I never thought a child at such a young age could be so sure of himself. As the 12-year-old lifted one foot after the other to the doors of Virginia G. Piper’s Sports and Fitness Center — one flesh and bone, one prosthetic — I went to hold the door open. Much to my surprise, I got the death stare followed by, “You remember what I said? I can do anything.”
Kevin Messner knew he could. It became second nature to expect the best in life, even when life didn’t reciprocate. But Kevin, a transfemoral amputee, shrugs it off. He was born with a defective right leg; his knee, tibia, ankle and foot bones were unusable.
Just after he was born, he was sent to an orphanage a couple hours out of Hong Kong; ZhaoQing, a social welfare orphanage, took him in. Zhao Pan — what the doctors and nurses named him — was left at the doorway of a neurological facility by his birth parents.
He was left with an expanding void.
But after four years at ZhaoQing, Pan was all right. In May 2004, Zhao was adopted. Kyle Messner, now a faculty member at ASU’s West campus, took him in. Kyle was offered the job at ASU the day she brought Kevin home.
“When I looked at Kevin’s face, I knew he was the one,” Kyle says. “I was hesitant at first but it opened up a whole new world.”
That hesitancy translated into learning about children with disabilities. Kyle does not regret the decision, and she says she could not have wished for a better son. Zhao Pan was now Kevin Matthew Zhao Pan Messner. Kyle wanted to keep the name the nurses and doctors gave him because it translates to “hope for a good future.”
And it seemed to be getting brighter.
But, six months after his arrival in the U.S., Shriner’s Hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah performed an amputation on his leg and fit him with a prosthetic. On his fifth birthday, five weeks after the amputation, he started walking. Baby steps — that’s all it took. Step by step, his new family was there.
One of those baby steps came early: the language barrier needed to be breached.
Kyle had a background in Mandarin; Kevin spoke Cantonese. Although Kevin was hard to understand at first, both ends worked on communication: Kevin tried teaching Kyle, like all kids would, the words “ice cream” and “candy.”
Through the years, Kevin progressed exponentially. The baby steps were soon replaced with strides as he found his niche in sports. This is where Kevin’s “good future” took shape.
No, he didn’t want to follow the path of his inspiration, ASU wrestler Anthony Robles, who is also a right-legged amputee. He didn’t want to wrestle. He wanted to run.
The Challenge Athletes Foundation had given Kevin a grant for an Ossur Flex Run running leg in November 2009. In February 2010, he was fitted and no longer had to run on his daily prosthetic. This is where running—along with other sports, including archery, and most recently, skiing—defines him as an able-bodied child.
He became confident in his newfound ability.
“I used to be shy,” Kevin says. “But I think it’s the person who is competitive. I want to win and beat others. I want to be like, ‘Yeah, I beat them.’”
Kevin says that as he got older he became more confident. He’s now focusing on his long-distance running (despite usually running the 400 meter, where his best time is 1:42). Kevin can also clock in a mile at 7:16. He wants to someday be a Paralympian.
“I feel like there’s anything I can do in my life,” he says. “My mom wants me to get fast enough (for the Paralympics). I can do it. I’ll do it, and I’ll finish it.”
Kevin followed through.
Kevin ended up breaking his 400 meter mark of 1:42 while competing in the 2012 Desert Challenge Games in Mesa, Ariz. He has bettered his time: 1:39.39. This was no barrier as Kevin envisions being that Paralympian.
At the 2012 National Junior Disability Championships, his constant progression stayed true: he ran the 400 meter in 1:25.84. The time was a national record.
Like his race progression, the time he spends being a kid gets better. Arizona Disabled Sports Executive Director Lane Gram thinks so. She says that Kevin has continued to progress each year whether it is on the track or socializing with his team, the AZ Heat.
“Kevin is the type of athlete that will defeat his opponent mentally as much as physically,” Gram says. “Kevin is an exceptional athlete. He is extremely mature for his age and has a very quiet demeanor.”
So as Kevin tucks in for the night after training, popping in his iPod ear buds (he likes the bumping bass of LMFAO’s “Party Rock Anthem” to relax), he looks up at his wall. A poster of Robles, a 2011 National Champion and idol, hangs there.
