University of Delaware
Office of Public Relations
UpDate - Vol. 16, No. 34, June 12

                           Commencement '97
            Sean Curran: Not your average college graduate
     
     The pollen count is high, and Sean Curran's allergies
are getting the best of him. "I see you have a box of
tissues over there," the mild-mannered senior says. "Would
you mind wiping my eyes?"
     It's a small request that tugs at your heart.
     Curran, a business and economics major who earned a
finance degree this year, is a quadriplegic who has spent
his four years at UD in a wheelchair. Paralyzed below the
neck, he operates the chair with his head.
     Asking little requests of strangers is a daily
occurrence-something he's long since gotten over being
embarrassed about.
     "It's a pretty friendly campus. People don't mind being
asked to do something that only takes a few minutes," he
says.
     In August of 1986, when Curran was 14, he and a cousin
were busy riding the waves-body surfing in Ocean City, Md.,
as the family sat nearby on the beach.
     "About 5:30 or 6 p.m., I took a tumble like I had a
million times before," he says, "only this time my head hit
the sand at precisely the right angle to crush my fourth
vertebrae. It didn't sever my spinal cord, but swelling
pinched it off so that no blood could flow into the area.
It's intact but useless, due to the resulting damage."
     The day after the accident, Curran was told he would
never move his arms or legs again.
     "There's nothing that could prepare you to hear those
words," his mother, Catherine Sielski, said.
     From the scene of the accident, Curran was airlifted to
a hospital in Salisbury, Md., where he remained for 10 days.
He then was airlifted to A.I. du Pont Children's Hospital,
where he remained from September to March.
     "You pretty much go through the gamut of emotions," he
said. "You go from thinking, 'Well, this is temporary. I'll
be better soon,' to really bad depression. It's not only the
fact that you can't move, because of the trauma your body's
suffered and all the medication you need, you constantly
feel like you're at death's door.
     "When you have a C-4 injury or one to a higher
vertebrae, your diaphragm is temporarily paralyzed. For a
while, I was completely ventilator-dependent, but slowly and
surely the ability to breath on my own returned."
     The fall after he was released from the hospital,
Curran enrolled in Salesianum High School. Three years later
during an emotional ceremony, he graduated with honors and
many awards. Since he had always planned to go to college to
major in business, he decided to stick to his plans.
     "I was terrified to send him off to school," his mother
recalled. "But, I thought, well, he can stay home and become
an invalid or give college a try. We approached it from the
standpoint of what did he have to lose?"
     Always an exceptional student, Curran was accepted here
and at the Wharton School of Business at the University of
Pennsylvania.
     "I thought if I was going to take such a big step," he
said, "I might as well be 15 minutes away from home. When
you're younger, your parents are your major fall back if,
say, a volunteer doesn't show up to help with a meal."
     Enticements offered by the University included a
scholarship and promised housing renovation in a Dickinson
apartment.
     "They volunteered to relocate a Dumpster to create
parking for the van I ride in, they increased the size of
the bathroom to accommodate my chair and they built a ramp,"
Curran explained.
     "That's what really sold me. I've been able to live on
campus for four years and will return next year to start and
finish my MBA."
     Living accommodations were just the first of many
things Curran had to consider.
     There was the wheelchair, for example.
     "Basically. I use my head like a joystick," Curran
said. Radio waves enable him to send signals to the device
by hitting it a certain number of times with his
head-varying amounts for stop, forward and backward,
movements to the left or right to turn.
     "You should have seen him getting used to it," his
mother says, with a laugh. "He ran right through the screens
on the porch."
     Then, there is eating and everything else.
     "When you think that everything in Sean's life has to
be scheduled- that he has to schedule volunteers for every
bite of food he eats and every shower he takesit's
amazing," his mother says. "He doesn't have the option of
pulling an all-nighter before a big testhis study time is
scheduled around the volunteers. He's really been able to
accomplish so much for someone who had to stick to such a
rigid time schedule."
     Curran has his volunteer schedule and schedule of paid
helpers pretty much down to a science. He knows how much he
can ask of a person in a volunteer vs. a paid position.
     His roommate, for example, (he's had three over the
years) gets free board in exchange for helping Curran get to
bed each night. A visiting nurse gets him up each
morning-usually allowing two and a half to three hours to
get him ready to go. Other organizations provide people to
help Curran with his meals.
     Academically, Curran, who maintained a 3.25 GPA, had
people to take notes for him in class and worked with an
assistant to take exams.
     "I'd have a photocopy of the exam on my tray (attached
to his wheelchair) and whoever is assisting me has the
original copy. They write my answers as I dictate them."
     Typing papers with a mouth stick was a painfully slow
process since it allows him to only hit one key at a time.
Sometimes, he dictated papers. For graduation, his family
gave him Dragon Dictate, a voice-operated computer program.
     Curran describes his time at UD as years with "only a
few bumps in the road." His mother, who wears a beeper and
has frequently seen Sean's number on it followed by 9-1-1,
says he's had some major mountains to climb.
     There have been surgeries and emergency room
visits-sometimes to regulate his body temperature- something
a quadriplegic's body doesn't do on its own.
     "Sean probably didn't tell you about the bad times. He
wouldn't," his mother said. "Every time I've had to meet him
in the emergency room, he's had some quip for me. It's just
how he is."
     Professors who have taught him and volunteers who have
assisted him all marvel at Curran's peaceful spirit and
optimistic outlook.
     "It's pretty simple," he said, explaining how he is
able to remain so upbeat.
     "I have a fantastic support system," he said, "and I'm
very fortunate for it. First of all, I have my faith and the
support of a local church. I rely heavily on my prayer life
and what I believe to be God's help in troubled times. It's
great to see how everything works out so smoothly.
     "Secondly, I have my family. They've been very
encouraging, pushing me, wanting me to have as close to a
normal collegiate experience as possible.
     "Thirdly, I have a lot of practical things to be
downright thankful for. My parents [stockbroker Denis Curran
and Sielski, who is a school principal] had enough money to
support me through this-many people without funds end up as
wards of the state.
     "Then, I have my friends from high school, my friends
I've met here. It's amazing how many people start out as
volunteers and end up as friends."
     For recreation, Curran enjoys going to the movies and
cheering for any Philadelphia sports team, except the
Phillies. He's an Orioles fan.
     His plans for the future include a job in corporate
finance, something investment-oriented, possibly pension
fund management.
     "Ultimately, I'd like to work for a corporate entity
and run their portfolio-be the chief financial
officer-that's the ultimate goal for any finance major. I
might be able to do that in about 30 years."
     His mother's hopes for his future are a little closer
to the heart: "I want Sean to continue achieving his
potential and being a productive member of the community,"
she said, "and I want him to find a wonderful woman who will
love him. He's worth it and he deserves it."
     His interview is over. Curran goes zooming down the
exit ramp.
     "Hey, Sean," someone yells. "Aren't you driving a
little too fast?"
     "Nah," he says with a grin. "I haven't even reached
high gear      yet."
                                                -Beth Thomas