Trial by Fire: Moebius Syndrome, Social Work, & Law School
‘Can she shut up? She’s annoying.”
“Why do you sound like that?”
“You sound stupid.”
Standing in front of three mock judges for 1L moot court at the University of Texas School of Law, these words, and the feelings they evoked, were unavoidable, even as I stared down at my oral argument outline. Consolidating my anxiety into a tidy box is an ongoing battle. While many people fear public speaking generally, I am deeply familiar with the shock and confused stares of people who expected “normal” and instead spoke to me, someone with Moebius Syndrome, a neurological condition that impacts the cranial nerves. In my case, my tongue and bottom lip are the primary areas affected. My tongue is mostly paralyzed. I battle my anxiety, forged through years of unkindness, bullying, and fighting for my place in spaces people thought I didn’t belong.
I know, as simply a matter of fact, that I sound different. However, when I talk, I hear a normal voice. Cameras and recordings expose the truth of the matter. Ever since I first heard my voice recorded, I’ve been keenly aware of it. I know that my mouth moves differently than yours, and my face, though not as obviously paralyzed as some of my community members’, looks a bit different in its own small ways. My body can’t accomplish all the same things a “normal” body can accomplish.
My journey to law school and my desire to advocate for other people were forged in metaphorical fire. I know what it feels like to be underestimated, and I went through many phases growing up where I had to fight to make sense of myself and my place in the world. Law school, so far, has been a similar experience. The irony of my desire to advocate for others is that my voice is one of my greatest insecurities when I’m around people I don’t know well. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve spent lots of time trying to accept myself for what I am. Over time, I’ve gotten really good at handling other people’s thoughts and expectations of me too. As a social worker, you hear a lot of stuff from a lot of people. And some people have no filter. That experience was invaluable to me before starting law school, though, and studying and practicing social work taught me how to communicate in these situations.
That being said, doing the actual work of becoming an advocate is terrifying. I hear the voices that have built up over the years, the self-doubt, the imposter syndrome, and the deep-seated feeling that I ended up somewhere I don’t belong. I’m not the best public speaker, but I want to be better. I want to exist in a world where my voice is a sword that fights on behalf of children who deserve more than what they have. But along the way, I have to remind myself that it isn’t my job to be someone else: a person who is more confident, more “normal,” or more intelligent. I am who I am, and the only way I will get better at the things I am bad at is if I force myself to be uncomfortable. Law school is a trial by fire. It’s so challenging partly because a room full of people who are used to being towards the tops of their classes are suddenly competing against each other for everything, and someone has to lose. It’s the nature of the game due to the curve, and all activities have limited slots. If you’ve put stock in your academic abilities as part of your identity, what happens when suddenly you’re in an environment where you can’t rely on that anymore?
The work of becoming a lawyer has been enjoyable. It’s almost been emotionally grueling, especially considering the fact that life has thrown its own curveballs that many of my classmates don’t have to deal with. I’ve also realized that I don’t know myself as well as I thought I did. I’m not sure what exactly I want for myself. More importantly, I’m starting to wonder where I fit in and whether my goals are still the same.
But either way, I will keep pushing through. I know that the Moebius community can do hard things. Growth happens in discomfort, and I’ve gotten better at learning how to sit with those feelings. In the spring, I will take trial advocacy, an entire class focused on 1.) improving your presence as an advocate and 2.) teaching trial skills. It is the one thing I know I really need to do, but I am scared to do it. Being judged based on my greatest insecurity sounds deeply uncomfortable.
That being said, if any young folks with Moebius are considering professional careers of any kind, I encourage you to take the leap. It can be unsettling at times, but we need more representation in these fields, and no one understands clients better than those who have shared similar lived experiences.
Shared by Heaven Baylor
