CP Stories: Tanya Sheckley and UP Academy

In the third installment of her inspiring story, CP and triplet mom Carol Shrader shares how she watched her son Benjamin, who has spastic quadriplegia, flourish during his college years…

The night before my son Benjamin began his freshman year, I could not sleep. I worried all night long.

“I know, right?” my husband Wade consoled, observing my nervous disposition. “I have been thinking about this day for 18 years!”

Benjamin, our triplet with spastic quadriplegia, lived at home with us and his younger sister Cate for the first three years of college, but getting around campus independently was still a big deal.

He was only a week and a half into the first semester when we hit our first snag. Benjamin was heading across campus in his wheelchair with a fellow student and following her lead. When she pointed at the curb where they needed to cross the street and asked him if he could make it, he assumed it was flat. Unfortunately, his depth-perception issues prevented him from knowing for sure. It wasn’t flat. He drove right off the curb.

His professor called me, and I rushed to the campus to find my shaken son, clearly in pain and surrounded by college kids, security, and the head of the theatre department. The footplates on his wheelchair were the only thing that prevented him from landing on his face. His feet still took the brunt of the 300-pound weight of him and his wheelchair.

I have never wanted to jerk back control of a situation more – and it was clear I needed to.

Quickly rearranging my schedule, I ensured I could be on campus the rest of the school year. I assisted between classes, shuttling Benjamin between the upper campus and the lower campus where theatre classes were held. I brought him lunch. I took care of his toileting needs. I brought him back to campus for late night events and drove him wherever he needed to go, ensuring he could fulfill his college kid schedule.

At the same time, I worked to find ways to help him achieve independence. I began by phoning the ADA compliance officer and asking for the sidewalks to be revamped on campus. They needed ramps so Benjamin could navigate them safely. When the ramps were consistently blocked by mail delivery vehicles, maintenance, and even professors, I called the dean.

With problems still arising, I called the university president and, in my sweetest Mama Bear voice, told him that Benjamin could not succeed at his college if he could not ever get into the classrooms. A few weeks later, every ramp on campus had been repainted with the words “DO NOT BLOCK” in bold letters.

Meanwhile, Benjamin worked with the ADA office to secure a scribe for tests. The professors assigned a student to copy their notes for him. I was his scribe at home for each assignment. We even burned the midnight oil together, working on a 24-hour theatre assignment to write a play overnight so his team could memorize lines and perform them the next day. Poor Benjamin had to dictate to a scribe who fell asleep between lines.

The triplet’s freshman year continued to be a long year of learning for all of us. Mason was doing well, living a relatively independent life on campus at his college. Claire, my triplet without cerebral palsy, had moved onto campus about half an hour from our home. Throughout her four years, she called, texted, and sent video messages. Sometimes she would share a funny story about life on campus; sometimes, she just needed her mom and emotional support.

When April arrived, I noticed a shift in Benjamin. During a course selection meeting with his advisor, he took an assertive new tone.

“I need to arrange my schedule so that I am at the upper campus for three days a week and the theatre campus for two days a week or vice versa,” he said. “I need for my mom to be able to leave me on campus.”

By the time Benjamin began his sophomore year, he had a personal care team trained to assist him. Having a personal care attendant meant he could be independent of me and could organize his study time, extra-curricular activities, and classes the way he wanted. By his senior year, Benjamin felt confident to move into a newly built dorm with accessible units. It was an enormous step.

Initially, Benjamin didn’t love staying in the dorm, but he grew to enjoy his independence. It was empowering for him to be in charge of his schedule, meals, and life. The accessible dorm and the ultimate willingness of the college administration gave him this opportunity. He had a great college experience participating in theatrical productions as both an actor and a dramaturg and was elected to homecoming court twice in four years.

Benjamin Shrader at a college graduation celebration.

Benjamin graduated Magna Cum Laude with a major in dramatic writing and a minor in political science. When he presented his final script as a read-through performance for his senior project, every single one of his team of PCAs was in the audience because they were so invested in him.

His brother Mason was recently accepted to his second Master’s program in Anthropology, focusing on Bio Archaeology at Texas Tech. Claire is currently in her second semester of Occupational Therapy School at Thomas Jefferson University in Philadelphia.

Claire enjoyed a semester studying abroad in Argentina and founded sibling workshops for the brothers and sisters of differently-abled children worldwide. When she got an internship with an autism foundation, she discovered they had nothing for siblings, so she created a program. She went on to graduate Magna Cum Laude with a major in Spanish, a minor in English, and all her pre-occupational therapy courses.

When I reflect on the triplets’ journey, I would like to call the educators who didn’t want to invest in their potential. I want them to know that those little preschoolers they thought would place an undue burden on their teachers graduated with honors – lots and lots of honors.

I would like to tell them that when Benjamin rolled across the stage with his diploma, the faculty were the first to stand in what turned into a standing ovation throughout the graduation hall. Those faculty did not stand because Benjamin had been a burden on their teaching. They stood because he worked hard in their classes, he engaged on a day-to-day basis, he encouraged his fellow students, and set the bar high for their performance.

I would like to show them photos of Mason digging in the ancient acropolis in Majorca and receiving his hood for his thesis. I want them to read his undergraduate thesis on disability in the ancient world. I want them to know that his honors project won the Phi Beta Kappa award for best honors project at his school. They missed the chance to list this amazing Summa Cum Laude graduate and all of his accolades among their alumni.

The Shrader children — triplets to the right with sister Cate on the left.

They also don’t get to brag about our soon-to-be Occupational Therapist Claire who is already changing the world for young people with CP and their families.

College looked different for each of my three. But they each found the school that matched their needs, the path that worked for their personal dreams, and made it not just a possibility but a reality.

