Jennifer Vido Interview Author Kevin Michael Connolly

Jen’s Jewels
November 10, 2009

Kevin Michael Connolly

Life is about choices. Whether it’s something as simple as what to make for dinner or as complex as which type of chemotherapy will work best, we all have decisions to make as well as adversities to overcome. How we choose to face them determines which path in life we take. Every road has its bumps. The trick is knowing how to successfully navigate around them.

This month’s Jen’s Jewels Kevin Michael Connolly knows all too well that life is not fair. Born without two legs, he has learned in his brief twenty-four years how to turn his unfortunate circumstances into a life lesson we all can benefit from experiencing. In his poignant memoir DOUBLE TAKE, he shares with us his inspiring journey. Truly, his story is unforgettable.

As part of this interview, Harper Studio has generously donated five copies for you, my lucky readers, to win. So, don’t forget to look for the trivia question at the end. And as always, thanks for making Jen’s Jewels a part of your reading adventure.


Jen: At the age of twenty-three you penned a memoir that from start to finish defies imagination and reads much wiser than your years would suggest. Your life story to date is truly remarkable. Let’s start by talking about the unique circumstances that compelled you to tell your story publicly.
Kevin: Thanks for the opportunity to do the interview. You certainly kicked it off with a big question! I really felt compelled to write this book for a couple of reasons. I’d completed the photo series discussed in the book about a year before I began pitching my idea to publishers. The reason why I wanted to write a memoir over a more traditional, coffee-table like approach was simply because I’d get more of a voice. As far as I’d known, I’d never heard of anyone at 23 who had traveled around the world on a skateboard without legs taking photos of being stared at. The more I started to think about that accomplishment, the more I realized the importance of discussing where that strength came from.

If you want me to be totally honest, writing the book was hard as hell. Trying to be emotionally honest as an athletic 23 year-old Montanan was difficult enough, but putting all of those emotions to a page you knew would someday be read was really scary. I feel like I’ve grown up a lot just by virtue of surviving the writing process. That said, I’m so glad that I did it.

Jen: At the beginning of the book, you mention briefly how your sister Meagan fought a “silent” battle as defender of her disabled brother. In your childhood days, how did your lack of legs positively affect your relationship with both your sisters?

Kevin: I think that if anything, my lack of legs possibly solidified the familial bond. Not just between my sisters, either, but the whole family. I think that in some ways, that bond was created through dealing with all of the unwanted challenges and attention together. Maybe it’s a little like the bond I hear of between men and women in the military. Once you’ve seen and been through some nasty stuff together, that bond of friendship (or family) is strengthened.

Jen: At any point did you feel a sense of guilt knowing that your disability greatly affected your family unit as a whole? And if so, how did you overcome that guilt?
Kevin: I think that one of the smartest things that my parents did was to not let my disability greatly affect the family as a whole. I still got on the bus and went to school with my sisters. Still had the same amount of homework. Still got yelled at when I whined or shirked responsibility. I think that those very ordinary demands kept me from getting all wrapped up in guilt during my younger years.

However, I would say that at a couple of points I’ve felt guilty about the impact my not-having-legs has had on my family. Most summers in Montana are spent hiking or camping, and I remember feeling bad about not being able to keep up on some of the more strenuous hiking trips. I’m damn strong, but my stride is short and a pack is more difficult to carry when you’re only using your arms to ambulate. All of those things added up to me usually being the last in the line of people on a hike. That said, as I’ve gotten older and spoken more openly with them about it, that guilt has really dissipated. Now I sound a lot like my Dad on hiking trips. “Screw ‘em, they can wait!”

Jen: Despite your limitations, you were able to find a physical outlet that allowed your innate yearning for competition to surface. I chuckled as I read your description of the dirt bags, the men on the slopes. Please share with us your introduction to skiing and how it enabled you to find your voice within.
Kevin: I was introduced to skiing at the age of ten, and my first day was spent up at Bridger Bowl in Bozeman, MT. I think my most vivid memory of that first day (and maybe my skiing experience as a whole) was of the car ride. Helena is almost two hours west of Bridger Bowl, and I remember grudgingly eating my cereal at five-thirty during that first morning while Dad ran around the house trying to scrounge up old hunting clothes and anything that would keep us warm on the hill. Most ski days, we left Helena before the sun came up, and got back well after it’d gone down. Especially during those early days of skiing when I was still trying to get in shape, I would maybe ski only four or five hours in a day. With that in mind, as much time was spent in the car as on the slopes.

Crazy road trips aside, I think that skiing really gave me a physical outlet in which to both vent and express myself. It got me in shape and gave me more confidence. In high school especially, it allowed me to create an identity for myself that extended beyond “Kevin-the-Student” or “Kevin-the-Kid-in-the-Wheelchair” and into something much more in kind with my fellow peers. “Kevin the Skier.” The book is all about identities – both those that we occupy as well as those we throw onto others – and being a skier provided a really positive, challenging identity for me.

