Karen Lynn-Chlup This Able Team Interview

Now that you’ve read my interview with This Able Team, you can watch and listen to it on YouTube. This covers my disabilities, my experiences growing up as a person with multiple disabilities, and how I succeeded at having a career as a dance and fitness teacher, even though the doctors said I would never walk.

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The Healing Horse, Ch. 20, Scene 1: Following Dr. Muñoz

diagram labeled egocentrism

Chapter 20 is all about how psychological testing can go wrong, about how a psychologist’s prejudice against a child with disabilities can turn an evaluation into a trial, in which the psychologist is judge and jury, and the school then becomes the executioner. Fortunately, little Kitten handles it in stride and does not let it break her brave spirit. (Image by Unknown authorUnknown author, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 1: Following Dr. Muñoz

As the image of Mrs. Pinzetti faded from little Karen’s mind, the bus hit a bump and shook her out of her revery. Then she felt herself slipping back into the memory of another scene that had occurred near the end of the previous school term. Just as a dying person sees his life flash before his inner eye, Kitten recalled her recent psychological evaluation with Dr. Muñoz, the new school psychologist—the one dark day during the weeks after her move into the new house.

Quiet, quiet, the silent hallway had instructed her. Not a murmur, not a sound, not even a whisper through the cracks under the classroom doors—a silence free from all activity, except for the footsteps of Dr. Muñoz and Karen, footsteps that reverberated in Kitten’s ear canals, footsteps that reflected his tone and his polio.

“Come with me,” Dr. Muñoz said, as he glared down at her. He demonstrated by stretching out his arm, pointing his finger, pointing it sharply toward his cubby hole, straight down the hall. His starched white cuffs stretched beyond his black wool suit, and the glitter of his gold cufflinks emphasized the flourish of his hand.

Karen looked down ever so slightly, sliding her eyes cautiously from his brown, balding hairline, down from his gray eyes, and down from his dark brown beard. Down, again, from his face, only to notice the pockmarks on his cheeks. She did not want to offend him. She did not want to make a spectacle of herself by staring, but she had to know.

He turned and strutted ahead of her, towering in his six-foot-two-inch body. His fine black suit was elegant, but why was it bulging at the bottom of one cuff? She saw flashes of metal, metal that looked like a brace, a piece of metal that resembled her leg brace.

Could it be? Karen asked herself. Yes, it could be.

“Come along. Come along, child,” he motioned and repeated in his deep voice and heavy accent.

His manicured fingernails caught Karen’s eyes, as their flash illuminated his every expressive motion with a reflected beam that blinded her sensitive visual perception like a lightning bolt. His words were respectful but his tone was harsh.

“Follow me, please. Please, child, follow me,” he limped and repeated himself.

Karen fell in behind him, but his pace was faster than she could manage. She knew he would be annoyed when he looked back and saw her trailing far behind him. Every time she lifted one foot and set it in front of the other, she became more anxious than during the previous step. She was picking up on his energy and the way he was acting towards her. While she understood what was going on in the spiritual realm and in the physical realm, she was spiritually fighting the negativity that reached her through his actions and demeanor.

She sensed that Dr. Muñoz’s nerves were on edge, too, and this made her nerves flare, even though the evaluation had not yet begun. She felt the fibers that carried sensations to her brain begin to shut down. Fear crept through her nervous system like a fungus, setting off sparks that clouded her senses, as they ricocheted and misfired throughout her body, telling her that she was not relaxed and that she was definitely headed for a bout of severe transposition, which would assure low test scores.

He’s the psychologist. He’s got his degrees, already! Will he help me get mine, or will he label me something I’m not? Will he make me out to be more inferior than I truly am? I must stay positive. If I could handle Mrs. Schmidt and physical torture, I am sure I can handle a shrink with a bad attitude.

She quickened her pace and heard the hallway reverberate as her brace buckle banged against the bars of the brace on her leg.

This Able Team Interview, Part 3

image of Karen Lynn-Chlup delivering a keynote address

This is my third post about my interview with This Able Team. The transcript follows and you can read it on their Instagram, too. Just click here. Be sure to read their other posts, too, especially with Dr. Sean P. Dineen.

