I was born with Cerebral Palsy on January 11, 1972.

Eighteen years ago, I was attending Mary Carroll High School in Corpus Christi, Texas and I was given a class assignment to write about where I would like to be in five years. I wrote about marriage, children, going to college, and getting a job, possibly as a nurse. I wanted to have a home with a swimming pool and lots of friends. I was 18 and had dreams. I wrote about making my own decisions, and being financially responsible. I could work, I wrote, but local employers in Corpus Christi weren’t hiring "handicapped" people. Even after turning in my assignment, there was doubt about marriage, but I felt that maybe—in case I didn’t marry—I could get a roommate and live in "a handicapped community" in Arkansas that my mom found. I will always need help with physical needs, but I was aware that with the right equipment, I could be more independent.

For the next five years I continued in high school, a requirement of the Ada Wilson Hospital for the Handicapped, where I resided. I was told I needed to have a part time job in a structured workshop. It was an assembly line and my job was cutting and inserting the handles on jump ropes. After Ada Wilson closed its facility, I lived with my sister for 9 months, and then moved to a group home in Terrell, Texas. For the next ten years, I was surrounded by “you can’t” people, so I guess I just surrendered to my situation. My survival was music, brief stays at my mother’s home, and teaching myself to type on the computer with my nose. E-mail became my way of communication with the outside world.

In the fall of 2005, I entered into a foster care arrangement, fired the company that ran the Group Home where I lived for ten years and sought out a Service Provider who thought closer to the way I believe it should be for me. I was empowered after completing a program called Partners in Policy Making and began to pursue my long awaited dreams.

Today, I attend Trinity Valley Community College, where I am a member of Phi Theta Kappa. I am an active member of my church, and in March, 2007, I journeyed to Morocco to help at a school for children with disabilities. Hope has returned, and I have been busy advocating for myself and others. My foster care providers, Bill and Terri Sullivan, have been my biggest supporters, and have loved me like their own daughter. There is no doubt that God was putting the pieces together for me. It’s been a huge struggle for me, but it has made me a stronger person.

I feel freedom for the first time in my life to be me, and to fulfill my dreams, and live my life the way I want to, because “I can.” I don’t want to be defined as a person who is “disabled”, or referred to as “the girl in a wheelchair”. I am not “handicapped” or “disabled.” I have a disability, but I’m not broken.

My name is Candi Yarbrough, and I’m just me! And that’s the way “I” like it!