It came as a big surprise when Andrew Jansen asked me to join the Vanier graduating class on their special day, and I feel honored to have been invited. I have known Andrew for just over a year, but in that short time I have been impressed with the poise, sophistication, and sense of excellence that Andrew possesses. I am sure all of the graduates will agree with me when I say that these exceptional qualities were obtained at this outstanding school, and each graduate here today is an example of the excellence that this school displays to the community.

Less than a year ago, I was in the exact same situation that you are facing today. You are busy planning for next year, and at times the decisions can be overwhelming. The choices that you will soon make will affect the rest of your life. Many of you have made the decision to further your education, while others have opted to take some time off, or to head directly into the workforce. Whatever choice you have made, there are undoubtedly many fears and that feeling of anxiousness. For all of you , the next year will be a time of adjustment. If you will be moving away, you may be leaving your family and friends behind. With that comes uncertainty. I had many of the same worries that you have, but let me assure you that everything will be just fine. Despite all of my worries, I have had the time of my life in the past year. Today I will be sharing many of my stories, and hopefully by listening to what I have endured, you will obtain the knowledge that will help you deal with the situations you will soon be facing.

As I look around this room today, I realize that every person in this world must face some sort of adversity in a lifetime. For the first fourteen years of my life, I was very fortunate. I managed to get by without encountering many obstacles. I had a passion for life that I demonstrated by participating in sports and by studying hard in school. I drifted through each day having fun and living without a care in the world.

Then with a snap of the fingers, my life changed dramatically. On April 19^th, 1996, my perfect world came crashing down. I woke up that morning unable to move my legs. I was taken to the hospital where my condition continued to deteriorate. After several hours I was diagnosed with a rare condition called an Arteriovenous Malformation, or AVM. My parents were told that I had to have emergency surgery, and that there was a good chance that I would not live through it. We were asked to gather our family together so that we could say goodbye to each other. All of these events happened in a matter of hours. The frustration and fear gripped my family. There was so much uncertainty and so many unanswered questions. In the last minutes that I spent with my family before I was taken into the operating room, I realized just how precious life really is, and how often it is taken for granted. My only hope was that it was not too late to change my outcome.

I woke up from that eight-hour operation in Intensive Care unable to move , dependant on a ventilator to breathe for me, and in an intense amount of pain. But somehow I was glad to be alive.

I spent the next few weeks hooked up to machines in the Intensive Care ward in Regina. I was paralyzed from the neck down and completely dependent on other people to help me with even the simplest of tasks. I hated the fact that I could not function on my own. Before my injury, sports defined my identity, and I felt that if I could not compete, my life was meaningless. I was frustrated, angry, and most of all hopeless. I spent many hours asking questions like "Why did this happen to me?", and "What did I do wrong in my life to deserve this?". I was very unhappy and at times I wished that I had not made it through the operation.

During the many, many, many hours that I spent in the hospital, I had the opportunity to discover who the true ‘Lisa Franks’ is. I thought about my past and what I had accomplished. I was disappointed when I realized that I really had not achieved much with my life. I had not helped other people, I had not made a difference in anyone’s life, and I had not truly lived every moment to the fullest extent possible. This realization upset me. I had always said that when the day arrives that I leave this earth, I want to have few regrets, and I want to know that I had accomplished something. I made it a goal to do something with my life. The first step towards this goal was a new attitude. I stopped feeling sorry for myself and decided to look for the silver in every cloud. I decided to focus all of my attention on regaining the use of my upper body.

I spend hundreds of hours in occupational and physiotherapy, often working through intense pain. The process was slow and frustrating, yet somehow I remained focused. One particular memory I recall is the triumph I felt when I ate my first chocolate bar without the help of a single person. To any onlookers, the situation must have been extremely funny….the only way I could eat was by lying flat on my back, having someone place the chocolate bar on my face, and then using the limited function in my arms to shove the bar in my mouth. It took nearly half an hour to eat that chocolate bar, and you can imagine how much of the chocolate had melted on my face by that time, but I was ecstatic because it gave me hope. To this day, I have never had anything taste as sweet as that Crispy Crunch.

With every other little victory, I began to believe in my abilities and myself once again. It’s amazing when a simple task such as enjoying a chocolate bar can bring so much to look forward to. With each personal triumph that I accomplished during the toughest times in my life, I gained strength and focus for my goal. Gradually I achieved that goal, and was able to live independently once again.

The toughest obstacle that I had to overcome was my lack of confidence. The transition into high school can be dramatic for anyone, but for myself it was terrifying. I had to change my plans to attend Central Collegiate so that I could go to the only wheelchair accessible school in the city. This meant that I had to deal with leaving my friends, as well as many other changes that accompany an injury such as mine. For the longest time I was not the secure person that you see before you today. I felt that society would treat me as an outsider and I could never envision myself fitting in. I distinctly remember being scared to speak in front of my class, and when someone would address me, I would answer quietly and look at the ground. Whenever somebody befriended me, I became suspicious and figured they were just being nice because they felt sorry for me. Somehow I made it through my first year of high school, but it was not easy. I buried myself in my schoolwork, achieved the highest average at my school, but I was still very unhappy. I wanted more out of life.

