On the final day of the 2006-07 academic year, Marquise Lane walked through the open doors of the Valdosta Middle School Media Center. He was wearing a white Shaquille O’Neal jersey and an unforgettable smile.

Marquise turned to his left, making his way over to a series of long, wooden shelves where he began searching for something to read. Due, at least in part, to the seemingly long distance between his seventh-grade classroom and the Media Center, his breathing was noticeably labored and shallow but not so much that it deterred his efforts.

“I like to read fiction and anything written about sports ... especially football ... although on several different occasions I have read books about either basketball or baseball,” he said.

When asked if he had a favorite football team, a wide-eyed Marquise replied with a question of his very own: “Are you talking about professional or college?” He eventually admitted to being a fan of both the Dallas Cowboys and the University of Texas’ Texas Longhorns. His obsession with these particular teams was explained indirectly when he later said he had been born in the Lone Star State.

Marquise entered this world on Sept. 21, 1993, at a Fort Worth, Texas, hospital weighing 3 pounds, 11 ounces. His mother, Rachael Clark, had suffered an unexpected placental abruption, a rare but serious complication of pregnancy where the placenta separates from the inner wall of the uterus before delivery. He was delivered at 31 weeks gestation. Doctors feared any additional time spent in utero would jeopardize his and his mother’s futures.

Marquise spent the first 30 days of his life inside a neonatal intensive care unit. Rachael refused to leave his side or believe for even one second that he might not make it, that he might not ever get to go home with her. A member of the U.S. Air Force stationed at Lackland Air Force Base, she remained strong and optimistic.

“It was touch and go for a while,” she said, details from those fretful few days still fresh in her mind. “But he proved to be my miracle child.”

Rachael never suspected Marquise had been deprived of oxygen and nutrients as a result of the placental abruption when she took him home to San Antonio, Texas. After all, he looked and acted like every other infant on the block. He cried when he was hungry or wet and relished afternoon naps upon his mother’s chest. The only thing different about him was the fact that he smiled all the time, and that was certainly nothing to complain about.

But something was wrong with Marquise. Areas of his brain that control movement and posture had either been damaged or had failed to develop as a result of the placental abruption. Within a matter of weeks, Rachael began to notice that her son was not reaching certain developmental milestones — rolling over, sitting upright, crawling and walking. She suspected something was definitely wrong with him, if only physically. Her suspicions were confirmed when he turned 3 years old and doctors told her he suffered from cerebral palsy.

Specifically, Marquise was diagnosed with spastic diplegia, a type of cerebral palsy characterized by difficulty getting around, as well as rigid and jerky muscles. His leg and hip muscles were tight, and his legs crossed at the knees, making it difficult, if not impossible, for him to walk without assistance.

“I don’t know what else it causes, but I know it does not affect me up here,” the 13-year-old said, pointing his index finger toward his head.

And he has the report cards to prove it. Marquise has earned all “A” averages, attending regular education classes, since he and his mother moved to Valdosta four years ago. He does not like to talk about the “B” he made in mathematics as a third-grader when he was living in Atlanta and his mother was on special duty assignment at the U.S. Military Entrance Processing Station. He prefers to focus his attention on the bright side and his time in the Valdosta City School System, which kicked off at West Gordon Elementary School when his mother was stationed at Moody Air Force Base. He will be an eighth-grader at Valdosta Middle School when August rolls around.

“He’s very intelligent ... very smart,” a proud and beaming Rachael said of her Beta Club member. “And that’s a blessing.”

Marquise noted that he does not have a favorite academic subject, although if pressed to make a selection he said he’d have to choose language arts. Since he enjoys using adult-sized words when communicating and appears to be extremely well-read, the name of any other subject rolling off his lips would have sounded a bit ordinary. Rachael said he has talked like a grownup since he turned 4 years old.

At Valdosta Middle School, Marquise serves as an honorary member of the Tomcat football team. On game days, he gets to wear a black and gold jersey, sit on the sidelines with the rest of the players and cheer the team on to victory. The spastic diplegia cerebral palsy might have taken away his ability to play the game like all the other boys, but it failed miserably to dampen his spirit. He considers just being included by the team to be “the coolest thing ever.”

“He really loves football,” Rachael said. “His room at home is decorated with Dallas Cowboys stuff. He follows all the statistics and watches all the games on television. He’s deep into it.”

Marquise attempts to play touch or flag football whenever possible during the summer months at the Boys and Girls Club of Valdosta’s Lake Laurie unit. His reverse walker slows him down and wears him out, but he does not care. He would rather be forced to work twice as hard as everyone else and be able to play than sit back and watch everyone else have all the fun.

“I am a great defensive player,” he said, having accepted his limitations. He knows he cannot hold the football and run for the touchdown as a part of the offense. He can, however, stop a member of the opposing team from doing so. He works hard to balance his strengths against his weaknesses. “I have a lot of heart. Others would have given up a long time ago. I just figure there’s always someone out there worse off than me. My mom says I am really dedicated.”

Marquise described his mom as his single biggest fan. When she suspects that he’s getting a little “down in the dumps,” she pumps him up with one of her spirited and motivating speeches.

“She’s like a cheerleader,” he said. “She always has a ‘Go, Marquise’ for me. Because of her I don’t really think about giving up.” At the often difficult age of 13, Marquise has managed to find an inner peace many search and long for their entire lives. It’s evident in the smile he wears on his face day in and day out, rain or shine.

When asked about this megawatt smile that tugs on the heart, Marquise said, “My mom says I have been smiling since I was a little baby. I don’t know why. My friends think I am crazy ’cause I never get mad about things like they do. I just cannot do it.”

Turning his attention on the future, Marquise would like nothing more than to someday work as a football coach. He knows how to play the game; he watches the NFL network religiously. He knows how to motivate others to try their very best; he learned that skill from his mother.

“I want to go to a good college and learn how to be a football coach,” he said, taking the discussion one step further. “I think I will go somewhere close to where my mom lives, if they offer a degree in football coaching. I don’t want to go too far from home because I think I would get homesick. Plus, my mom would worry about me. If I can’t do it that way, I want to go to the University of Texas.”