The photo is of me giving the keynote presentation at a People First convention. As always, I emphasized the positive.

I was discriminated against by California State Rehab, and they labeled me mentally retarded on three separate occasions, because I did not do well on tasks. This actually started when I was 18 years old. I took my test and went in originally to ask for help to get me a job, because I knew I needed help. Instead, they gave me a battery of tests and conveniently labeled me mentally retarded and put me into a nearby workshop, like GoodWill Industries. It was devastating. I turned every situation into a healthy atmosphere. I smiled and went to work in this workshop with a smile on my face, doing whatever they told me to do, and I wore bandaids on every single one of the fingers on my right hand because I was doing it all with my right hand. And I stuck it out. And I made it. And then I got a full time job on my own, and I worked as a salesgirl and it was fine for a while. But then, I was criticized and bullied, because I could do the job with one hand better than other people could with two hands. It was hard, but I took the challenge on and I was not going to give up. I did not give up on hope inside of my mind. I just walked on and walked on. And then, when I was 25 years old, I had a one-time opportunity to work in the field of dance. It turned my life around. I was an Assistant Recreation Director and then became a Director. I did all the care plans, and I taught dance. I used my talents from what I learned as a little girl and turned it into a healing process for other people. And I just followed my heart. I didn’t do things fast to compete with other people, but I did it at my pace when it felt comfortable. I did so many things for myself. I won the first civil rights case because of the discrimination and I opened the doors for all people to have education. I was on the board of Disability Rights California. I just follow my heart. I wouldn’t let anybody do that to me. It took three years to find out that I won my civil rights case. In the interim, I worked and taught people, I did whatever I could.

The Healing Horse, Ch. 19, Scene 11: Mrs. Pinzetti

You can probably guess from this short scene introducing a new character, that she will turn out to be much darker in spirit than she first appears. Read on…

(Image by sarakgraves via Pixabay.)

Scene 11: Mrs. Pinzetti

As the bus continued its journey from her new home to her school, Karen recalled when she first met Mrs. Pinzetti, the physical therapist who replaced Mrs. Schmidt.

The new physical therapist was a nice lady with a kind manner. Mrs. Pinzetti always dressed well and wore perfume, makeup, and big golden hoop earrings. She usually wore a sweater with slacks under her white coat with the Physical Therapy patch on the left shoulder. Athena Pinzetti was beautiful, so beautiful that a sculptor could have chiseled her out of marble. Her thick, black hair was styled in a fashionable contour cut, with the back shorter than the sides. She had an olive complexion and thick, lush lips. She also had a round scar below her high left cheekbone. It was not a birthmark, but a small area on the surface of her skin that stood out, so unusual in color and form that people stared at it.

She stretched Kitten’s left arm and leg gently, and she promised never to hurt her. She called her Sugar and treated her with the greatest respect. Karen thought she was almost as wonderful as Miss Kimiko. However, as nice as Mrs. Pinzetti was, she did not have Miss Kimiko’s happy spirit. Her sullen, resentful irritability came and went. As time passed, she developed a dry cough and began clearing her throat constantly. Karen wondered if the smog were bothering her. One wrong word or a frown set off her temper. Her voice became whiny and demanding, and as she became more negative her constant use of the phrase, “Please come this way with me,” became a snarl.

This Able Team Interview, Part 2: Why I Founded Whispers of Hope

This is my second post about my interview with This Able Team. The transcript follows and you can read it on their Instagram, too. Just click here. Be sure to read their other posts, too, especially with Dr. Sean P. Dineen.

The photo is of me as a little girl with my dance teacher, the great Al Gilbert, who taught me to dance when the doctors said I would never walk.

Here is the transcript:

“I started Whispers of Hope back in 1989. I started it because I wanted to give myself to other people, to tell them that they’re not alone, that they can do whatever it is that they desire and what they want with their lives. I could be a voice to help them get through it. I speak professionally and I give my time without any charges to people who need it. That’s what I’ve done. Actually, I started advocating when I was a small child in grammar school. I had a girl friend who had cerebral palsy as well, but it was far worse than mine, and she was quadriplegic and had a speech impairment, she couldn’t do anything for herself. I used to help her in all ways, I used to feed her, we used to do homework together, we used to do everything together.

