John Man has a rare disability. Although he finds it frustrating, he makes do with what he has and lives life as best he can.
He enjoys basketball and has worked hard at becoming the best basketball player he could be. After several years of effort he is now about as good as most other kids, enjoying the sport at a relatively advanced level for his age.
When a news crew came to film an uplifting self-help gush story about his unbreakable spirit and phenomenal determination to succeed, they were disappointed to find that he didn’t really have those things.
“I don’t understand,” said one interviewer. “This disabled kid is not an inspiration to us all. His determination to succeed is about the same as mine.”
Though the interviewer asked as many leading questions as she could to elicit some type of Twitter friendly life motto that Man has casually gleaned from a lifetime of inspirational courage, she soon realised it didn’t sound that impressive coming from someone with an undramatic disability and such a regular life. She swiftly moved on to the next town where a baby with no brain had taught itself Esperanto on parallel bars.
Though Man insisted he was just like any regular person, he was not deemed unique enough for this claim to sound self-effacing, humble, and inspirational. Instead, it came across as accurate, leaving reporters unable to spin his story into a short and emotionally wrenching video for lazy able-bodied slops to feel inspired and quote at parties as if they personally knew him.
Despite the overwhelming pressure to achieve mastery in some unexpected field or pioneer an unlikely combination of talents with nonchalant ease, Man plans to finish school and get a job that he enjoys doing. He eventually hopes to live a life that satisfies his needs and desires, hopefully with a long and healthy relationship with someone he loves and who loves him in return.