Becky Curran

Reunited with the man who started it all, Ron Truppa. As fellow Providence College Alumni, we connected around a dream he had for Catalina Island and a film festival that could bring storytellers together. I was fortunate to be part of those early years as the founding Marketing Director for the first two festivals. Sixteen years later, it’s incredible to see what Ron’s vision has become. Looking back, I’m filled with gratitude for the friendships, opportunities, and memories that grew from those first years. Some people change the course of your life without either of you knowing it at the time. Ron is one of those people.

How do we change perceptions about disability?

By sharing authentic stories, challenging stereotypes, and creating opportunities for inclusion.

As someone living with dwarfism, I've dedicated my career and life's mission to advancing disability inclusion and challenging the way people with disabilities are perceived in society.

I recently sat down with My Hero 360 for a two part conversation about breaking barriers, overcoming assumptions, and uplifting underrepresented communities.

In Part 1, I share my journey growing up with achondroplasia, the most common form of dwarfism, navigating disability, building confidence, and finding purpose through advocacy, public speaking, and community.

In Part 2, the conversation becomes even more personal as I discuss resilience, the loss of my son Jackson, who was born with dwarfism and passed away at just six months old, and how his legacy continues to inspire my work creating a more inclusive world for people with disabilities.

Thank you to My Hero 360 for providing a platform to share these important conversations and for helping amplify disability representation and inclusion.

📽️ Part 1: https://youtu.be/q90OD_jkqC0?is=ik-PP5_u_G40Me2I

📽️ Part 2: https://youtu.be/UcomODqEeXM?is=1XrhonmYbTPk-YY6

This Hero Is Paving the Way for People With Disabilities | Becky Jackson Curran In this episode of My Hero 360, host Kerri Fitzgerald sits down wit...

Today, I’m giving back to an organization that has given me so much.

After my incomplete spinal cord injury, Achilles International Achilles Boston helped me discover a community that believed in possibility, friendship, and adventure. Through Achilles, I’ve found confidence, purpose, lifelong friends, and a true sense of belonging.

I’m grateful to the incredible people I’ve met along the way, including Emily Glasser, Janet Patton, Genna Griffith Giammatteo, Francesco Magisano, Bob, Kris, Richard Whitehead MBE, Cedric, Tina Zhu Xi Caruso (祝西), John Young, Diana Codispoti, John Pluhowski, Joe LeMar, Lisa, and Grace (Morrissey) Barbagallo. Your encouragement and belief in me have made all the difference.

Achilles has given me so much more than races and finish lines. It has reminded me that new possibilities can be found in every stage of life.

On Achilles’ Day of Giving, I hope you’ll consider supporting this amazing organization.

🔗 Donate here: https://bit.ly/3U3CJSH.

Because one phone call, one race, one volunteer, or one act of generosity can change a life.

Achilles changed mine.

There is nothing that makes me happier than sharing Jackson’s story and honoring the impact he continues to have on so many lives.

“Life is only as good as your mindset. A negative mind will never give you a positive life.”

Twenty four years ago at a Providence College service project, I met a woman who would change my life forever.

Over the last two decades, Joanna Shannon has been my adventure partner, cheerleader, and constant source of strength. She believed in me when I could not believe in myself and helped shape the person I am today.

This weekend, I had the honor of standing beside my best friend as she married the love of her life Ishan Patel. Watching Joanna and Ishan begin this new chapter was beautiful, emotional, and unforgettable.

Congratulations, Joanna and Ishan. Thank you for letting me be part of your day, your story, and your love. I love you both, and I cannot wait to see the beautiful life you build together.

Achilles International is family. It is a community that supports, encourages, and celebrates every step toward our walking or running goals. On September 17, Achilles Day of Giving, you can help Achilles Boston continue creating opportunities for athletes with disabilities while strengthening the global Achilles community. Your donation directly supports Achilles chapters and programs that bring athletes, guides, and supporters together. Through your generosity, more people can build confidence, pursue ambitious goals, form lasting friendships, and discover what is possible through the power of sport and community. You can donate here: https://give.achillesinternational.org/BeckyMotivates.

Happy Birthday to the boxing coach Travis Rios who reminds me that limits are often meant to be challenged. Thank you for helping me discover just how strong and capable I am. Your support, encouragement, and belief in me mean more than you know. Hope your day is as amazing as the impact you have on others.

Holding Jackson close in my heart, I spent the weekend at Camp Ellellbee surrounded by little people and the caregivers who love them so deeply.

There were moments that made me smile, moments that brought tears to my eyes, and moments that reminded me how grief and gratitude can exist side by side.

Watching these children grow into who they are meant to be, while witnessing the fierce love and hope that surrounds them, felt like a gift. As I listened to stories, shared laughter, and made new connections, I found myself thinking of Jackson often.

I left with a fuller heart. Grateful for this community. Grateful for these families. And grateful for the chance to carry Jackson’s light with me as I walked alongside them.

Last night at The 'Quin House member networking event, we were asked a simple question: If you could host a dinner party and invite any five people, living or dead, who would you choose?

At first, my mind went where many people's minds go. Historical figures. Celebrities. People whose stories have shaped the world. Then, as others shared their answers, the question began to shift. People spoke about grandparents they never met, parents they had lost, and loved ones they wished they could spend just one more evening with.

When I got home, I asked my care partner the same question.

Without hesitation, she said she would make sure there were toys at the table so Jackson, who she never had a chance to meet, could be there.

The moment she said it, my heart stopped.

Through the entire conversation at the event, Jackson had never crossed my mind. Maybe because I was thinking of adults. Maybe because grief has a way of showing up on its own timetable. But the second she said his name, the answer became crystal clear.

There is not a person in this world I would rather share a dinner table with than my son.

Before Jackson died, we were working toward foods beyond formula. He was getting stronger, reaching milestones, and was almost ready to sit comfortably at the table with us during meals. We were so close to that season of life. The season filled with highchairs, spilled food, endless questions, and stories about his day.

We never got there.

Now, I find myself wondering about all the conversations we never had.

What was his first day of school like?

Who were his friends?

What made him laugh so hard that milk came out of his nose?

What was his favorite subject?

What dreams would he have shared with us across the dinner table?

I would give anything to know those answers.

Grief is complicated. Some days it arrives in obvious ways. Other days it sneaks in through a networking icebreaker at a social club. A simple question becomes a painful reminder of everything that was lost and everything that should have been.

But it also becomes a reminder of love.

Because when I really stopped to think about it, I realized that out of every person who has ever lived, out of every famous name, every leader, every celebrity, every historical figure, the seat I would want filled most is his.

I would trade every fascinating conversation in the world for one dinner with Jackson.

Just one night.

Just one meal.

Just one chance to hear him tell me about his day.