Their shared disability adds personal meaning to the poster hanging on his wall. Kevin not only sees a one-legged wrestler, but an empowered athlete. Kevin, too, wants to be one.
“I can do everything that (other kids) can do,” Kevin says. “Guys, I can do it.”
So, Kevin keeps running. He not only runs a mile in 7:16, but he runs with all of the opportunities he’s presented with.
Then, the Virginia G. Piper Sports and Fitness Center made the man on the poster a reality.
The facility marked its grand opening on Feb. 24 of this year. Both Kyle and Kevin were in attendance, as the complex specializes in helping the disabled. Robles happened to be the guest speaker.
Robles’s main point was that we all wrestle with issues — disabled or not. In his opening statement, he said that you need to shoot for whatever you want, and if you quit, you’re only living down to others’ expectations.
Kevin sees life likewise.
“I don’t know what life has for me,” Kevin says. “But I feel like there’s anything I can do in life.”
Kevin was not standing in front of his idolized poster, but the real Robles. At the fitness center that day, Kevin met Robles for the first time. They took pictures together and the mutual envy between them was apparent. Not only Kevin but Robles, too, idolized the child who has overcome obstacles his entire life; Robles wanted a picture with Kevin.
“I told him not to listen to negativity,” Robles says. “You want to use negativity as fuel.”
Kevin thought it was “cool” to stand before a person who has used their disability to rise. He wants to do this, too.
In that facility, he trains. From leg machines to the track, Fitness Coordinator Gabe Gerbic has been looking on. He sees a maturing boy.
“He’s really come out of his shell,” Gerbic says. “It’s interesting to see a kid that young talking about training. Usually when you’re young, you’re just kind of like ‘whatever.’ He really wants to get better. It shows. He has a zest for it. To see a person run with a prosthetic that well is amazing especially as a kid. When you see a little kid do it, it’s more impressive for some reason.”
Gerbic also sees Kevin growing socially. Gerbic says that in the past, he’d train alone. Most recently though, he brought a friend. Gerbic laughs: “He likes to show off sometimes and show how strong he is.”
Overall, Kevin is growing. Even when Gerbic should be asking for his autograph — as he kiddingly says — Kevin still is like any other 12-year-old kid. Kevin is now in middle school. He plans to run track for Mountain Trail Middle School.
“I think my voice cracked a little this year,” Kevin says, chuckling. “This is the year when you make friends. I started as a nobody, but now I’m a somebody. I’ve really grown up.”
Kyle is in awe, realizing the start of it all. Kevin has gone from a child in need of help, to a growing young man who is helping others.
She even uses him as an example when teaching her students. Junior Elementary Education major Jeannette DeLoach remembers her special education class from last semester:
“I’ve taken a lot of college classes, but that’s one I’ll never forget,” she says. “She taught us how to apply the boring stuff to life. She’s been there; she’s survived it.”
That “it” factor is raising a disabled child. DeLoach is a single mother of two (one of them has that disability) who used the class towards raising her own children. She remembers meeting with Messner outside of classes and really using her as a mentor. DeLoach says she wants her kids to grow up like Kevin, and that Kyle’s mentoring did shed new light upon raising a special needs child.
“(Kevin’s) a good boy,” Kyle says. “He’s a good, solid person, and he will grow up to be a solid man.”
But that’s in the future: being a man. Today, Kevin spends his day like every other preteen does.
He indulges in cartoons, dominates newbies at Call of Duty on his XBOX (even though his mother thinks he’s still too young) and brings the addiction of Angry Birds with him on his iPod everywhere he goes.
He even manages to keep an "A" average in school with all of his gaming. He kids around: “Maybe a "B" here and there,” he says.
But behind his playful nature, the intensity to keep overcoming obstacles burns. In the Virginia G. Piper complex, you’ll see him constantly training. He rock climbs, weight trains and runs.
He doesn’t plan to stop.
“I went to China to bring home a child who’s disabled,” Kyle says. “But I brought home an athlete.”
Contact the writer at bcapria@asu.edu or via Twitter @BrendanCapria