Most people have the luxury of choosing change. Others have their lives turned inside out by the sudden rupture of a tiny blood vessel, a violent accident, or the insidious disintegration of vital nerves and muscles. The response to this unexpected alteration can be a turning away from life, or a choice like that made by students at the Center to re-create a life anew. To choose re-creation demands a kind of courage little understood in our youth-oriented society and rarely acknowledged by those who are used to cheering athletes and action figures. The students at the Center have been challenged by life-threatening illness and required to recreate their lives at the very time when retirement and rest might have been more in their plans. In the midst of weakness and pain, with friends and family often mystified and confused by their altered physical appearance and abilities, they have put aside a lifetime of habits, expectations, and actions that no longer work and are building a whole new way of being in the world. Their daily heroism is inspirational to all who visit the Center.

When asked whether or not they would recommend the Center to others and whether the Center should be replicated, responses were like these:

I invite anyone who has had a stroke to come to the Center, it’s the right place for you. It can help you in many ways. I had a big stroke. I could not talk. I could not say one word. I couldn’t walk. I came to the Center to exercise and to meet people who are in the same place as I am.

I have had lots of therapy and I have been to Stroke Clubs east and west. No place compares to here.

I try to use my lessons at home all the time. Which is so important because one side of my body is dead and if I don’t concentrate on using my lessons, I get worse.

I have learned that if I don’t do things for myself I will lose the ability to do them. I have to use every part of my body and my mind even if it is easier not to, in order to keep stable and secure.

I like everything about the Center. It’s a real learning experience for everyone.

My doctor recommended the Center and it was the best thing he ever did for me. You know the general population has a lot of selfish people. But, there are no selfish people up here. It’s changed my life—my way of thinking. Matter of fact, I would recommend it to anyone. I was always on the look out for people to cheat me and no one even irritates me up here!

When I first came up here, my head felt like there was a bunch of jelly jiggling around in my cranium. Now, I can think clearly. There are a lot of things I can do now that I couldn’t do when I first came up here--such as technical work. I am running all the big tools in my shop now again. And, I’m getting the use of my hands back. I’ve got some balance problems yet. But, we have lots of classes up here to help with my balance.

Nobody knows when they are going to have a stroke. I was perfectly healthy until one afternoon when I just couldn’t talk.

If I didn’t have the Center, I’d be sitting at home. The Center would deter me from moving away from Santa Cruz. Because there aren’t any Centers like this any where else and there should be. It’s a good way to utilize tax money. I don’t mind paying taxes as long as I think it’s going for something useful.

I love to paint now. When I started up here I couldn’t tell one color from another and now I’m even taking private classes.

The Center helped me to develop a comfort zone with myself. Physically, the guided exercises provided by one of the instructors in the mobility department helped me to get my shoulder unfrozen. She also assisted me with bending exercises and learning to walk on uneven ground.

I made friends. It’s very hard to be marginalized in a culture and area where fitness and health reigns. I’m young and I don’t quite fit in either the “healthy” or the disability cultures where most of the stroke survivors are older than I am. It’s a very real issue that will become more of a challenge as more and more boomers acquire disabilities.

I still take ceramics classes at the Center and next semester I’ll begin taking them on the main campus. The creative side of my brain had been unused for too long. I love my creative self. It’s a subtle but crucial part of my self-esteem. Everyone’s focus in both the ceramics and silk classes is on something bigger than themselves. A very special group bonding occurs when all the participants are quiet and focused. You can feel the group process.

Without the center pushing and confronting me to establish new coping strategies, I would probably still be at home. I’m talking and walking more normally. I have developed and I hope I helped others develop more empathy and understanding for invisible disabilities.

I’m not from here. I’m from Seattle. I came to visit my daughter and I had a stroke. Thank God for this place. I knew absolutely no one in Santa Cruz except for my daughter. People are wonderful. If you are new and you don’t know anyone, people are so friendly that before you know it, you just want to hug everyone here--especially the teachers. You can talk to them about anything. I can’t say enough about this place.

