Why I Chose Recreation Therapy

“Why are you breathing like that?” the nurse asked me when I woke up. Lying on the operating table in Harlem Hospital’s emergency room, I responded, “so I can distract myself from the pain.” My focus on breathing carried me through a 10-week stay in the hospital following a cooking accident that left me with a major burn injury on October 6, 2020 and destroyed the protective layer of skin on 30% of my body. My breathing provided mental solace and strength in moments of great discomfort: enduring daily bandage changes, regaining movement in physical therapy, and relentless itching while my skin was healing. After I was released from New York Presbyterian Hospital in December 2020, my breath took a new form, eventually propelling me across the finish line at the New York City Marathon in November 2021. 

  My first run after my accident was on a chilly winter day in December. During this run, I realized that connecting my breathing with my movement helped me to process the emotional pain of my injury and boosted my confidence to take on new challenges. This realization motivated me to complete my first marathon. Training in the months leading up to the race showed me how powerful I was, regardless of my new scars and limited mobility. Running became something I could rely on everyday to provide me peace in a time of uncertainty as I continued to undergo additional surgeries and attend countless doctor appointments. 

Not only did running help me cope with pain and center myself, but it connected me to a diverse community of runners that I had not known before my accident. I was amazed at the diversity I saw and the camaraderie I felt during my early morning runs in New York City parks. I saw runners who were paraplegic, skinny, muscular, slow, big, speedy, and even blind. These differences, which might normally set us apart, did not matter on our morning runs. What mattered was that we were each pushing ourselves at our own levels of ability to feel stronger through movement. 

          I also noticed the role of movement in connecting groups of people as part of my role as a Nutrition Educator for the SNAP-Ed program at the non-profit BronxWorks. The program provides nutrition education services to SNAP recipients and SNAP-eligible populations in the Bronx. Working at BronxWorks, I learned that some people feel ostracized or unable to be physically active in traditional settings. For example, in my workshops at BronxWorks Older Adult Centers, many people lived with chronic diseases and used wheelchairs and canes. In order to allow everyone to move together during my workshops, I chose inclusive exercises that participants could do either seated or standing. After one such workshop, I gave everyone a pedometer. After I distributed them, a participant in a wheelchair asked me, “what do I do with the pedometer?” I was taken aback then realized that I had not recognized how my pedometer idea excluded those who could not walk. This encounter reminded me that activity limitations are not uncommon and that many people who live with a disability are often excluded from physical activity. 

As a recreational therapist, I want to work towards breaking down these restrictions for individuals with disabilities. I hope to encourage all people with disabilities to feel confident seeking out leisure activities to embrace a satisfaction similar to my own experience of joining breath and movement when I run. I want to provide encouragement for them to consider new things in life that may bring them joy, while still acknowledging that in the potentially painful situations they are in, it is sometimes hard to imagine other ways of life. Through thoughtful inclusive recreational activities we can create moments of peace, connection and possibility.