Wilson Rehabilitation Center in Fishersville, Va.
In 1984, he received an associate's degree in liberal arts from Tidewater Community College. He expects to complete requirements for a bachelor's degree in a little less than two years.
After college, he would like to get a job as a technical writer for a local company. In the long run, he sees himself advancing to graduate school. He'd like to be a college professor.
Meanwhile, college loans and financial aid will continue to pay for his education, while Social Security, Supplemental Security Income and food stamps help make ends meet.
``I'm a real frugal person,'' said Fears. ``I don't have to be super careful. But if I'm careful, I can make it.''
In his small efficiency apartment above a garage in Port Norfolk, Fears keeps track of just about every penny he spends.
Because food stamps can only be used to purchase food, Fears takes the change he receives from buying groceries to purchase other household necessities, like bathroom soap, dish detergent and paper products.
Though he only takes two classes daily, his day begins early and ends late. A friend who works at ODU picks him up each morning at 7:20 a.m. and brings him home around 6 p.m.
Each night, after arriving home, Fears usually makes a pot of coffee and listens to the lectures that he tapes in class. Or he'll read short stories and literature anthologies suggested by his professors.
He has a small television at the foot of his single bed, but seldom watches it.
``Mostly I just read books and listen to classical music,'' he said.
That quiet time helped him earn three ``Bs'' last semester in Shakespearean tragedies, British literature and linguistics.
This semester, he'll take advanced composition, creative writing, American drama and American literature.
His apartment is small and sparsely furnished.
A couple of fishing rods stand up in the corner near his bed. Two empty wine bottles decorate a nearby windowsill.
When he's not studying, Fears enjoys experimenting with recipes taken from his mother's favorite cookbook, ``The American International Encyclopedia Cookbook.''
Fears concedes he doesn't have much of a social or family life. His best friend lives in Brooklyn. His mother died 14 months ago.
Only three of his seven siblings still live in the area, as does his stepfather, who lives in Portsmouth. He has been estranged from his biological father since his parents' divorce.
But if he is lonely, he does not dwell on it.
He seems to take his disability in stride, too. Describing its effects on him, he said:
``Well, I walk with this cane. I have an unusual gait, and my body flails. I sweat a lot. I breathe hard. I imagine that makes some people uncomfortable.
``That's what you can see. But I have some other problems, like stiffness. I have some arthritis in my spine. I can't bend my legs more than about 90 degrees. Things like that.''
But the biggest obstacle in his life, he says, has been his ``own mind-set and the feeling deep down that I'm not as capable as a person with no disabilities.''
As an adult, he's come to realize that much of that feeling came from other people's perception of him.
``People around me have always made me feel like I wasn't as good as an able-bodied person,'' he said. ``And if you're typecast as a ``C'' person then you sort of make it a self-fulfilling prophecy, at least self-consciously.
``Now I'm beginning to realize if I apply myself and work really hard, I can probably do as well as the next person.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color cover photo by Christopher Reddick
Staff photos by MARK MITCHELL
Daniel Fears, who has cerebral palsy, waits for classes to begin in
the Batten Arts and Letters Building at Old Dominion University.
After college, he would like to get a job as a technical writer for
a local company.
Until he learns to drive, Fears continues to catch rides to and from
his classes at ODU. When he can't find a ride, he hitchhikes -
always toting a backpack and clutching a cane. When he arrives, he
must contend with phsical barriers, such as stairs.
Staff photo by CHRISTOPHER REDDICK
After arriving home from school, Fears usually listens to the
lectures he tapes in class. Fears, 36, lives in an efficiency
apartment that is sparsely furnished, but it requires him to be
self-sufficient.
T.J. Eckman, 3, is believed to be the area's youngest bowler.
by CNB