Crutching It: Climbing Four Flights to Math Class
Crutches, Calculus, and Too Many Stairs: Lessons I Didn’t Expect to Learn
Picture this: a campus perched on a steep hill in Chattanooga, Tennessee, built for guys with strong legs, lots of energy, and maybe superhero stamina. That’s McCallie. Now throw in a new kid (me), a pair of crutches, and a rainy winter after a car accident, and you’ve got a recipe for discouragement. What should have been a time to learn all the fun on campus became a daily fight for survival. Especially when your classroom is on the fourth floor—with no elevator.
My biggest challenge wasn’t Honors Pre-Calculus or fitting in as the new guy. It was making it to class. Four flights of stairs. On crutches. With a head injury, a broken left ankle, and many other injuries. My doctors said to take it slow and avoid stress. Sure—because nothing says "relax" like a daily stair marathon in a boot cast!
At first, I focused on one thing: not falling. Every step was calculated - crutches, body, repeat. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked. Over time, though, I stopped thinking about just getting to the top. I started noticing the privilege of being able to move at all. My surgeon said I could put weight on my ankle again soon, and that hope kept me going. But as I climbed those stairs, I thought about people for whom this kind of struggle is not temporary. That realization hit harder than any math problem.
Every step became a lesson in gratitude. I started appreciating things I had taken for granted, like simply walking. My classmates cheered me on, my teachers offered encouragement, and while I hated needing help, I knew I couldn’t do it alone.
Some days, getting to class felt impossible. My legs shook, my ankle throbbed, and even my “good” knee ached. But every time I made it to my seat, surrounded by the buzz of my classmates, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I was still here. I still had this. Even the icy wind on my legs—since long pants didn’t work with my boot—felt like a reminder I’d been given another chance.
This wasn’t the McCallie experience I had imagined.I thought I would be crushing it on the #1 swim team in Tennessee, not hobbling up staircases with a broken nose and a head injury. But in a way, it taught me more than I ever expected. Resilience isn’t something you wake up with, it’s built, one slow, frustrating step at a time.
At JH Ranch, Bruce Johnston said to me, "Pain is the gift nobody wants." Pain is not something we want, but it shapes us in ways we would never choose, and might never regret. If every step feels like a struggle, trust me, I’ve been there. Keep going. The climb might be tough, but the lessons you learn along the way will stick with you long after the pain fades. It’s not about what happens at the top. It’s about how you got there.