I actually picked up this book thinking it was authored by Chaim Potok. When I brought it home from the library, I very nearly did not read it due to my disappointment of it's authorship. However, after scanning the jacket of the book I decided to read at least the beginning. To make a long story short I ended up finishing the book the same day which I started it. It turned out to have a similar theme from one of Chaim Potok's books, namely a Jewish artist, who goes against his familiy's wishes and becomes a success in the world of art. I was very surprised at how the words just flew off the pages and led the reader on a roller coaster ride of emotions. Now my biggest disappointment is that, apparently, this is but one of two works that the author ever wrote.

Potok seems to discard the valid hope of alleviating the suffering of chronic spinal-cord injury. As a researcher, I know for a fact that these are not "false" hopes! Sure, don't sit and wait for them, live your life to the best of your ability, but research is making progress every single day, so I say to Potok, that's great that you're pressing for the equal rights of the disabled and have moved on and made a fulfilling life for yourself, but don't sit there and discourage other disabled people who have valid reason to look forward to not a all out "cure", but a greatly enhanced quality of life with some lost function restored! I don't feel you got in contact with some of the pioneering researchers abroad and in the US regarding spinal-cord injury therapies.

I surprised myself by liking this book so much. I bristle at any suggestion that because I'm disabled my life needs changing, and gagged at the description of the book as "inspiring" on the dust jacket.

Potok has chapters on some people I was familiar with (through writings) and others not. Among them are Chai Feldblum, Mary Lou Breslin, Ted Henter (creator of JAWS software, Adrienne Asch, Rosemarie Garland Thomson, and others. There's lots of fascinating information, but not the simplistic suggestion that the rest of us could (or should) make equivalent contributions if only we tried hard enough. Potok, a blind painter, and most of his interviewees are too socially conscious for that. They recognize the deep-rooted nature of inequality inside and outside the United States, and that some people are making a difference.
Potok, like us all, is capable of saying things that are wrong (p. 219: "Most of the disabled {in the Third World} use wheelchairs") [Millions with brain damage from malnutrition, and millions with PTSD from natural and human-made disasters haven't had their disabilities diagnosed] and others that make sense, but it's unclear where the information is from (also p. 219: "90 percent of those who need {wheelchairs} don't have them.")

But the book is certain to bring important ideas to a general readership. Potok is brilliant in writing about disability as a component of diversity. His introspection and learning from his interviewees is evident. Readers will have the privilege of learning from his interviewees and from Potok. I know that I did.