Page 53 of At First Smile
Game of Thorns
Pen
Arainbow of colorful kazoos accompany Lord Bobo McLaughin’s boisterous “Happy Birthday” rendition. Staff, volunteers, parents, and pint-size patients crowd into the room for respite with games, toys, and various activities. With Cane Austen – a pink balloon tied to her handle – in one hand and a green kazoo in my other, my smile is large as our hospital CFO, who dresses as a clown for our weekly birthday celebration, gyrates to the buzzing kazoos.
It's one of the best parts about working at Walters Children’s Hospital. The not-for-profit hospital offers free medical care for children with chronic conditions, cancer, and other diseases, or who have been in life-altering accidents. Not only does Walters provide world-renowned medical care but also a holistic experience for the kids and their family who spend far too much time stuck in hospitals. As the volunteer coordinator, I spend my days ensuring these families don’t have the traditional hospital experience but, as our CEO touts, “The Walters’ experience.”
“This has to bemyfavorite part of the week,” gushes Nelson Lewis, the VP of Major Gifts and Donors and my boss’s boss.
“Me too.” Grinning, my eyes jump between the clusters of clapping children in paper birthday crowns and Nelson, a smile stretched across his round face.
“This is just one of the many ideas you’ve implemented in the last three years. The department is lucky to have you. I’m on bated breath to find out what you do as interim director.”
I flash him a cheeky “Just you wait” smirk.
It’s official. This morning Jamal announced his retirement at the end of the month and that, effective the first of August, I’ll be the interim director of voluntary services. He’d told me on Monday, but I was sworn to secrecy until it was announced during today’s department head meeting.
“I saw the piece in theLA Presson you.”
Ugh.I school my features, avoiding the urge to scowl.
Can I go a day without that article being mentioned? It hit Monday night and caused an uptick in my followers, requests from reporters and disability advocacy organizations, and even a few businesses asking for consultation. I shouldn’t complain. Cane Austen and Me is all about raising awareness. To make change.
But the gist of the articles churn in my stomach. Some of the reporters leaned into the poor sweet blind girl lost in the airport and the big, strong, and sexy – okay maybe that was my descriptor – hockey player who rescued her angle.
At least, theLA Pressstory had a more thoughtful approach. Miguel Reyes, the reporter who reached out and I contacted Monday morning, did a nice job. His article, with its actual research, focused on universal design versus a blind girl in need of rescue.
Nelson coughs. “I didn’t know about your advocacy work. Jamal mentioned you did some social media influencing, but I assumed it was fashion.”
“Fashion?” I guffaw.
“The department secretary goes on and on about your outfits.” He chuckles. “You’re using social media to do good. My teens just use it to complain about doing chores. They have thousands of followers enthralled with their stance on childhood chores being unpaid labor. God, I miss the days before they learned to speak.” He rubs his forehead.
I huff out a chuckle.
“Well, it was an excellent piece and reinforces what an asset you are.”
“Thank you.” I slip the kazoo into my blazer pocket and begin to untie the balloon from my cane. It’s a little silly to have such whimsical accessories while talking to my future boss –hopefully on a more permanent level.
“Speaking of being an asset—” The tap of his dress shoe pulls my attention back to him. “—we have a new donor, the MVP Foundation. We’ll announce our new partnership and large donation at a fundraising event in two weeks.”
“That’s amazing!” Smiling, I hand the balloon I’d freed to a nearby child and turn back to Nelson, my face twisted in confusion. “What does that have to do with me being an asset, though?”
Searching my memory, I have no recollection of the MVP Foundation. In my role, I’ve built relationships with many companies and organizations, but this one doesn’t ring a bell.
“They specifically asked that you represent Walters at the event.”
“Me? Why?”
“The MVP Foundation raises money for adaptive sports programs for children and teens with disabilities,” he explains with a dismissive shrug.
“Interesting. I wonder why they asked for me.” I nod and my fingers coil around Cane Austen’s handle.
It’s not the first time –nor will it be the last– that I’m specifically tapped for a disability-related thing. In high school, college, grad school, and even here at Walters, I am asked to sit on committees and speak at or attend events that always seem to be associated with disability or blindness. It’s a double-edged sword. I don’t want to be a token, but at the same time, it’s vital to have people see someone with a disability in an important role.
He slips his hands into his trouser pockets and rocks on his feet. “I’d imagine they saw the article, too, and thought this was a good fit. Their donation will allow us to outfit our physical therapy department with some state-of-the-art sports equipment, and the ongoing partnership will establish a scholarship program for Walters’ patients to attend the foundation’s sports camps. It’s a big deal, Pen… Especially for your transition tointerimdirector. I hope you’re able to attend.”
My lips pull up into my “just for mom” smile at the emphasis placed on interim. This is my first test even before starting the new role. We both know it.