Jen: Your relationship with your Dad in your teen years appears to be the center core of your being. In a sense, you both set out to conquer your disability from two unique angles yet ultimately united as one in its discovery. When was the defining moment in your relationship when you knew that with your skiing, you two had found a mutual respect and admiration for each other?
Kevin: I don’t know if it really happened during skiing, to be honest. Dad – while he supported my skiing with almost religious fanaticism – still stressed that my success in school was far more important than on the ski hill. So while I admired what Dad was doing for me all of those years, I don’t think that I appreciated (or fully realized) just how much he was doing for me during that time. During the writing of the book, though, I called him on more than one occasion to thank him just for putting up with a semi-ungrateful (or not grateful enough) son and some long hours on the road.

Now things are much different, of course. Pops and I definitely have the mutual respect thing going, though it stems from a more holistic, traditional place. The basic thing with my Dad is that he’ll give all of the time and money he physically can to his kids, but he expects a hell of a lot out of them in return. So I think that he’s more admiring of the fact that I’m his 24-year-old son with a college degree; a good job; a solid work ethic; and decent moral fiber.

Jen: Growing up without two legs, you know firsthand how it feels to be living as if you are always under the microscope. Rather than dwelling on the harsh reality of your circumstances, you chose to turn it into a learning experience for all of us. Please describe for us your project.
Kevin: The Rolling Exhibition involved rolling around the world on a skateboard and chronicling the reactions people had to me in all of these different countries and cultures. The bulk of the photo project was shot over the summer of 2007, between my Junior and Senior year of college. The project involved almost 33,000 photographs and really went out to prove two things: 1.) That nearly everyone - regardless of age, location, or culture - stares at the people that spark their interest or curiosity.2.) After that initial look, people sometimes create a narrative in their heads as to why that person came to be. This is where the nuance comes in, and where I would like to turn it over to an excerpt from my artist statement that's posted at http://www.therollingexhibition.com/statement.php . It says:"Whether it is a glance or a neck twisting ogle, we look at that which does not seem to fit in our day to day lives. It is that one instant of unabashed curiosity - more reflex than conscious action - that makes us who we are and has been one of my goals to capture over the past year. It is after this instant that we try to hazard a guess as to why such an anomalous person exists. Was it disease? Was it a birth defect? Was it a landmine? These narratives all come from the context in which we live our lives. Illness, drugs, calamity, war - all of these might become potential stories depending upon what we are exposed to in connection with disability."While I think that the first objective was clearly accomplished by the photo series, the second was much better articulated in the later sections of Double Take.

Jen: Your mother seems to be the constant in your life always willing to accept any decision you make as a step in the right direction. When you made the decision to travel the world, what was going on in your mind about the way this would affect her? As a mother, I can only imagine how she must have worried about your safety.
Kevin: By the time I came to her with my idea to travel, I already knew that she’d have my back. She’ll always advise us kids, but once a decision is reached, she gets behind it. So when I called her, I was kind of hoping that she’d play against type and actually try and talk me down. I knew that I was making a big commitment to the project, and that conversation was probably my last chance to back out of the whole trip. If there’s one thing Mom’s good at, though, it’s controlling her tone and emotions. She can’t play poker to save her life, but she sure is tough to read on the phone. If she sounded worried or concerned, she didn’t let on.

Jen: In order to navigate your journey, you enlisted the aid of your “custom-built” skateboard. Describe for us your mode of transportation and how you were able to use it to serve your purpose.
Kevin: My mode of transport during this journey abroad was a Sector9 longboard (basically a heavier, longer, and more stable version of a skateboard). While I did assemble the board using my own selection of parts, the reason I chose a skateboard over a wheelchair was specifically because it wasn’t truly custom built. If I shredded a wheel on glass bottle or seized up some ball bearings in a flood, I could pull a replacement out of my backpack, or find something at a skateshop if I was in a city. Those are advantages not as easily afforded to a wheelchair, and as a result, I found that traveling on a skateboard was a much more efficient (if not attention-getting) way to get around.


Jen: Throughout the book, you have peppered each anecdote with examples of your fascinating photographs. Truly, a picture says a thousand words. Which one best encapsulates your entire experience and how so?
Kevin: Boy, I don’t know if I’d be able to answer that. While I’m dearly in love with certain photographs on an aesthetic level – the Girl on the Millennium Bridge in London, or the two Romans in Split, Croatia – I don’t think that I can single one out as best encapsulating my entire experience. I think that, if anything, the photo series is meant more to explore single reaction as it appears crystallized in all these faces around the world.

When I set out to make this project, I set out to prove a fact about human nature, and so I wanted to be as deliberate as I could in terms of creating something that looked more like a data set from a scientific study than a bunch of pretty photographs. It’s why all of the photos are taken on the same lens, from the same angle, without ever once looking through the viewfinder. I was setting rules for myself. Basically creating a system of controls in which my only variable was the bipeds walking by.

