I sat in the bleachers, eyes glued on my father as he dashed up and down the soccer field, somehow managing to keep up with 22 high school boys who were fiercely competing for a win.

Nearly 30 ago, I stopped doing the thing I loved the most—singing. I let it go one bleak afternoon while pulled over on the side of the road in my old beat-up Toyota. Tears streaming down my face, I was convinced I just wasn’t good enough to keep going.

I’ve always felt that attention was the currency of love. Yet, so too is emotional attunement, which we might receive from the most unlikely people. We’re so quick to put people into categories, and our worst offense is the limiting way we tend to view those who are differently-abled.