Remembering Our Fallen Soldiers

Every year, for the last four decades, I can’t help but think of all our fallen soldiers who paid the ultimate price and sacrifice. I can’t help but remember their precious lives and what they gave to our world. Having Cerebral Palsy, and knowing what it is like to live a life without the full use of all my limbs, I cannot stop thinking of all our young man; especially our injured boys who once had full use of their bodies. Now, they have to deal with something they never new before. Now, their lives have been altered for good- and now, they are left to pick up the pieces and to hopefully be positive and set an empowering example for other.

I remember the day my mother called me up at work. I remember her voice and how it sounded- I remember her telling me how we just got word that my cousin died in the Viet Nam war. Oh, how distinctly I remember that event. It never goes away! We were heart broken. We were shocked, traumatized, and devastated. This was a young, handsome man who ate, slept, and drank the idea of becoming a helicopter pilot.

We as his family could not stop him. We had to let go. We had to trust and believe that he would be safe. We had to believe that he would be guarded and protected from harm. We had to give him our love and good wishes to freely live his dreams to his highest. But oh, how special he was! How talented and kind a human being he was- Now an unsung hero who was only acknowledge by his loved ones and family.

And oh how it left my family. Know one truly know what it feels like unless you experience it yourself. The grief is unbearable. And the overwhelming sorrow, that’s a story all on its own. I am sure no one is ever the same after losing a loved one. No one truly ever recovers. Especially the parents!

We, the children, are supposed to outlive our mother’s and father’s. Not the other way around. We are supposed to bring joy and happiness to our family’s lives. Not hurt, and pain. So when it happens, it happens with a huge impact and an enormous bodily sensation such as mental suffering or distress. It causes a massive amount of torture, trauma, and torment.

Thus, I ask all you reading this to love those around you. Be respectful of other people’s wants, needs, and desires. Think less about yourself, and more about giving unconditionally. See what it does. See how it changes you- think less about what you need, and find unspoken ways to do something nice without anything in return. Bring someone happiness today. Show them that you truly care. Show your family or loved one the true meaning of giving from ones heart. Show them before it’s too late. Tell them what you’ve been keeping to yourself before it’s too late.

This Memorial Day let’s vow to make a difference. I dedicate this to you, Jerry.

Common Courtesy: A Step Up in Communication

What does one think about when writing or sharing written material with other people through Twitter, You Tube, Disaboom, or Myspace. These modes of communication are to fill and enrich peoples lives, not bring unpleasant experiences. I know how uncomfortable it can be as when I was younger I could not write. As an infant, I was paralyzed due to a DPT shot. My body became paralyzed, and I had a severe learning disability which made me struggle pretty much my entire life, although, today, I have learned new ways to compensate, new ways to work through my fears, and I have found new ways to work under pressure. That is why having a common courtesy is so very, very important as one does not know who they are meeting over the World Wide Web. While my learning disability is not as severe as it once was, I still have my moments to this day. That is when being kind, caring, and tolerable comes in. One never knows whom they may encounter or meet. One never really knows what they may say while communicating that will offend someone deeply. Now, when I meet individuals like this I don’t let it get to me. I shrug it off. I use my positive tools to let it go with ease.

I want you to know that this is not always easy. In the past 3 decades I have not only learn to overcome and succeed in dealing with my problem, and what others may say, but I have supper seeded all my expectations of what I thought I would become. It is very humbling to remember that which I came from; as in my late teens, I could not even write a letter by myself. I remember my mother doing it for me. So, remembering this helps me to keep my communication skills up. It helps me to stay very humble and modest. The other thing that keeps me unpretentious is being myself and not coming off knowing that I know it all, egotistical, or un-kind. I have never for the sake of it just been un-caring, to others. I have always reach out with a warm concern about others and a concerned feelings to rise people up, not to tear them down! That is a common courtesy we aught all have. While speaking to other people and communicating with others it is nice just to be nice- I think twice about how I would like to be treated when I write back to someone writing to me. I don’t want to come across too abrupt, too conceded, or even too contrived. I remember always that people have feelings too, and that their feeling count just as much as mine. I remember you can’t take back words once you’ve spoke or written them- I also remember that while reading other peoples emails, writings, and blog entries to be kind always as I know what I reflect out to others, is a direct indication of my attitude and well being. So, I am not so quick to judge anyone.

I also remember when I was in my mid twenties, I remember a dear, dear friend lifting me up by sweetly saying…” write what comes to your heart and mind and put it to paper. And so I do the same now. I pay it forward. I want you to know I took to heart my friends empowering words and have been writing ever since. So I am the last to say a critical word! I have not only written an autobiographical, “THE BROKEN HOOF” but I write for two different disability magazines. I make sure my writing can help someone in some way. I make sure I write a whisper of hope to encourage and empower. A whisper to lift and rise. And a whisper to show that one truly cares!