So as a result, while really love my photo project, I feel like it is ultimately more a visual preface to the ideas expressed in the book rather than its own entity. We created the endpapers to the book with just that idea in mind. All of those faces on the endpapers of Double Take serve somewhat as a Cliff Notes to the photo project itself.

Jen: I read that your photographs have been on display around the world. Are they currently on exhibit? And if so, where?
Kevin: Yes they are! I have two galleries currently traveling around the continental U.S. as well as another gallery displaying in Liverpool, UK.

Jen: I was so excited when I read about your girlfriend! Every person needs to love and be loved. In what ways has your disability made you a better partner? If you don’t mind me asking, are you currently in a relationship?
Kevin: I don’t know if I can answer that fairly or responsibly. Being born without legs, I’ve never really been in someone else’s shoes, and thus can’t really speak on whether or not my not-having-legs has had any effect on my success as a partner. I would say that I’m a constantly traveling workaholic has probably more to do with my efficacy as a partner than the legs thing!

That said, I am not currently in a relationship.

Jen: One of the most moving parts in the book for me was on page 171 where you discuss the word disabled. You write, “You are only disabled if you are incapable of overcoming the challenges presented in any given situation.” What powerful words! So true! How have you been able to incorporate these words into your everyday living?
Kevin: The way I apply those words to my life is by looking at time in small chunks. I’m a big fan of “winging it” in almost any situation – whether that’s speaking in front of a crowd or trying to adapt my way out of a new situation – so viewing disability in an ephemeral light makes a lot of sense to me. Say we’re racing through an airport. I’m going to smoke you both speed and efficiency anytime we’re on flat ground in the terminal. However, you’ll be able to laugh at me later when I’m hauling my slow butt up a flight of stairs. It’s all a tradeoff. Not better, not worse, just different.

Jen: In the book you mention that you were driving with your family alongside you in the car. What specific adaptations were made in order for you to do this?
Kevin: Automotive hand controls are actually a fairly standard device that we had installed by a small business an hour outside of my hometown. It’s basically a little lever that sits underneath the blinker on the left side of the steering wheel. Pull down for gas, and push in for brake. Try not to mix the two up.

Jen: Now that your story has been put into words, what is next for you in your life’s journey?

Kevin: Another project. This one deals a bit more with tech than photos (so images are still a big component). We’re still in prototype phase, but all I can say is that I tested out one of the rigs I’ll be using on my next bout of travel and….I can jump (really high) and run (really fast).

Jen: Finally, let’s talk about your website. Please walk us through it.
Kevin: My work on the web has really been where I put most of my early efforts. The website for The Rolling Exhibition ( www.therollingexhibition.com) was built by an old high school buddy who offered to do it for super cheap. After collaborating on the design for the site, we realized that my image needed to be in some way integrated with the website in order to understand the look on each person’s face in the photos. After my appearance on ABC’s 20/20, I remember my site crashing four or five times due to the traffic load. Since then, the link has made its way around the world, and I still get hits from Iran, Russia, and Korea, to name a few.

Since the inception of that site, I’ve created another one that works somewhat as my “mothership” online. All of my photographs (including The Rolling Exhibition and extra photos from my book Double Take) are stored on the site along with my blog and book trailer. The site is called http://www.kevinmichaelconnolly.com/ and I check up on it every day. Posting a comment on my blog or sending me a line from there is definitely the best way to get a hold of me.

Jen: To thank you for stopping by would be such a trite statement. Rather, thank you for allowing my readers the chance to view the world through a beacon of hope. Your story is truly amazing. I wish you only the best in your future endeavors. I have no doubt. You will soar.
Kevin: Thanks again, Jen. I hope everyone enjoys the book!


I hope you’ve been inspired as much as I was from reading about Kevin’s miraculous journey. Please stop by your favorite bookstore, Amazon.com, or local library branch and pick up a copy of DOUBLE TAKE today.

Better yet, would you like to win one instead? Okay, be one of the first five people to send me an e-mail at jensjewels@gmail.com with the correct answer to the following trivia question.

What is Kevin’s “custom-built” mode of transportation?

On November 20th, I will be bringing to you my interview with the award-winning mystery novelist Carolyn Hart. You won’t want to miss it.

Until next time…

Jen

Jen's Bio: When a twist of fate landed Jennifer Vido at the "Reading with Ripa" roundtable discussion with Kelly Ripa and Meg Cabot, she knew that her career as a French teacher would never be the same. A graduate of Vanderbilt University, Jennifer is a member of Romance Writers of America and reviews books for the major publishing houses, such as Random House, Penguin, and Harper Collins. Currently, she is a columnist and reviewer for www.freshfiction.com, where her popular monthly column, Jen's Jewels, also appears. As a national trainer for The Arthritis Foundation's Aquatic and Land Exercise Programs, she is an advocate for those like herself who suffer from arthritis, the nation's #1 cause of disability. In addition, she serves as Vice-chairperson of the Board of Trustees of the Harford County Public Library where she resides with her husband and two sons. She may be reached at jensjewel s@gmail.com and JenniferVido.com.