College IS possible for young people with CP. They can make their mark and change the world. They can recolor the way society views students with CP. They can affect change. They CAN succeed.

[In the second installment of her moving three-part story, triplet and CP mom Carol Shrader describes her son Mason’s experience of finding independence as he left home for college for the very first time.]

When you’re a mama bear who has raised four children with very different needs, it’s instinctive to be a helicopter parent. But as I stood on the sidelines watching a college administrator empower my son Mason, I knew the time had come to take a backseat.

“Mason, I’ve heard what your mom thinks you need,” he remarked. “What support do YOU think you need to be successful?”

He may not have made my list of favorite people right then but, as Mason replied with his thoughts, I recognized he was encouraging my son to take charge and have a voice in his own support structure. He was also empowering me to hand over the controls. I could tell by Mason’s face that he was happy. I knew this was the place for him.

Mason was born with spastic diplegic CP, and while he is physically more independent than his brother Benjamin, who has spastic quadriplegia, he has a longer list of medical issues.

When my triplets’ college years arrived, our first hurdle was to find the proper support for our sons to sit for their SATs. I spent hours finding a test site that provided the accessible space we needed for the boys and would allow for scribes to help them write their answers. I filled out multiple forms to ensure the scribes would be permitted and assembled the required medical documentation.

With all the approvals in place, the first test date approached. But even with the best-laid plans, there were obstacles we could not anticipate. My trio was as prepared as I could help them be. They were ready. Then the school called the day before the exam. The scribes had decided they didn’t want to work that Saturday, and the school could not replace them. They would “try” to hire someone for the next test date. Claire took it that day, but Benjamin and Mason had to reschedule. They ended up taking the SAT twice and gained good scores. The relief would carry us through the college application process and all that it entailed.

Our college wish list consisted of schools with excellent access, a manageable student population, and programs of interest. We visited campuses all over the country. We toured schools in Philadelphia, Minneapolis, Chicago, and their more expansive geographic areas, and checked out small liberal arts colleges in California, Mississippi, and Arizona.

We saw great colleges with insufficient access and colleges with excellent access but seemingly a million students. In the end, all three of my triplets chose small liberal arts colleges that offered them an intimate learning environment.

Once Mason had secured his favorite college choice, I helped him put everything we thought he needed in place to live independently. While his campus was only 15 miles from our home, we had made a cross-country move just a few weeks before college started. We had to find Mason doctors to manage his cerebral palsy and his related high blood pressure caused by problems with one of his kidneys, as well as his ulcerative colitis. I had equipped him to talk to doctors himself, but I had failed to teach him to talk to pharmacists. We would have more than one tense mother and son discussion about refilling meds BEFORE they ran out. Equipping him to call in his prescription refills in time and pick them up before he missed a dose was a skill I had overlooked as I prepped him for college. The truth is you can’t predict everything, and you will always be problem-solving on the go.

Mason navigated campus with an electric scooter and his power sticks. Like most moms sending her first born to college, I worried a lot and followed all the campus social media, hoping to get a glimpse of him without nagging him to send me photos.

I was nervous about the electric scooter he took to navigate campus. What if it had negative connotations for him? There was no need to worry. It didn’t. When he joined a fraternity, the president made a point of climbing on the back of Mason’s scooter with the official flag. “We’re going in last!” the president enthused. Staff and students together nicknamed that scooter and were disappointed when rain the weekend of graduation prevented “Bocephus” from attending the swiftly organized indoor ceremony.

Mason threw himself into campus life, serving his fellow students as a resident assistant in the dorms. He was elected student body senator.

When Mason called home his needs varied from emotional to physical, to help with an essential decision like which bow tie matched which shirt. My personal favorite phone call was when he needed me to stop by campus to button the little tiny buttons on his dress shirt.

Mason’s college was not perfect from an accessibility standpoint – the sidewalks were in a deteriorated state, and navigating them in the scooter could be hazardous. The beautiful old buildings had elevators that broke down and didn’t work almost as often as they worked, but the administrators were committed to Mason and his needs.

The professors recognized his abilities far exceeded his limitations and worked to maximize his opportunities. He thrived, even studying abroad on archaeological digs in the Yucatan of Mexico and off the coast of Barcelona, Spain. Mason worked hard and he had chosen a school with the heart necessary for his success.

He graduated Summa Cum Laude in four years with a major in Classics (Greek and Latin), a major in Anthropology, and a minor in Archaeology. His picture hangs on the wall of the student center as one of just four students in his graduating class chosen for the Hall of Fame. Mason earned this accolade because he took the heart his school poured into him and gave it back with dedication.

Today, Mason is finishing up a Master’s in Classics at Texas Tech University. Before the pandemic, he was living alone, on campus a thousand miles from home.

Whatever the problem, Mason has taken it in his stride. Despite living independently, fine motor skills are challenging, but we work out the solutions.

When he started to look like a hairy mountain man with unkempt hair, beard, and nails, we organized a reconnaissance day sending him on Uber rides around the city to find somewhere he could get his hair and beard cut plus a manicure and pedicure. Now Mason knows exactly which strip mall can serve all those needs and heads there every six weeks.

Mason has CP which has thrown some curveballs his way over the course of his life. But when he lectures, cerebral palsy is the last thing on his students’ minds. Recently, I had the opportunity to speak alongside Mason to a class of students working on their masters in special education. We were in fact, lecturing about CP and the impact these students would have as teachers. But when Mason started speaking about his archaeological research, the entire discussion shifted and the previously quiet class began raising their hands to ask questions. Even they, who were there specifically to discuss CP, had completely forgotten that Mason is affected by this challenge.

I can’t help beaming with pride.

(For more information on preparing for college, visit this resource developed by Carol Shrader from her experiences.)