Sometimes we have an ideal view of how the world works. We assume after putting in several long, hard years of school, possibly even working a temporary job, eager employers will be lining up outside our doors. That is rarely the case. Most of us realize too late that employers are looking for candidates with real-world experience. For those of us striving for international careers, employers expect us to have studied or interned abroad. People with disabilities are not exempt from this expectation. In many cases, we have to go above and beyond just to be treated equally. But international travel is worth so much more than just another bullet point to add to your resume—it enriches your life, enlightens and expands your possibilities.

As a career-minded junior at Brigham Young University (BYU), I was continuously looking for opportunities that would set me apart from the pack when it came time to apply for professional positions. While working for the Center for the Study of Europe at BYU, I learned about a newly created internship with the Scottish Parliament in Edinburgh, Scotland. Before my participation, only a handful of students had completed the internship, and none of them were students with disabilities.

Because the internship program was so new, it was fairly underdeveloped. Students were expected to make all travel arrangements, find housing, and coordinate travel to and from the Parliament building each day. We were on our own, in other words. Being in a wheelchair due to Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis, the prospect of being out of my element AND alone was daunting. I was fearful and my family was concerned. But this was an adventure on which I knew I had to go.

Before we left for the internship, a member of the Scottish Parliament, Brian Adam came to lecture at BYU. As a soon-to-be intern, I was invited along with other prospective interns to a special luncheon to meet him. I noticed right away that Mr. Adam was passionate about his work in the Parliament. This shouldn’t have been surprising to me; the Parliament had just reconvened in 1999 after a UK-imposed, 392-year recess.

I learned that our responsibilities as interns would be significant, including tasks such as writing press releases, drafting briefs used in debate, preparing and submitting parliamentary questions, and composing reports that would be used in policy development. As students, we were slightly suspicious that a foreign political party would entrust such important responsibilities to inexperienced American students. No pouring coffee and delivering the morning donuts for us! After the luncheon, Mr. Adam pulled me aside and told me that they had never had a person in a wheelchair work at the Parliament, but that they would do whatever possible to make things accessible. With this reassurance, I was fired up and ready to go.

After extensive Internet searching and endless phone calls, I managed to secure a flat with an elevator in Edinburgh. I didn’t care about any of the other accessibility issues (lower counters, wider doors, etc.). I was just grateful to find a home I could enter without being carried. I also arranged for one of the other interns in the group to be my personal assistant while I was there (which, in hindsight, was a bad decision—you should always hire someone whose first priority is you).

Our group of interns decided to fly to London together, sightsee for a day and then take the train to Edinburgh the following morning. But it wasn’t as simple as that. The mutual friend we planned on staying with canceled at the last minute. We had to resort to staying in a hostel with a flight of stairs at the entrance, four stairs into the bathroom, and a window that had to be tied shut with rope. It was a wheelchair user’s nightmare. Needless to say, I was excited to get on the train the next day.

Mr. Adam’s son met us in Edinburgh. He immediately informed us that we would be walking the few blocks to the Parliament with our luggage. After our experiences from the previous night and our baggage-carrying walk, we arrived at the Parliament looking far less than professional. Mr. Adam greeted us and proceeded to introduce us to members from various parties. We were nervous about what the officials thought of us: the shabby, poorly dressed American interns dragging large suitcases and pillows behind them. To add insult to injury, after trying to give a quick charge to my electric wheelchair, the power converter blew up and I was without power. I had to call more than a dozen wheelchair shops and be pushed around for an entire weekend before I was able to find a UK charger that fit my wheelchair model. Moral of the story, do your homework on voltage conversions before going abroad (Mobility International USA has a tip sheet on this).

Despite such shaky beginnings, my experience in Edinburgh was nothing short of amazing. I worked with the Scottish National Party’s (SNP) deputy party leader, Roseanna Cunningham, MSP. She gave me the task of compiling a report on nuclear energy policy. However, that soon turned into many other exciting projects, including writing press releases on waste transportation, preparing briefs on reforming the European Union’s (EU) treaties on nuclear plant maintenance, and undertaking reports on the UK’s efforts to develop renewable energy sources.

In addition to my work with Ms. Cunningham, I completed projects on a topic of personal interest to me —disability employment levels in Europe. My desk at the Parliament was -as fate would have it -directly across from Sandra White, MSP, the Scottish National Party’s member of the Equal Opportunities Committee. While I was eager to work on this topic, I was nervous about imposing myself on an official to whom I was not assigned. However, with encouragement from the faculty director, I introduced myself to Ms. White and offered my services. To my surprise, she was extremely excited and immediately put me to work preparing an analysis of U.S. strategies to integrate people with disabilities into the workforce and how those strategies could be implemented in Scotland. Together, Ms. White and I created a proposal on how to better the situation of people with disabilities in Scotland and presented it to the Equal Opportunities Committee. This truly was a political science student’s dream.

I gained so much more than international political experience; I developed a heightened sense of independence and self-reliance. Alone, I learned the layout of the city: the bus system, the accessible entrances, how to bump down curbs when the street ended without a curb cut, where and how to go grocery shopping, and many other life activities. While at first it was difficult, I soon learned to enjoy my independence. What began as a rather terrifying experience – discovering the city for myself – became a favorite activity.

After working at the Parliament, I would delay going home just so I could visit museums, shops, parks, buildings, bridges, gardens, and see views of the city that I wouldn’t have been able to find if I hadn’t taken that leap of self-reliance and self-discovery. If things looked inaccessible, I found another way in. If a road ended in stairs, I turned around and tried a different road. If the bus I had been waiting for was one without a ramp, I walked instead. Instead of cursing the city’s inaccessibility, I learned to love and appreciate its beauty and history. The reality of my situation forced me to learn how to do things I never thought possible and prepared me for the real world.