Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Disability provides a journey of discovery and determination for Roanoke boy
Patrick Henry freshman Max Davidson doesn't let disability define or limit him.

Courtesy of Allison Davidson
Max Davidson (right), who was born with a left arm that stops at the elbow, plays soccer and runs track and cross country for Patrick Henry High School. Max made the varsity soccer team as a freshman and has started every game this year.
For as long as Max Davidson's mother can remember, Max has been kicking around a soccer ball.
"His dad used to play, so we always had a ball around for him and his brothers to play with," Allison Davidson said.
Max's parents encouraged his involvement in sports, and along with soccer, he also was signed up for T-ball.
So far, that description could fit any number of young boys. This story, however, is different.
When Max was born 15 years ago, the growth of his left arm was stunted, stopping at the elbow.
"We'll never be completely sure what happened," Allison said. "But in the womb there is amniotic fluid that can form a band."
That band can, in some cases, stunt the growth of an appendage, such as what happened to Max.
"It was the beginning of a journey," she said. "I knew all along that it was going to be a journey that we would have to figure out together."
Max, a freshman at Patrick Henry High School, said sometimes he does get dismayed about his disability, but it also has taught him other things.
"I know things can be better for some people and worse for some," he said. "It isn't a weakness. It might be a strength. ... It's just -- it's all I've ever known."
He also has learned not to limit himself. He loves sports and is a center forward on the varsity soccer team. He also runs track and cross country.
'Special plans' in store
When Max was little and at the grocery store or park, kids would point him out to their parents and ask why he was different. The parents would blush and apologize and whisk their child away. Afterward, Allison would try to find them.
She would explain to them that it was OK to ask questions and then she would tell them what had happened to Max.
"I would tell them that God made Max special and he has special plans for him."
Allison believed that as Max grew up he would mimic how she responded to other people's reactions, so she was always careful not to get angry.
"I didn't want Max to grow up being angry at the world. The world won't change for Max. Max is going to have to change the world."
Allison taught Max not to use his arm as an excuse and would point out other people who were missing some part of their arm or leg to show Max that there were others like him. She also found articles on people like Max to show him if he ever got too upset or felt too different.
"But you know what?" she said, proudly, "I don't think I ever needed to show him those articles."
Allison talks with excitement about his accomplishments and the respect she has for Max, who is the oldest of three children.
"I'll never touch people like he does. I'll never make a difference in people's lives like that. Yes, I do believe that there is a reason [for Max's handicap]."
Growing up she wanted Max to believe it, too. "I used to tell him, 'Maybe you'll be the fastest man in the world.' "
Always working hard
Max may not be the fastest man in the world, but he did make the varsity soccer team as a freshman. He has started every game this year and has one goal and one assist.
During a recent hot Friday afternoon, the team started to pack things up just after noon. Max and his teammate, Ryan Landis, a sophomore at Patrick Henry, seemed excited to leave cleanup to their teammates while they talked about the team's season so far.
They offered a quick boast about the team's record. They're 9-1 after last week's games and 5-0 in the Western Valley District. Landis said that he and Max have been playing together for eight or nine years and describes their friendship in a joking manner.
"Well, I tie his cleats every day."
Shoe tying is one of the few things that Max has difficulty with. That and cutting steak. Other than that, Max said, his life is pretty typical.
He also appreciates the way his parents brought him up.
"I never expected or wanted to be treated differently," he said. Even now, "People see me as Max, not as someone who is 'disabled' or [as someone] who needs someone to care for them."
His mother agrees.
"It sounds crazy," she said with a laugh, "but even I don't notice a lot of the time. The other day Max and I were looking through old pictures of him and his brothers and there was this one and I just couldn't tell which child it was. And Max laughed at me and said, 'Well, you know it's not me. That kid has two hands!' "
Humor is one way that Max approaches his disability, and he jokes about his arm on purpose sometimes.
"I like to joke around about it to make it less awkward for other people, and that I'm not the kind of person that is just going to freak out if you ask me questions about it."
He also doesn't mind accepting help from others because, at times, he needs it. But he's sometimes nervous to ask for it.
Friends and family say that one of the most remarkable things about Max is how he refuses to let his disability define him.
"To Max, it isn't an obstacle. It doesn't affect him," said his dad, Doug. "He has always been strong and worked hard at everything, he just ... carries forward."
Although Max sees himself as a typical teenager, he also realizes that some people may be inspired by what he does.
"It's always in the back of my mind," he said. "I don't think about it and I don't let if affect me, but maybe, by doing something with one hand, people will see that they can certainly try and do it with two."




