Introduction- 9/9/11

I suppose you could say I'm unusual. Funky. Avante-garde. Well, it's the truth. How many people can devour three lemons in one sitting, read over one hundred books a year, and possess around fifty different laughs? Not many. This freckled, bespectacled bookworm has a story to tell! 

The story picks up in Tabor, a town located in Southeastern Czech Republic, on December 21st, 1995, when a squealing infant named Daniela is born to two ecstatic parents. Around six months later, tragedy strikes. I, the young infant am found to have a coloboma, a birth defect which scars the retina, scars the pupil, and reduces one's vision drastically. Haven't heard of it? Not surprising. Only 1 in 10,000 people get it. Despite the setback, life went on, as it always does. I have been used to coping with my handicap from birth (luckily, the defect was mostly in my left eye), and in my whole life, I have never shared the perspective of those with normal eyes. This has helped me appreciate different perspectives and what I do have.

 

 When I was barely one year old, my parents and I moved to America, something that seemed unlikely with the couple being young (my mother twenty years old and my father twenty four). They would be the pioneers: starting the first generation of my family in America (everyone else still resides in Czech Republic and Slovakia). We moved to Rhode Island, with my early years punctuated by a happy childhood and a caring family, with my mother watching me while my father went to school. As I grew up, I was diagnosed with a learning disability, although my family helped me improve greatly. I lived there until the summer of third grade, when the surprising news came: our family would move to Chicago! The reason? My father had earned his second masters degree at Harvard  and would study for his PhD. at the University of Chicago.

And so we moved. The first year in Chicago was difficult, but my loving family helped me overcome some obstacles. My parents were in a divorce, as new immigrants, our economic resources were limited, and to top it all off, my ISAT scores were in the 30th percentile, largely due to developmental delays. That's when a  miracle happened: I was rewarded with one of the most caring teachers I've ever had: Ms. Webb, an alumna from Dartmouth. She was an inspiration for me, a kind, loving woman who gave me consolation when my father had cancer (ironically, the diagnosis was on April Fool's Day), my ISAT scores burgeoned to the high 90's (though I still had a B average, with a few C's), and she taught me how books helped me explore new worlds. I shall not forget her helpful personality and excellent teaching. Things improved considerably after that. My father made a strong recovery, I attended Lenart Regional Gifted Center, and was enrolled in Whitney Young. I also have an amazing stepmom who cares about me, who is kind to me (even when I do not always return the favor), gentle, and loving. 

Life may be difficult at times, but with perseverance and a loving family, you can overcome many things.