It was a beautiful interaction, it went through elementary school, junior high, and high school. When we graduated high school, somehow we just hooked up at the same junior college, Santa Monica College. We just kept our relationship from then on and it just built. We were there for each other. I don’t remember a time when there were many people in the schools who would do what my girl friend and I did, help each other be there for each other instead of bullying and hurting each other. We were there for each other and it made sense. It was almost like a family outside of a family. We were helping each other and empowering each other. When we had our appointments with the doctors, we would empower each other there. We would just work and give each other words of hope and encouragement, always.”

The Healing Horse, Ch. 19, Scene 10: Maneki Neko

image of ceramic maneki neko In this scene, little Kitten learns to tie her shoelaces, which is a challenge for many people, but remember that she has to do it with only one hand.

(Image by Searobin, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 10: Maneki Neko

A few weeks later, Miss Kimiko taught her to tie her own shoes. Mama had tried for years to teach her, but she had not had the right techniques and tools to help Kitten master this task.

“Hi Maneki Neko,” Miss Kimiko said to welcome Kitten. Maneki Neko meant lucky cat in Japanese. When Miss Kimiko spoke those words, Karen’s heart always lit up.

“Hi, Miss Kimiko,” Karen replied with her biggest smile. Miss Kimiko allowed Kitten to call her by her first name because there was a warm bond between them. Karen would always treat her with dignity and respect, just as she treated Karen.

“I am so glad to see you, today, Kitten. You are looking chipper, as always!”

“That’s because I’m here to see you, today!” Karen replied. “Am I still going to learn how to tie my shoes?”

“Ah, yes, you sure are. You are going to be the best shoelace tier in the greater L.A. area,” she kidded.

“What are we waiting for?” Karen asked in an imitation of Mr. Hinton’s voice. Miss Kimiko knew Mr. Hinton, and they both laughed.

Quietly settling Karen into a chair at the table, Miss Kimiko put a square of plywood in front of her. It had a leather shoe stapled to it, so that Kitten could practice tying her shoelaces without bending over to the floor.

“You take the two ends of the shoe laces, fold them over and under twice until nice and tight. Then you make one rabbit ear…”

Karen listened and watched carefully. After several tries, she mastered the skill of tying her shoelaces, and so Miss Kimiko taught her many of the basic skills of independent living.

The Healing Horse, Ch. 19, Scene 9: Miss Kimiko and Making a Stronger Left Hand

image of occupational therapy tools

This scene introduces a positive character, who counterbalances the twisted Mrs. Schmidt that we just met. Occupational therapists use all sorts of creative ways to help people of all ages improve their lives. For more about what they do, click here. (Image of some occupational therapy tools by Ashashyou, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 9: Miss Kimiko and Making a Stronger Left Hand

In contrast to Mondays, Thursday mornings could not come fast enough for Kitten. She looked forward to her weekly session with Miss Kimiko, the occupational therapist. It was like going to playtime with Tammy. Unlike the gloomy PT room, the occupational therapy room was filled with light that came through its spotless windows. The kitchenette with its chairs and table was spotless. The toys that helped her build dexterity were always clean. The floor was polished. The room had a feeling of quiet peacefulness that contrasted happily with the gloom and sullenness of the physical therapy room.

Miss Kimiko, the occupational therapist, wore her black, shoulder length hair in a stylish flip and outlined her brown eyes with medium black eyeliner that made them look bigger. She stood less than five feet tall and had a medium build. Unlike Mrs. Schmidt, she wore a neatly pressed cotton uniform. Even more unlike Mrs. Schmidt, she always smiled broadly and welcomed Kitten to each of their sessions. At every session, Karen learned something new and felt inspired to learn more.

