
Story by Jennifer A. Wells
Photos by Lauren Sabol

A 25-minute trip in nice weather will be much shorter for Leslie Meneses now that she got her license and van.
Her white van has hand controls instead of a foot break and accelerator. She drives with one hand on the accelerator and the break, and the other on the steering wheel knob. It also has a ramp to allow her wheelchair to easily enter the van.
All this equipment is needed for a simple van ride because Meneses was born with Cerebral Palsy.
United Cerebral Palsy defines the disease as a group of chronic conditions affecting body movement and muscle control. It affects each person differently and is the result of brain damage, typically during labor.
In Aguascalientes, Mexico, her mother gave birth to Meneses 10 weeks premature, and she weighed two pounds at birth.
Shortly after Meneses went home, her parents realized she wasn't developing like other children — her parents noticed she wasn't rolling over. Everyone would say Meneses would catch up with the other children, but she was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy at age 2.
"I went through so many surgeries at a young age," she remembers. " I went to hospital visit after hospital visit with ill kids who were almost dying. It was hard to handle."
Eventually, Meneses learned how to crawl, and then had to use what she describes as a "big awful-looking metal box" to learn how to walk. Then she progressed to crutches.
To get the best physical therapy, Meneses had to move to Mexico City with her aunt and grandmother, which was a six-hour drive from her family.
"As a child, I missed my family so much," she says.
Despite this, she never had problems making friends in school, but her physical disability created a feeling of isolation. During recess, she spent a lot of time by herself because she couldn't hang on the jungle gym or climb the monkey bars like her classmates.
To keep busy while the other students played on the jungle gym, Meneses got permission to sell items, such as candy and stickers, to her classmates.
"I had to get special permission," she says. "The school wanted kids to spend money in the school store."
Other school policies made making friends easier.
"I got out of class early to get to the lunchroom first. A friend go to walk with me," she says, adding that her classmates would become extra friendly.
Meneses then came to Ohio with her parents and brother, and she attended Sandy Valley High School in Magnolia, Ohio, for a year before college, which helped her with the cultural difference.

"I got used to the system difference between Mexico schools and American schools. The way things are handled here are completely different," she says. "In the United States, there are a lot of electives. In Mexico, you get a curriculum you must follow for each semester or year. Few could change their majors in college in Mexico.
"You start with a group of people and finish with a group of people," she continues. "It's harder to transfer subjects. You would be very likely to start over. Courses won't match. You focus on a career. There are no LERs."
The American high school setting was also different from the Mexican one. Meneses remembers being in a class with 11 girls 16 to 17 years old and finding the circumstances shocking.
"Five girls were pregnant at the same time," she says. "I never encountered that situation in Mexico."
After high school, Meneses started college at Kent State's Stark campus in 1998, and then transferred to the Kent campus where she lived in Prentice. Because of its broken elevator, she didn't go upstairs during her entire stay in the residence hall. Students with disabilities were all placed on the first floor.
"Disabled students didn't particularly enjoy this," she says.
Moving around campus, however, isn't as difficult.
"I got a three-wheel scooter when I first got to the Kent campus," she says. "I used my crutches at work and in my house."
Mobility proves to be a challenge to keep a job, go to school and maintain a social life, but Meneses loves the challenge.
The biggest change she has noticed at the Kent campus is all of its accessibility.
"They faciliate movement. Oh, my God! I can't believe it," she says. "I'm a lot more picky now. I've been spoiled."