On a special night, I’m heading back to dance, cheer, and yes, shine

At first, this columnist wasn't sold on the idea of a global prom night

Written by Connie Chandler |

Banner for Connie Chandler's column

For the past two years, my friend Pam and I have attended Night to Shine, a special prom event held in cities around the world on the same night, created by the Tim Tebow Foundation to celebrate and honor people with disabilities. This year it takes place on Feb. 13.

The first year Pam invited me, I hesitated and even cringed a little. While my diagnosis of spinal muscular atrophy (SMA) technically puts me in the category of “people with disabilities,” I knew the foundation largely focuses on serving people with cognitive and developmental disabilities. I have dear friends who have these diagnoses, and I’m thankful organizations and ministries exist to care for their well-being. But because our needs are so different, it’s hard for me to identify with or relate to them under the vast umbrella of “disability.”

In the end, Pam convinced me to go because it’s a great excuse to get “dolled up,” go dancing with your best friend, and have your picture taken with the incredibly good-looking Tim Tebow, a former NFL quarterback.

Recommended Reading
Banner for Connie Chandler's column

Why can’t my new wheelchair help me dance?

‘What am I doing here?’

Our local Night to Shine event is hosted by Pam’s church and held in a big venue with a fancy car showroom. When we arrived at that first one, we joined a long queue of people who were slowly working their way toward the welcome table. I looked around at my peers, of all shapes, sizes, and ages, wearing everything from princess prom dresses to sequined jumpsuits, all accompanied by a caregiver or two. I smiled and complimented a few on their outfits, but mostly just felt awkward.

“What am I doing here?” I wondered.

At the welcome table, we received lanyards and gift bags, then were directed to a red carpet lined on both sides by applauding volunteers and actual cheerleaders. They put a plastic tiara on my head and cheered as I rolled onto the carpet. I know their intention was to make me feel special, but I just sped along as fast as I could, embarrassed by all the attention and worried that I’d tangle up or tear the carpet!

Two women are beaming with smiles as they pose in front of a Tim Tebow cutout, with white, gold, and black balloons. Both are casually dressed, and the woman on the left is in a power wheelchair while the woman on the right stands with one arm on the chair and the other on her hip.

Columnist Connie Chandler, left, and friend Pam Leeper pose with a life-sized cardboard cutout of former NFL quarterback Tim Tebow at Night to Shine 2024. (Courtesy of Connie Chandler)

Needless to say, I firmly turned down the “opportunity” to be announced by name on stage and have my own spotlight moment. Instead, we met up with a few friends, played bingo, looked at the cars, made goofy faces in the photo booth, listened to some karaoke acts, and yes, got a photo with a life-sized cutout of our darling Tim.

We had dinner and watched the other participants walk across the stage, all of them beaming with pride and joy in their crowns and tiaras. That’s when it hit me that they needed this night; they needed to know that they are beautiful and amazing, and worth being celebrated. Society may judge them by their behavior or appearance, but this was a positive and safe space for them. And everyone there truly recognized that they have something special and good to contribute to the world.

I’d been focusing so much on how different we were that I’d forgotten what we have in common. Sure, we all have limitations that require extra assistance and modified access, but we also have an inner beauty and strength — buried under spasming muscles, paralyzed limbs, weak vision, slurred speech, and anxious ticks — that craves to be seen and valued.

We spent the rest of the evening on the fringes of the crowded dance floor, jamming out to big hits by Miley Cyrus and Cupid, laughing and embracing the fact that we are all weird and complicated and remarkable and alive.

On the drive home, I assured Pam that I’d had a good time and was glad I went, but didn’t feel like I fit in as an attendee. “I don’t really want to be treated like a queen or be the center of attention,” I said. At the same time, I saw so much love and joy being poured out and received, and I want to continue being part of that magic.

So, this weekend, Pam and I will put on our fancy dresses again, do our hair and makeup, and show up to dance our socks off with hundreds of new friends. We will cheer for the kings and queens of the ball. We’ll celebrate the diversity of abilities represented there, recognizing each of them as unique and wonderful.

Oh, and yes, we’ll definitely get our picture with Tim Tebow again.


Note: SMA News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of SMA News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to spinal muscular atrophy.

Leave a comment

Fill in the required fields to post. Your email address will not be published.