One week, Miss Kimiko gave Karen two plastic squeeze bottles. They were connected by a flexible tube that went through their lids. The one that Miss Kimiko put into her left hand was full of water and heavy. The one for her right hand was empty and light. When Kitten automatically tried to trade the bottles, so that her strong right hand would hold the heavy one, Miss Kimiko gently stopped her by holding her wrists.

“Okay, Kitten, today we will play with these bottles. This will make your left hand stronger and help you learn to use both hands together. Okay? Does that sound like fun to you? You have a habit of using your right hand for everything, but today we want your left hand do the work. We will make it a strong hand, too. Okay? You can pretend you are squeezing chocolate icing onto a cake. That will make it lots of fun. Okay?”

Karen smiled and agreed. In a flash, she realized what Miss Kimiko meant about relying on her right hand. This was a turning point for her. Even though she knew that her left hand would never become as strong as her right, she was inspired to use it, and it did get stronger.

Did You See Me on Humans with Disabilities?

I was recently interviewed by This Able Team, and I want to tell you about it. The team is a group of people with the motto Fostering a disability community one story at a time.

Here is a transcription of their first post about me. You can jump right to it on Instagram by following this link.

Please let me know what you think! And be sure to check out the stories about my friend Dr. Sean Dineen.

Post 1:

“After the DPT shot, I went into a coma as an infant. It left me having left-side hemiplegia cerebral palsy, which is being paralyzed on one side. My right hand functioned normally, but there was very little that I could do with my left. My right leg was also normal, but it took several years of dance training before I was able to walk on my left leg without a brace. On top of that, several years later, my mother found that I had dyslexia. That explained why I could learn when given information orally, but we found that I got all mixed up when I had to do the written word.

I’ve faced a lot of challenges as a person with a disability. Despite having cerebral palsy and a learning disability of dyslexia, I have repeatedly done things that ‘normal people’ thought were impossible for anyone with a disability to do. I express my determination in many ways to make that possible for myself and to make the best life for myself. I became fearless and courageous, turning each and every experience into a positive affirmation and solution. Nothing was going to stop me from doing and adapting and being like ‘normal people’ in this world.

I found a seed deep inside of me, that said I wasn’t going to be defined by anybody, and that I was going to live my life just like everybody else in the world. I wasn’t going to sit in front of the TV and watch Popeye the Sailor Man. I wasn’t going to let anyone tell me that I was dumb, or stupid, or that I couldn’t learn, because that’s what they were doing. I had to prove to myself that I could take on the challenge and overcome every single obstacle in my path. And that’s exactly what I did. I tuned everything out around me, and every person who told me that I couldn’t. I came up with my own mantra: ‘You tell me I can’t, and I’ll show you I can.’

I have always felt grateful for my disability. I could have been far worse off. Thus, I remember every day that this is just a mere inconvenience. I always believe that my disability is a reminder to be an instrument for good in the world and a shining light. It has become my source of good to help share my voice and experience with others.”

The Healing Horse, Ch. 19, Scene 8: Aspirin, a Heating Pad, and Mama

image of bayer aspirin ad

In this scene, the sad story of Mrs. Schmidt continues, as Karen returns home and her mother points out that, even though the little girl’s ideals are high, her mother must deal with reality. Go Mama!

(Bayer Aspirin ad originally appeared in New York Times in 1917. See page for more info, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 8: Aspirin, a Heating Pad, and Mama

Karen brought her mind back to the bus ride. The new house is a lot farther from school. We still have a long way to go.

The evening after her disastrous physical therapy session with Mrs. Schmidt, Mama had given her an aspirin and put her to bed with their heating pad on her throbbing knee.

Mama sat on the edge of the bed and hugged her, while Kitten told her what had happened.

“Mama, I wonder whether Mrs. Schmidt’s treatments are helping me or hurting me. My muscles always feel tighter, afterward, and they should be looser.”

Then she told Mama about Mrs. Schmidt and the Nazis, and about learning to deal with reality and bearing pain and accepting being inferior and helpless.

Mama’s face turned a deep gray, and she slowly stood.

