Karen delivering an inspiring keynote at a People First conference

To all my readers: There are many of us who have put in a lifetime of effort to become self-sufficient in this complex world. But despite all we have done, society claims we cannot take care of ourselves, make our own choices, or manage our own finances. Ableists find subtle reasons to make nasty, degrading comments to keep us afraid of speaking up and out, simply because we want to live the way every other normal person does. Still, we carry hope in our hearts with an endless amount of love, no matter the hurt and pain, challenging and triumphing, overcoming and defeating, conquering and mastering. With clear, vivid, sensory-rich images of becoming stronger in every way, notwithstanding falling down and getting right back up again with our enormous hearts.

This is my story and my best friend’s story. Sean and I both have cerebral palsy. We have both worked our entire lives to be self-sufficient, to be accepted in this world, and to work side-by-side with our co-workers in our given professions harmoniously. Sean worked diligently and applied himself towards achieving his goal of earning a Doctor of Letters. Yet, even though he attained his dream and became a college teacher, he has had to shield himself against bullying, stereotypes, and full-blown discrimination for the last twenty-five years.

Even though laws, such as the Lanterman Act, are in place, and cases like my own have been won, my decree was sealed to hide discrimination against me by the State of California. Who even knows where the documents are hidden today, after 40+ years? My civil rights lawsuit was supposed to help people with disabilities acquire an education, granted the fact that I had to fight to earn my Associate of Arts degree (with honors), and was ready to learn more. Despite that possibility, I was judged and stymied—blocked from all future education, forced to take another IQ test to prove that I wasn’t mentally retarded, making life that more complex and difficult. Remember how I wrote about the hushed tone that wedged itself into the words of the counselor’s voice? I was painfully humiliated. Controlling my hurt, the fighter that I am, I allowed myself to face my deepest despair with a new resolve. Fighting back, I rebuilt my life. You know my story after reading all my blog posts. Even though we people with disabilities have worked twice and three times as hard, the unfairness continues. Call it whatever you want; we are still left out and hung out to dry with nothing.

My point is that no matter how much the laws have changed, or we have fought the good fight, society does not see us as or want us to become accomplished individuals. They can’t accept people like us being included in the making of things equal to them, even though we have a disability. It bothers them that we don’t beg and plead for help. Or that we do not put on a front, acting as if we are more disabled than we are. These experts think we can get more money and cheat the system. We challenge ableism within the system and its people. We challenge them just by being ourselves, by wanting better things for ourselves and our lives. They ignore our need to get reasonable accommodations to attain a calling in life. They don’t even try to help us, nor show a sincere interest in working with us to reach our reasonable, sought-after goal of being a contributing person in society. Unconcerned and unresponsive, they leave us to fend for ourselves. We are lucky if we find a partner who loves us and wants to take care of us, or else we must surrender control completely in exchange for basic survival needs and life in a care facility.

While the words I write here are hard for anyone to face, digest, or believe, if I had never met my husband and got married, I would be one more client in a facility. I’d be playing in La La Land, stroking stuffed animals on the couch, praying to the stars above to find a way out. Honestly, though, I don’t know where I would be. Because no one wanted to believe in me, take me under their wing or help me thrive. 

In Sean’s case, it’s even worse. If he can’t find or get a resolution soon from the university board members and divisions around him, despite all the steadfast support he has given them for well over 20 years, if his mother dies he won’t be able to take care of himself and his two siblings who have disabilities, too.

We both remain set apart. Dedicated to our sacred goal of making this a better world and committed to doing and being our best selves, we must face the truths of the words I speak. These realities won’t go away until we truly face these untruths. 

The question is: How would you turn your life around given your situation?

Text and image ©2026 by Karen Lynn-Chlup. All rights reserved.