I share uplifting anecdotes that have enabled me to triumph over cerebral palsy and realize my dream of walking. Though in a wheelchair for four years in my childhood, I have since reached my goal. It hasn't always been easy; the journey has inspired confidence, growth, and opportunity.

Emotions are taken on a roller-coaster ride. To show the very real effects of ignorance, I recall experiences being bullied (and how I successfully resolved the bullying with love and forgiveness). I then share a lighthearted, hilarious story reflecting the importance of a positive attitude. Then back to a experience of quiet reflection that inspired me to persevere through the fiercest storms to the brightest sunshine of life. This cascade of emotions can reveal the light that shines within us.

My audiences, young and old, realize that our optimism allows us to reject our disabilities by developing confidence in our abilities. When we learn about differences, we reduce the fear of being different -- which can be transformed into kindness and respect, perhaps admiration.

This is the triumph of the human spirit.

I often receive heartfelt emails from children and teens. Some shared that my assembly at their middle or high school years earlier may have saved their life. Kids are authentic in their emotions.

Read insightful emails I have received from my former students.

During each program, I often switch between frustrating and hilarious stories. 

One morning, I faced a rough crowd at a middle school that was largely receptive to my program; that is, until I got to the Q&A session.  I called on a student way in the back who eagerly raised his hand, wanting to ask a question that would make the guest speaker uncomfortable. I couldn’t hear the question yet was confused by the collective groans from staff.  The teacher with me on stage rolled her eyes and refused to repeat the question. However, I insisted on answering it!

The teacher reluctantly repeated the question: “You must make a lot of money from these assemblies.  What’s your salary?”

Unfazed, I simply allowed my heart to respond:

“Wealth comes in more ways than just money. Your good health and the love from family and friends are worth much more than gold. If that's the case, I am the richest person here and invite you and your peers to walk besides me and be the same way!”

Many students beamed and nodded in agreement, even the one with the larger ego. I gently brought him back to earth with this perspective, opening his eyes and brightening his world. 

Strive to do the best with the day you have.

Diversity can best be understood by sharing the following analogy.

I first describe the love for detailing my unique car and the passion I have to keep it looking sparkling! Sharing photos of my Honda Accord rebadged with BMW emblems gets the audience laughing. So I then hold up one of the new yellow microfiber towels that I plan to use on my car.

Examine this towel under a magnifying glass. Envision the thousands of intersecting threads that give the towel its strength, color, and quality. 

What if this towel was multicolored? 

Thousands of threads with bright colors intersect with those that have a more neutral color. Every thread is vitally important to the towel itself. 

Isn’t life the same way?

If we consider each thread as a person, we cross paths with thousands, perhaps millions, of different people on our journey through the years, on this “tapestry” of life. 

What occurs when our paths cross with another?

If one acts out in anger, hostility, or ignorance, both threads become frayed, distorted, and discolored at that intersection. Sadly, a hole begins to form in our life tapestry. 

If, however, crossing paths with someone who inspires, uplifts, and motivates allows both threads to expand, thicken, and become vibrant as self-esteem increases. Between these intersections, your thread gets narrower and tighter. 

You thus find yourself becoming a part of a living, breathing tapestry of life.

This analogy is introduced in the second book I am now writing!

“Hello Dr. Paul!  My name is Emma, and I attend the high school where you spoke today.  

I'm writing to you because I want to thank you — for your honesty, for your courage, and for taking the time out of your busy (and might I say, very accomplished!) life to share your amazing story with us.  My apologies in advance if this letter is a bit long, but I do hope you read it, and I hope that from it, you get a sense of just how powerfully your words have impacted me, just a regular sixteen year old girl from New Jersey who never expected this kind of epiphany.

I walked into my school's auditorium today feeling like I have often been feeling lately: gloomy, cynical, and frankly, just plain tired; tired of school, tired of college applications, tired of feeling like I have no control over my life or how it's going to play out.  Paul, for the past year or so I've been resenting myself for not working to my full potential throughout high school; for letting my grades drop slightly, and consequently, for limiting my chances at attending my dream universities when I know that, if I had only pushed myself, I could have achieved great things.

You see, to talk about chances, to talk about opportunities taken and missed, is a thing that for many people often leads to feelings of regret and sorrow.  We have a tendency to lament over the people we did not get to know, the trips we did not take, the songs we did not sing.  It's easy to look at the challenges we have faced in life and use them as excuses for not seizing opportunities and taking chances.  We use our obstacles to justify our lack of drive, our lack of motivation to be the best we can be.  Today, as I sat among the sea of high schoolers listening to your presentation, I realized that that kind of justification is anything but justifiable.  In fact, it is totally unacceptable, and every time I have engaged in it, I have done myself, and those around me, a great disservice.

People like you, Dr. Paul, are living proof that obstacles do not equal impossibilities.  And chances, well, they are what we make of them.  Some people, given your disability, would conclude that they were robbed of their chance at a "normal" life.  But you took your circumstances and used them to create your own chances; to make your own luck.  You saw the chance to inspire others through your many accomplishments, and in your own words, to, “turn a frown upside down.”

At the beginning of your presentation, you asked all of us students to give you a smile, and I must admit, I found it hard to do (or rather, I found it hard to do genuinely, without faking it).  As your speech went on, I found smiles breaking through every so often — when you shared the story of your Mercury-BMW transformation, for example.  I smiled, laughed, and even cried ... not out of pity, but out of happiness and warm admiration.  At the end of your talk, you gave us one final request: you asked us all to smile again.  And in that moment, I realized that I didn't have to contort my muscles and feign a smile ... because I, for the first time all day, was already smiling.

Your address lasted approximately an hour, and that was all it took for me to gain a new perspective on myself, and my role in this world.  For me to sit in my room, or in my desk at school, beating myself up over trivialities, convincing myself that I've ruined my own life, is beyond ridiculous.  I'm sixteen, for God's sake!  My chances have not come and gone; they have come, yes.  And at times, I have chosen to let them pass me by.  But this is only the beginning (one might even say the beginning of the beginning!) and I have years upon years left to go.  Chances, ultimately, will be there if I want them to be; that is, if I seek them out and recognize them for what they are.  If I am dissatisfied with something, I have not only the power, but the responsibility to change it.  What good is it to bemoan my shortcomings, instead of praising my own talents, and utilizing those talents to help myself and other people?  I am strong, and I am capable, and I can do this.  My life is up to me.

From the bottom of my heart, Paul, thank you.  You gave me courage today, you gave me hope, and you made me smile again.  Whenever I start to feel down about the world, it is incredibly comforting to know that people like you exist — that you are out there somewhere, taking chances and making dreams come true.  I hope you know what a special person you are.  

There aren't too many Pauls on this planet.  People like you are one in a million.  But even if we can't all be Paul, we can still all be someone. And that is enough.  That is more than enough.  In truth, that is everything.”

— Emma, 10th grader