I had writer’s block during my very last law school final. I sat there wondering how disappointed my parents would feel if I failed the exam and ended up not graduating. To jolt myself into starting my first answer, I reminded myself of something Sugar Ray Leonard’s trainer Angelo Dundee famously told him during a fight. It worked too because I got a B+ on my very last law school final. So, when my girlfriend Dawn called me with her writer’s block during a final, I knew just what to say.

Like myself, Dawn likes boxing. In our lives, there’s even been a parallel to the championship fight, the law school final. Championship fights are now scheduled for twelve rounds each, but once, they were set for fifteen rounds and could even continue longer. Because of Dawn’s learning disability, she received reasonable accommodation in taking her exams, like I once did, so a law school final could have lasted up to six hours. She also took the test alone in a conference room at the West Virginia University College of Law.

Unfortunately, taking an exam in a room by yourself does nothing to help you when your opponent is writer’s block. You sit there trying to start an answer, and all these constitutional amendments and case names come flying at you inside your mind. You try to dodge and weave, and pick the perfect opportunity to launch your counterattack. But, you can’t. You start to buckle under the pressure. When you’re admitted into law school, you know you’re considered a top contender. You are expected to win every fight, especially the big ones. And, instead you just sit there staring at a blank page while being bombarded with even more left hooks from constitutional amendments, and right crosses that case names let fly at you.

"Dawn, Sugar Ray, and Angelo Dundee," pages 16-17

As a newly-minted member of the West Virginia Human Rights Commission and a prominent local lawyer with a disability, I had been asked to give a speech to the 2007 Trailblazers Assistive Technology Conference being held in Flatwoods, West Virginia, at the Days Inn Convention Center off of exit 67 on I-79. The large conference hall was filled with rows upon rows of exhibits of various assistive technology devices, reminiscent of a county science fair displaying hundreds of the students’ best projects. But, one end of the hall was empty except for a raised platform where I was giving my speech to a standing crowd.

From the raised platform, I could see my audience very well. As I used my communicator to say the speech I had programmed into it, I noticed a tall, blonde woman, probably in her early forties, standing in the third row. She appeared to be completely able-bodied. Also, while not unkind or unattractive, the features of the tall blonde’s face were haughtylooking.  I had to remember not to focus on her, knowing it was important to scan around the room to maintain eye contact with all my listeners. Every time I scanned back around to where the tall blonde was, her diamond earrings gleamed at me in the bright overhead lights. The flashy earrings were large and dangling from her ears. Given the tall blonde’s haughty features and pretentious earrings, I should have known that she was about to remind me that having a speech impediment is a great political asset.

"A Speech Impediment is a Great Political Asset," pages 21-22

“If you thought that was good, you ain’t seen anything yet,” I said, using my communicator, in front of Dawn’s seminar class on discrimination law at the West Virginia University College of Law.  Professor Renee Willis, an African-American educator who came to WVU because of its tenure fast-track for women, had kindly invited me to come speak to her students. Every student, including Dawn in the firstrow, was standing and applauding my presentation on how state disability law under the West Virginia Human Rights Act has a broader application than the federal law does under the Americans with Disabilities Act. The only thing was, unbeknownst to the Professor and all of the students, even Dawn as well, I was planning to use the occasion to make the class the most memorable of the year for Dawn and her fellow third years.

"The Biggest Applause of All," page 54