ryan schilling '02: an indomitable spirit
Open the 2002 Collegiate yearbook to page 114, and you’ll find a picture of Ryan Schilling, smiling as always, above the words which so eloquently express his indefatigable outlook on life.
If you want to accomplish something, you will find a way.
If you don’t, you will find an excuse.
Twice this morning at graduation, Ryan Schilling, smiling as always, walked proudly across the stage to receive honors he so richly deserved. First, there was the Dr. Martha E. Kolbe Award for loyalty, integrity, and determination. His faculty and classmates, then the large crowd in attendance, rose to offer a heartfelt ovation. A few minutes later, he accepted his Collegiate diploma, a tangible reminder that great things come to those who weather the storm.
To Ryan, his family, and a legion of stalwart friends and admirers, the emotional moments represented much, much more than the end of his high school career. Instead, they signified a monumental rite of passage, a celebration of 15 months of extraordinary achievement, of courageously defying the odds, of nobly facing life’s daunting challenges and refusing to capitulate. Simply put, this moving ceremony marked a glorious victory of the human spirit.
Ryan’s story is well known around the Collegiate campus. Late on the afternoon of March 4, 2001, he developed a severe headache, was rushed to St. Mary’s Hospital, and underwent emergency surgery to repair an arteriole venus malformation. In layman’s terms, he suffered a cerebral hemorrhage that left him paralyzed on his right side. He lay in a coma for five very long days, his future, if not his survival, in question.
After ten days in intensive care, he moved to a private room, then to Children’s Hospital where he remained for five weeks receiving physical therapy to strengthen his legs, occupational therapy for his arms, and speech therapy concentrating on his cognitive rehabilitation.
In early April, he walked using the parallel bars. In May, he could navigate with a cane. Once home, he returned to school in a wheelchair a couple of days a week, more for socialization than for academic purposes, and in June, he finally scrapped the cane. Early on, he had difficulty even recognizing letters of the alphabet, but in tiny increments, his intellectual faculties returned.
Though his progress was positive and his resolve was strong, there were, however, still uncertainties about his potential. Somewhere along the way in a weekly meeting , the rehabilitation team cautioned the Schillings that Ryan probably couldn’t return to Collegiate and that they should consider special education elsewhere.
When medical science said he couldn't, Ryan said, in effect, I can.
Throughout the summer, Ryan, now moving without his cane, religiously continued his physical rehab and received intensive tutoring in hopes of getting him back on track academically. Although there was no transcendent moment or quantum leap, by August he had improved so much that the possibility of realigning with his class was no longer a dream.
Back in school full time, he attacked his academics with a vengeance and availed himself of a few accommodations such as extra time for an occasional test and one-on-one help when necessary. Though his ·teachers were sensitive to his situation, no one cut him slack. True to his spirit, he expected none.
This spring with an acceptance letter to Hampden-Sydney in his file, he completed his senior project as an aide at Children's Hospital. He's walked the walk, and he brought empathy and expertise to his chosen assignment.
Traveling a path that's been long and devious, Ryan has succeeded because he has the right stuff. He is incredibly tenacious and indefatigable, and he blends a seriousness of purpose with optimism, a delightful sense of humor, and an absolute refusal to submit to self-pity. And even in the darkest days, he always manages to find a way.
