My Experience As a DIG Summer Intern
By: Celeste Mazloum
Growing up, I never failed to understand what it meant to be “disabled”. I knew it wasn’t easy, one size fits all, and that it didn’t define an individual. In fact, my mom, the strongest and most lively person I know, has battled rheumatoid arthritis ever since her diagnosis fifteen years ago. Despite her bones aching with every movement, she never missed a dance recital, theater production, or school award ceremony. She emphasized the importance of living rather than existing, by doing what you love with the people you love. With such a warrior for a mom, I knew for certain that disabled people are so much more than the label they’ve been given.
Across the world in Beirut Lebanon, I learned the versatility that the word “disabled” held. My uncle Adel’s disability wasn’t invisible like my moms. When he was only eight months, one misplaced vaccine paralyzed him for the rest of his life. His full body paralysis prohibits him from moving without a wheelchair, or speaking, so I use my voice for him.
As I learned first hand the meaning of strength from my family, I was building another community in the heart of Maine. The decade I’ve spent at Camp Wekeela, taught me the true meaning of independence, bliss, and family not always being blood. Last summer, I finally gave back to the camp that raised me, working as a leader in training, where I found myself all those years ago. Through this program, I volunteered at Camp Sunshine. This neighboring sleepaway camp offered the same opportunity of community and love as Wekeela, but for kids and families facing life-threatening diseases.
There, I encountered three young girls: Rose, a seven-year-old with a love for cookies and kayaking, Arielle, a bubbly five-year-old who loved to make friendship bracelets, and Izzy, a three-year-old who never passed up the opportunity to play dress up. I spent the week getting to know everything they loved: chocolate chip cookies, swimming in the lake, Ariana Grande’s Sweetener album, and most importantly, each other. Whether we were all together or one-on-one, each sister took the time to check on the other. The protectiveness each sister had with each other, in combination with our shared interests reminded me of my own sisters. They were just like my sisters and I, except the youngest, Izzy, was suffering from stage four brain cancer. The girls have lingered in my mind since that week as a constant reminder of the eerily similar reality that living with a life-threatening disease is like.
When I arrived home, I had a new sense of motivation to advocate for vulnerable members of my community. Just as fate would have it, at one of my monthly meetings for a youth group I am a part of, Debbie came and pitched her non profit, “The Disability Independence Group”. A light switched in my brain, and I immediately contacted her to aid in any way possible. After back and forth cheerful emails, I was set to help out at the December 12th Holiday Karaoke Supper Social. When the day arrived, I nervously walked to the event unsure of my place within the nonprofit and community members. However, as soon as I arrived I was embraced by Matt, Justine, Debbie, and everyone in attendance. As soon as I put on my DIG shirt and name tag, I got to work helping Justice hand out name tags, capturing content for the social media and of course singing my heart out with my new friends. When the night was over, I knew this was just the start of my journey with DIG.
As the year went on, I attended every Supper Social, forging bonds with everyone I encountered. Checking people into the event became an easy task as I knew most people by name as well as some of their favorite things. Eventually, in May as Debbie was driving me home she was expressing her difficulty with finding a summer intern. Immediately, I pitched myself and we got to work creating a schedule. I began by editing and revising DIG presentations and quickly was able to create my own pieces of work, beginning with my articles regarding pride and hurricane preparedness. Additionally, I was able to branch out into multiple aspects of DIG including the Wallet Card Project, by editing PowerPoints and videos outlining the program. What I most enjoyed was my work for the first ever unconventional Supper Social. Alongside Debbie and Justine, we spent multiple office meetings briefing everything from the actual event to raffles to volunteers. However, all of our hard work payed off because the event was an absolute hit! Seeing everyone’s smiles on their faces brought me pure joy and taught me that hard work really does pay off.
I truly cannot thank Debbie and Justine enough for welcoming me with open arms to every office meeting and event. My experience with DIG has been one of self-reflection and familiarity, combined with inspiration and motivation to live life to the fullest and pursue my wildest dreams confidently with the acknowledgement that life is too short to wait on.