“I thought this was all over—the Nazis and the cruelty and the torture and the anti-Semitism. I can’t believe that this Mrs. Schmidt can treat you this way and brag about her Nazi sympathies, too. How can she get away with this? With you or with anyone? You would think she’d be fired. I cannot understand why the school is employing a person with Mrs. Schmidt’s beliefs, especially to work with handicapped children. I understand that Mrs. Schmidt’s sad childhood may have shaped her ideas about life, but her cruelty is unconscionable.”

Karen replied that she felt she understood Mrs. Schmidt. She would treat Mrs. Schmidt more compassionately. She did not take Mrs. Schmidt’s behavior personally. She would treat Mrs. Schmidt with kindness, as one would a sick person.

“It’s time for you to sleep, my Krana Layala. You are in pain, and your body has been injured. You must rest so you can get up in the morning and do your best at school. You have high ideals, but I must be a realist. I promise that you won’t have to deal with this poor, sick Mrs. Schmidt much longer. You may have some handicaps, but she is completely wrong about you being inferior, and about you having to accept anything you don’t want to. You go to sleep, now. I need to call Mrs. Sinclair and talk this over with her.”

The Healing Horse, Ch. 19., Scene 7: On the Mat

image of Statue of Liberty with fireworks

Happy New Year, everyone. This has been a big year for me (Karen Lynn) and for Whispers of Hope. We now get almost 6,000 visits to the website, monthly. The count is growing, too! So, my message of hope in the face of reality for those of us with disabilities is getting out there, and that is wonderful for me! (Image courtesy of Kuldeep, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

In today’s post, little Kitten (that was me) is tortured by a sadistic physical therapist, and all under the auspices of a school district. As Stan Lee said, “Nuff said…”

Scene 7: On the Mat

“Karen, have a seat on the gray mat. We have a lot to do, today,” Mrs. Schmidt said with a sneer. “And please remember to remove your shoes.”

Karen looked at Mrs. Schmidt with a neutral expression, as if she had heard nothing from the hallway. She ignored the implied insult that she could not remember to remove her shoes before stepping onto the mat. Thick and gray, it rested on a wooden platform, three inches above the floor and a yard from the door. Karen sat and removed her James and Williams high-top brace shoes. After coming to Mrs. Schmidt for a month and a half, she knew what would happen, next, and that she would come out of the therapy session feeling like a half-ton pickup truck that had been hit by a thousand-ton locomotive.

Without looking up, Karen slipped off her brace and right high-top shoe, and then lay down on her back. Mrs. Schmidt sat down hard beside her. Karen noticed that Mrs. Schmidt always left her own shoes on. Perhaps the laced, two-inch heels were hard for her to get off and on, or perhaps wearing them gave her a sense of power.

Mrs. Schmidt straightened one of her own legs, and then grasped Karen’s disabled left hand. After pulling Karen’s arm as straight as she could, she placed Karen’s elbow on her thigh. Using her thigh as a fulcrum, she pressed down on Karen’s wrist, forcing Karen’s elbow to straighten all the way, and then bending the left wrist and fingers back to hyper-extend them.

“Oh, boy!” Karen said softly, in a tone of mock eagerness, then, “Ouch! That hurts! Can you be a little gentler with me, please?”

Mrs. Schmidt smiled in her hard way and looked Karen in the eye.

“You cannot always have your way, my dear girl! Life is about dealing with pain. You have to learn how to handle it, sometime. You’ve been sheltered too much. You have not lived a life like mine. Once, I was a child, too, and I saw people destroyed because they were handicapped or weak.”

“Really,” Karen replied in a sympathetic tone. Mama had told her about the Nazis killing handicapped people as well as Jews, so she knew she would have been at the top of the list for the concentration camps.

“Ja! I learned the hard way how the real world works.”

For a moment, Mrs. Schmidt’s voice had softened, and Karen thought she might have reached her emotionally, but then Mrs. Schmidt loaded on more pressure.

Kitten’s left arm felt like a coiled spring being unwound. Other therapists had extended it slowly with little discomfort, but Mrs. Schmidt stretched it quickly and held it straight. Karen forced herself to count the seconds of the three minutes she knew Mrs. Schmidt would hold it straight. Her bicep and elbow burned and stung even after Mrs. Schmidt let go.

