I was twenty-something, fresh off my first posting in San Francisco. New career, new benefit I didn't understand yet: health insurance. One Saturday at the mall, pretzel in hand, I saw a sign at Sears Optical. Free vision test. We accept all insurance. Free glasses, on a benefit I already had. Girls like a guy in glasses. No downside, I thought. Puff of air in both eyes. The doctor said my pressure was 19. Too high for someone my age. I need you on drops, he said. Stay on top

A childhood memory of a jungle gym, a fall, and a friend who let go of my hand. Decades later, a road trip back to that schoolyard changed how I saw it — and how much of my life I'd built on guarding against a threat that was already gone.

The first thought is always the same: This sounds expensive. New ramps. New tables. New everything. To a restaurant owner, accessibility feels like a project big enough to shut down the kitchen and drain the bank account. That fear is rational. It’s also wrong. Think about how you improve a menu. You don’t rebuild the kitchen to add a dish. You test it as a special. You watch. You keep what works. Accessibility is no different. You don’t need a new floor plan. You need small,

You have a place. A restaurant that is yours. The staff knows your order. The manager knows your name. The owner — who is coordinating everything like a maestro — stops by the table because you are family. Everybody knows you like Norm from Cheers. This is not just a restaurant. It is an extension of your home. There is nothing like it. Being in the restaurant business is unforgiving. My friends and family in the business have my utmost respect. Rarely do they have time to ca

That is the sentence I keep coming back to. Not as a policy position. Not as a business pitch. As something I lived — across restaurant tables in Southern California, with one of the best friends I have ever made. His name is Neider Parra Contreras. The Ceremony A few years ago, I was working in Bogotá, Colombia, when I attended a ceremony honoring members of the Colombian National Police. That is where I first met Neider. He was young and carried himself with a quiet dignity

This time of year is special to me. The beginning of summer. Baseball season. When I was in the second grade I wanted to play baseball, but no one could teach me how because I had this cool unique design feature of cerebral palsy, which affects the right side of my body. I have limited use of my right hand. My elementary school sat about three miles from the Los Angeles International Airport (LAX). Its after-school program was where I first watched and observed my schoolmates

I wasn't looking for anything when the email arrived. Greg Moomjy sent it from Delaware, where he was keynoting an opera conference on accessibility. He was in the middle of his own work, important work, and he still stopped to think about me. One forward. No explanation needed. That's the kind of people you want around you. Greg and co-founder Marianna Mott Newirth are the driving force behind Opera Praktikos, New York City's first disability-affirmative opera company where.

Every morning in New Jersey started the same way. I rolled out of bed onto the floor, army crawled to the shower, and turned the water as hot as I could stand just to loosen the muscles around my hip enough to make it to the NJ Transit train into the city. I was munching ibuprofen like Pez candies. Not occasionally. Daily. For years. I have cerebral palsy (CP). I was diagnosed around age two. CP affects the part of the brain that controls muscle movement. It is the most commo

I have some great news to share with you all. I was selected to be an ambassador. Yes, you heard that correctly …. an Ambassadorship! Last month, I was honored to be chosen as an ambassador for the Model Systems Knowledge Translation Center (MSKTC). If you're not familiar with MSKTC, here's what you need to know: it's a national center operated by the American Institutes for Research® (AIR®) that takes complex health research and translates it into clear, practical informatio

The best speakers don’t just share ideas, they share their journey. Robert Lucas’s story shows how courage, service, and self-belief can turn any challenge into strength. An Adventurer and a Fighter . Before inspiring audiences worldwide, Robert was already described by the Pacifica Tribune (April 1993) as an “adventurer and a fighter.” Growing up with cerebral palsy, he learned early that physical limitations shouldn’t define a person’s potential. His philosophy remains simp