Teachers and students accept you completely. You are valued. It gives you back the feeling that you are worth something.

At the Center you get community support from other students You get support from staff. You get encouragement if you are having difficulty. You are given a program to fit your needs. I like the relaxation classes that relieve anxiety around my diagnosis of Parkinsons. I have learned to accept the Parkinsons so I can focus on strengthening my mind and my body.

There’s other people around that have the same challenges and abilities. We all go down the same road and face our challenges. We do it together. In classes we all give each other support. In support groups we are able to express our feelings and support each other. And outside the groups we help each other when we are feeling down. In exercise groups we become cheer leaders when things get difficult.

Speech classes –I’m in them now—the speech teacher, I can’t say enough about her, she has helped me to breath differently so I can project and my voice will get better and people can hear. I practice the exercises at home and it really helps. Also if you are having problems with writing, they do a writing class. The speech department is wonderful. The memory classes are great too. There are lots of ideas about how to play games in your mind to bring a lost word to mind.

I’ve learned that I can’t do it alone. I thought I was going to be able to fight this by myself and I’ve learned that I need the help of other people in the same situation and a community that cares about me. I’ve learned that it’s ok to be just me and not pretend to be someone I’m not.

If there wasn’t a Center, I would be isolating at home watching TV, eating, and not talking to people and not wanting to go out in public because I was ashamed of being in a wheelchair and shaking.

I taught piano for years. And I’ve had a stroke. The benefits here are phenomenal. When you have had a stroke, you have your own kind of symptoms and experience. I’m learning everything at the Center that I think is valuable.

It’s been wonderful showing up with Mya and seeing people who knew me when I wasn’t speaking. This was a place I could come and say ok I’m here—a little broken—but here I’m accepted and always have been.

Out in the world, my friends are fast and hurried. My perspective is different now. And what we do in the world of children--everyone does here at the Center. We should start with care and dignity and end with care and dignity. We don’t treat our children or our elders well with dignity.

Being forced to slow down, certainly gives you a different view of life. Before I came here, I had a certain amount of fear of old people. That was a big realization. Sometimes you’re just talking to someone up here and you discover it’s a living history. You were what?? You were where?? One of the worst things that has happened in our culture is the elimination of extended family. Being here is like an extended family. I’m grateful to get past my physical stuff here and just as important was getting past my fear of older people. The experience of the stroke, was more traumatic than the cancer I experienced. I couldn’t do any of the things that people my age could do. I could see fear in other people’s eyes when I couldn’t talk to them. Now, when I see a homeless or disabled person, I don’t avoid eye contact anymore. I smile and chat when possible. I really changed my behavior. I want my daughter to accept people.

At quite a young age, I became quadriplegic after an infection settled at the top of my spine and when they went in to take out the infection, I woke up several days later and could not move any part of my body. I could just barely make my face work. I was 18 months, flat on my back or in a wheelchair. The ceiling got really boring! And when I could finally move about on my own and get out of the wheelchair, my doctor told me about this wonderful place that I’d actually heard of before because my husband had a stroke and had come up here. By the end of 2006, I will have been coming here for 10 years. It’s my community. It’s a place where all of us, no matter how long or how short a time we’ve been here, become each other’s cheering section. The peer support is cheerful—“hooray for your success,” “keep on trying,” “you can do it.” There’s a curriculum worked out that will help you get your home safe for you to live in. There are classes titled coping with disability. And from there we go from coping with ability and getting brave enough to get out into the community. And the repeated exercise classes seem to wake up dead muscles. When I did regain control of my extremities, my left hand didn’t come back. But, six years later, to everyone’s surprise, I could make my left index finger move in a circle! It still requires a direct act of will, but it will do that! I picked up my crochet book again. And, I promised my daughter needle point seat covers for her dining room chairs.

All communities should encourage their community colleges to begin a program. A community college has a commitment to serve the needs in their community. And all communities have needs to better serve seniors and those with disabilities. And, we vote!