Student makes special connection with motivational speaker

On a platform on the back of Jacob Hesselman's motorized wheelchair lay a hardback copy of a book, a book about survival, a book about how to enjoy the hell out of life and live to tell about it. The book was called "Life," and was written by, of all people, guitarist Keith Richards, of the Rolling Stones.

In the gymnasium at Dubuque Senior High School on a balmy morning, it seemed just the right book, just the right message, even if from an odd source.

Hesselman, 17, a junior at Senior, was in his chair at the front of the gym, talking to his mother, and getting ready to introduce a man from Pennsylvania who had traveled to Dubuque to talk to the students. Born without fully developed arms and legs, Hesselman was just the right guy to introduce speaker Craig Dietz, a man born 36 years ago without limbs.

Dietz, a law school graduate, travels the country as a motivational speaker, hoping to use himself as an example of living up to one's potential.

Maneuvering his wheelchair to a spot on a makeshift stage, Dietz wasted no time in getting to his message. The eyes of hundreds of students watched him carefully, expectantly, silently.

"There is a concept I talk about a lot, called 'defining your own potential,'" Dietz said. "I believe everybody in this gym has the ability to define their own potential."

Dietz also lives by a credo that he happily passed on to his listeners, one he called a KISS, an acronym for "keep it simple, silly."

"The simplest lessons we learn in life often turn out to be the most useful," Dietz continued. "There are a few lessons that have served me well. One is to never judge a book by its cover. People have taken one look at me and vastly underrated my potential, based solely on my appearance."

At those words, young Jacob nodded knowingly, turning to his mother, Terri, who sat in the front row and had come to watch her son introduce the speaker. She smiled the unmistakable smile of recognition, the kind only a mother and her child could share, especially a mother who has known since 90 days into her pregnancy that Jacob would face obstacles her other children would not.

Terri Hesselman was happy to sing the praises of Jacob, who hopes to attend either the University of Iowa or University of Dubuque to prepare to become a high school chemistry teacher.

"My job is to give him the tools to get on in life," Terri said with a laugh. "And I say 'pay attention,' because I know my job."

Jacob rolled his eyes in amusement.

"And I tell Jacob that sometimes people are unkind, sometimes people are jerks," Terri continued. "Sometimes I'm a jerk myself. It's a fact of life about people and you have to learn to roll with it, not let it bother you."

"Mom never let me take myself too seriously," Jacob said, not exactly sure where his mother was taking the discussion.

"Kids are gonna walk into your classroom," Terri said, leaning toward her son, "and say 'What the hell happened to the chemistry teacher?"

"And I'll say 'This is what happens when you don't pay attention to your chemistry teacher,'" Jacob responded, laughing.

Back on stage, Dietz had his audience exactly where he wanted them, rapt and curious.

"The most common thing is people look at me and think 'look at that poor man stuck in that wheelchair,'" Dietz said. "I'm definitely not stuck in my wheelchair."

At which point he exited his chair and in the blink of an eye had placed his body on the stage. Again, Jacob nodded in knowing appreciation. This was a world he understood. The students clapped, like they had seen a heroic athletic feat. Dietz and Jacob knew better. To them, this is simply what one does.

And in the end, perhaps it's not really about overcoming obstacles. Everyone has obstacles. And everyone has potential. Craig Dietz knows it. Jacob Hesselman and his mother know it. And now, thanks to a couple of guys who use wheelchairs but are not bound by them, hundreds of students know it as well.