Tattoo

Despite disability and poverty, a Silicon Valley girl hopes for quinceanera

Muscular dystrophy has sapped Diana Lopez's breath, paralyzed her arms and legs and left her in a wheelchair. But she still has a voice, and with it she sings. And with the only fingers she can control, she drives her electric chair in a race with time for a normal life.

"Watch out "... I can go fast." As her 15th birthday approaches March 20, the cheerful young lady's latest pursuit is a quincea�era, a traditional dance, feast and spiritual rite of passage for young Latinas entering womanhood.

"I knew we probably didn't have the money for a big party," she said recently at the Sub-Acute Saratoga Children's Hospital, her home for the past few years, "but I thought we could still do a smaller one."

Although nobody at the children's home really has the money or know-how to put on a quincea�era, they can't say no to one of their most positive and engaging patients. The young lady who came to them as a frightened, undereducated girl has blossomed in so many ways. Staff, volunteers and parents of other children have begun to chip in any way they can.

The girl's mother, Lorena Ibarra, earns the minimum wage as a janitor and can barely cover the rent for a room she shares with Diana's younger sister in a South San Francisco house.

"When my daughter said she wanted a quincea�era, I said, well, good," Ibarra said in Spanish. "It will be difficult, but we'll find a way."

Lavish quincea�eras have thrown more than a few Latino families into deep debt, but the challenge here is raising enough money to cover the basics.

Loretta and Fernando Hernandez of Patterson, whose paralyzed son, Vicente, lives in the same wing as Diana, have donated her white princess lace dress, tiara and pearl necklace, altogether worth about $500. The hospital will spruce up the recreation yard for the ceremony. The kitchen staff will bake a cake. A nurse's brother is a DJ.

Diana recruited her court from boys and girls at the hospital, all of them in wheelchairs. But who will pay for their suits and gowns? The same goes for the mariachi band, a Catholic priest to perform the ceremony, flowers and a banquet for dozens of guests.

"I didn't know anything about quincea�eras, and I feel I still don't," administrator Demi Laupati said with a smile belying some frustration. "But this hospital has decided to grant Diana's wish and we will."

Like a Jewish bat mitzvah, Korean gwallye, Filipino debut and English debutante ball, a quincea�era is a social and spiritual rite. Dating to ancient Mexico, it begins with a religious celebration of God's gifts of love and life, followed by a feast and waltz performed by the quincea�era and her court.

"Diana would love to have a mariachi play," said Dr. Paul Quintana, the hospital's medical director. "How much do they cost?"

A bargain would be $400 an hour.

Muscular dystrophy

Diana was born in San Juan de Los Lagos, in the central Mexican state of Jalisco, with Emery-Dreifuss muscular dystrophy. The progressive disease prevents the body from forming proteins essential for normal bones, muscles and the cardiopulmonary system. It has left Diana with spastic quadriplegia, severe scoliosis, collapsing lungs, seizures and more.

But as a child she wasn't so sick, and her mother was able to care for Diana at home. However, Ibarra said, her marriage to Diana's father disintegrated, and the relatives who took them in "eventually got tired of supporting us."

Desperate and without much of an education, Ibarra crossed into the United States illegally, joining a brother in South San Francisco.

"I did it only for my daughter," she said. "I've done all I could with the little I've had."

But as Diana required increased attention and visits to hospitals, medical social workers questioned her ability to care for her daughter. Eventually, Diana was moved for good to the children's hospital in Saratoga, where Medi-Cal pays the bill. The girl was crushed.

"I would rather live at home," Diana said. "I miss my Mom and little sister. But I understand why she can't take care of me. I understand this is where I should be." The staff gives Ibarra credit for visiting Diana almost every week. Of the 36 children at the hospital, a few rarely see their parents or have been abandoned.

Quintana spearheaded the successful effort to win legal immigration status for Diana and her mother, arguing that her life depended on medical attention here that was unavailable to her in Mexico.

"A kid like Diana, she'd be dead in a month in Mexico," he said. "They can't afford to take care of kids like her. We can barely afford to take care of them here."

Music therapy

Diana improved dramatically after moving in, but the best place to see her progress is at Willow Glen Middle School, where a dozen or so severely disabled students are being "integrated" into the 1,200-student campus.

'More confident'

She could read only at the prekindergarten level when she enrolled at age 11. To push her along, special-education teacher Ron Maloney has her reading out loud in small groups with nonhandicapped kids who also have reading problems.

"I just think it's a psychological boost for her," he said after Diana aced a reading from an exercise book. "She's becoming more confident. 'Hey, I can read just as well as they can, even better.' " Diana has a friend at school, 12-year-old Sarah Sager, who visits her for lunch in the special-education room.

"Your hair looks great today," Sarah told her.

"Thank you!" Sarah then logged Diana onto her Facebook page and read her messages from some of her 40 friends on the social networking site.

"I'm basically ad dicted to Facebook," Diana said.

After school on Mondays and Wednesdays, a bus delivers Diana back to the children's home to sing karaoke. It's actually music therapy to improve her memory. She nails "The Climb," a huge hit by pop star Miley Cyrus. She also sings songs by teen sensation Selena Gomez and country star Taylor Swift.

"Do you think Selena Gomez would sing at my quincea�era?" Diana asked. "That would be my dream."

'This is my family'

Patricia Cruzet, a quincea�era coordinator at St. John Vianney Catholic Church in East San Jose, organizes study retreats for the girls, their courts, parents and godparents before the big event.

"Some of them, the girls, just want to have a big party," she said. "But when they come to us, they start to learn about the sacrament and family values."

Getting Diana and her wheelchair court to a retreat across town would take some doing, but she definitely wants to have the quincea�era at the children's hospital and not in a fancy ballroom.

"This is my family," she said. "All the kids here and the staff, they've made me feel at home, and I want all of them to be there."

DONATIONS FOR DIANA'S QUINCEA�ERA FUND

To make a tax-deductible contribution to Diana Lopez's quincea�era in March, contact Demi Laupati at Sub-Acute Saratoga Children's Hospital at 408-340-1501 or demi@subacutesaratoga.com.
TATTOO