The thing I am most grateful for is the day that I was introduced to a man named Clayton Gerein. For those of you who have never heard of Clayton, he is a Paralympic athlete who has won numerous awards and honors. He approached me and asked if I would like to give wheelchair sports an attempt. I desperately missed being active so of course I jumped at the chance. Poor Clayton had know idea what he had gotten himself into. I started playing full contact rugby. Now for those of you who have never witnessed the game, consider yourself lucky. Rugby is a mixture of hockey and football where the intent of the game is to bash the heck out of your opponents. Believe me, the game was wonderful for taking out my frustrations. But somehow the idea of grown men smashing their chairs into me to see how far I would fly didn’t quite appeal to me. After a year or two of hearing my teammates exclaim "Boy, she darn near flew ten feet on that hit", I made the transition into wheelchair racing.

The change that I went through within a few short months was absolutely remarkable. I had rediscovered the passion for sport that I had enjoyed for so many years. Finally I had a reason to believe in myself and a goal to focus on. What was that goal? It was a dream that I had carried in the back of my mind since the time that I was three years old and I picked up my first basketball. I had always been too afraid to say my thoughts out loud because they sounded so unattainable. But this time something was different. I realized that if I could adjust to being in a wheelchair, anything was possible. Before my injury I had never realized that every person, including myself had such incredible strength. This time I was not afraid to say my dream out loud because I truly believed in myself. So I did it, I was truthful with myself and announced what I had been dreaming of since before I could remember. I wanted to compete against the best athletes in the world.

I had the dream, I had the belief in myself, now all I needed was the support. It wasn’t very hard to find. In 1997, I told my parents that I wanted to be at the 2000 Games in Sydney. They didn’t bat an eye. You see, when I played sports before, I used to get a look of determination whenever the competition was close. My family commonly referred to it as the "Lisa Look", and whenever it would sneak in during a competition, my opponents knew they were in trouble. When I told my parents my goal, they simply said "Go for it, and let us know if there is anything we can do to help." I later found out that the reason they were so compliant was because something that had been missing for years was present. I had the "Lisa Look".

I had all the ingredients needed in the recipe for success. There was nothing that could stop me from reaching my objective. I trained extremely hard for three years, gaining momentum in the international racing scene with each competition. Being involved in sports again filled an enormous void in my life. I’ll be the first to admit that it was not always easy. Some days were tough. As I’m sure you are aware, the weather in Saskatchewan is not always pleasant. The day that I got caught in a hailstorm, or the many times I had to wear my parka and electric socks come to mind. But I knew that if I worked hard it would eventually pay off.

Between the summers of 1997 and 2000, I competed all over North America, as well as in Europe and Australia. I set world records in the 400, 1500, and 5000 meter races. Then came the biggest opportunity in my racing career. I attended the trials for the 2000 Paralympic Games. The trials went off without a hitch and finally my dream became a reality. I was named to the Canadian Paralympic team.

Last October I flew to Sydney for my Paralympic debut, and the most incredible three weeks in my life. The Paralympic Games are the equivalent to the Olympics for the world’s top athletes with a disability. They are also a source of great inspiration for people from all walks of life. I found myself being inspired by the genuine enthusiasm and zest for life that all of the athletes shared. It was a celebration of our abilities and we had no reason to focus on our disabilities.

I started my competition by winning gold in the 800 meter race. I received my medal and as the national anthem began to play I was overcome with emotion. I kept thinking about how far I had come. Just four years earlier I was lying in a hospital bed completely paralyzes, but at that moment I was on top of the world. The rest of my experience in Sydney flew by in a whirlwind of competitions, autographs, and interviews. I returned home with four gold medals and one silver – far better that I had expected. The best part of the whole experience was that I was finally able to say that I had done something with my life.

I am often asked how I dealt with the pressure that I had to face at the start of each race. I’ll be honest, I never really felt that there was pressure until I was asked that question. Before each race, I read a card that was given to me by my two best friends before I left for Sydney. The card says:

"You shine like a star in your own special way and add a beautiful light to this world." I carry this card around with me at all times, and if there is ever a day that I feel down I just pull it out and think about what it means. I think about how lucky I am that somebody cared enough to share that thought with me. I also think about how everyone is really a star, and most of us have not realized it. The truth is, it is so simple to be a star. All you need is the right attitude. Your attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference.

I know this is true. In my life, when I felt like I had been dealt a crummy hand, my life was crummy. The moment that I decided to change my attitude, those things that I thought were problems became opportunities.

Here comes the important part of this speech. If there is any advice that I can offer you today, it is to keep your thoughts positive. Because your thoughts become your words, your works become your actions, your actions become your habits, your habits become your values, and your values become your destiny.

You have chosen a very fitting grad theme. "Faith to Believe" applies to so many aspects of your life. Believe in yourself. Believe in your abilities. Believe in your dream. Believe in others. How you treat others is a reflection of how you feel about yourself. It is also important to cherish your friends and show them how much you appreciate them. They are the ones that will be with you when times are tough. You must also remember to thank your friends when you succeed.

I encourage each one of you to focus on your strengths and to realize your full potential. You cannot change the inevitable, but you do have the power to control your response. Life is 10% what happens to you, and 90% how you react to it. And so it is with you….you are in charge of your attitudes.

Congratulations to each and every one of you. I wish you the best of luck in the future.

Thank you.