“Karen, you are not cooperating with me, today,” Mrs. Schmidt said, her voice hard, again. “I cannot do any more for you with that exercise. Get onto all fours so I can hyperextend your elbow and arrange your fingers from another angle. They look very curled, today. Hurry up! I cannot understand what takes you so long. You are wasting my time. I cannot wait until you are ready. This session is taking too long. I am due for my coffee and cigarette, and I cannot have them until we finish your program. Hurry up, or I’ll report you to Dr. Lambert for not cooperating with your prescribed treatment.”

Kitten stayed quiet and thought about Mrs. Schmidt’s background, as she eased herself into position. Mrs. Schmidt immediately slammed a sandbag onto her left wrist and held it down while forcing the elbow to bend the wrong way and prying the bent fingers straight.

“Ow! Don’t you care that you’re hurting me?” Karen moaned.

“Karen, you must accept your limitations. You must accept that I am being a little rough because your treatment must be like this. If it is not, then it will not be effective. This is the only way your arm and wrist will straighten out. This is the only way to improve their function. You have to toughen up. My job is to help you get tough, even if it hurts a little.”

Karen twisted her neck to look up at Mrs. Schmidt, but found herself stared down by the PT’s angry gaze. She felt rage touch her as the therapist ran her eyes up and down Kitten’s body, glaring particularly hard at the disabled left side. Karen looked toward Mrs. DeLuca, who was working with another student on the other side of the room, but who refused to meet her eyes. The student looked back with sympathy as Mrs. DeLuca gently worked on her, but as a disabled child, she was afraid to speak up. Kitten did not want to cry, so she said nothing.

“I have created this stretching program especially for you, my dear. I have created it based on my own professional experience. I know what is best for you. I must execute these exercises exactly right, regardless of any little discomfort they may give you or me. This is not the time for feelings or compassion. Our bodies are machines, and we must treat them as such. Do you think I enjoy sitting on this mat? No! But I do it to help you.”

Karen tried not to resist. Resistance increased the pain. Suddenly the three minutes were up. Mrs. Schmidt released her arm and wrist as abruptly as she had taken them.

“Now for your last and final exercise, Karen! We are going to stretch your left heel cord.”

Kitten could not stop herself from wincing. This was always the most painful treatment. She rolled from the all fours position and sat on the mat with her legs straight in front of her. Mrs. Schmidt looked deeply into her eyes as she reached for Karen’s left knee and pushed it hard into the mat. Under Mrs. Schmidt’s pressure, the knee bent the wrong way and immediately throbbed with pain. Mrs. Schmidt smiled as she gripped Kitten’s toes with her other hand.

Karen tried to relax, but the coming agony terrified her, and her muscles involuntarily tightened. Mrs. Schmidt squeezed her toes together, so that they hurt. She pulled the toes toward Kitten’s knee, still looking into her eyes with a darkness.. Karen could not look away, in spite of the pain. She felt tears sting and flow down her cheeks. Mrs. Schmidt squeezed and stretched once, then let the toes move back to their normal position. Karen sniffed to keep herself from whimpering. Mrs. Schmidt squeezed and stretched, again, even harder, and the pain increased. The treatment consisted of five stretches, each one more painful than the last.

“Karen, you must try harder not to resist me,” Mrs. Schmidt said, as she released Kitten’s foot and handed her a tissue. “Now dry your tears and go back to class.”

Karen’s eyes stopped tearing. She wiped them and blew her nose. Looking around, she saw that the therapy assistant and the other child were staring at her, their faces full of shock. Mrs. Schmidt was smiling in a relaxed, satisfied way. She looked happier than she had since Kitten had entered the room.

“Why do you smile, Mrs. Schmidt?” Karen asked.

“I smile because I know how much this is going to help you! I know because I know what is necessary to make this therapy work. I know because I’m not afraid to challenge you.”

Mrs. Schmidt struggled to her feet and flung open the hallway door. “Your session is over, young lady. You can leave, now. It is time for my cigarette break. Try to have a better attitude, next time.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Schmidt. You have a very nice day, too!” Kitten replied.

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