My writing has become a tool in which I express myself. It is something I love to do, and find fulfillment in. I take much pride, and joy, in the things I write and share with the world. They have meaning. I try to teach and impart a personal closeness in what I am trying to convey to my readers. Writing for me is very therapeutic. It is an instrument to meet others that have the same interests as me; as well as helps me get comments and informal come backs from others. It is a way for me to center myself after an especially busy day. And, it calms me down, as helps me listen to that quiet, still, inner-voice of mine. Moreover it gives me a reason to sit down for a few minutes, all alone in the quietude of my own inner being. This is something I can give my all to. Something I can rejuvenate myself with, and something I can transcend, surpass, and go beyond any thought I might have or chose to develop. It gives me that sound strength to scribe on.

Writing has not only become fun for me, but it has become a vital implement to share, teach, and express my feelings and emotions by which I choose to share as a messenger. It has become a certain kind of vehicle to which I can convey. Thus, we who have been selected and gifted with this amazing tool and means, let us be a positive instrument for all to convey this common courtesy.

What is in a Word

“What’s in a name?” Shakespeare wrote in Romeo and Juliet. “That which we call a rose by any other name smell as sweet.” I ask you, what do you think of the word Handicap? How does it affect you? How does it make you feel? And, how does it digest within your own conscious and subconscious being. Does it make you angry, hurt, enraged, or does it make you feel beside yourself? Does it leave a bitter taste in your mouth, or does it make you feel more at ease or comfortable?

There are so many definitions for this word; handicappable, disabled, cripple, and challenged; these are only a few descriptives’ that are used regularly throughout our world today. Each on there own, carry a big weight. Each, by themselves, takes on a whole new meaning, connotation, and undertone. Depending on how we see, think, and perceive things, within our own selves, lives, and the world around us. That will be the ultimate determining factor. It all depends on how we see things and look at life. Our impressions, perceptions, and concepts- This is called our belief structure. All of these factors make up conviction. Particularly, what we were taught by our own parents; friends, and family members.

Each feeling, and each judgment, based on reason or actual experience, along with specific prejudices and pre-conceived opinions and ideas can and will affect us, as well as alter how we live, and view the world and people around us. They can all vary a person’s belief system. What one person thinks is positive; another could find it down right rude and insulting. I pose this to my readers to not only open up this word for discussion, and dialogue, but to create a safe, and secure atmosphere where we all can talk freely and openly as well as acquire the benefit of each others experience, so that we can gain a whole new outlook, understanding of, and interpretation to not only encounter what that word means to us, but, what it means to each other, and all it represents.

Having Cerebral Palsy, myself, and hearing these words all my life makes me think about how others feel. It makes me want to ask questions, see how other people think, deal with, and react to these words; but it especially make me what to know how you have been swayed and molded. It is an unavoidable reality that these physical challenges and daily occurrences change how we all look and deal with life on a daily basis. They are all too real. It not only impacts other people’s lives and attitudes, but it affects those directly closes to us. It absolutely affects whom and what we are; as we can see concrete results taking hold in all areas of our daily lives. We are an exceptionally aware species, who have a six sense. We can tell when others hold back what they truly feel, when one interjects with a conniving control, and begins to assign rules and regulations of what we are and aren’t truly capable of doing and becoming.

Why, you may be asking yourself? Well, because people will be people. People well look at us and judge us thought their own prism of experience. They will look at us through their own light and transparency. They will intellectually think they know better or more then us. That is why it is so very important to analyze our own thinking, our own attitudes, and our inner most thoughts.

There are so many old fashion words, and terminologies that are still used in today’s culture and society that are derogatory, and show a critical or disrespectful, disregard for us as people. Even though out-mouted, these words are still used. They seek to limit us as individuals and our dignity as human beings. They take away all our pride to move forward. Some of these ideas and concepts sell a forced notion and an obligation of what we are and are not allowed to become. In every aspect of our lives, there is an entire set of rules and regulations written and unwritten which the general public believes and leans towards. It is imperative that each of us, in our own way, search our souls at our core root, and make a conscious choice to be visible, and communicate these feelings within our community.

The more active we communicate and share, the more confident we become. We gain a self-worth to reach out more to others, as we inspire and encourage. As we do this, we summon up hope for all. We help others to get out of themselves, as we aspire others to think new thoughts, and reach for new goals. Moreover, the more we engage freely in all activities, the more empower we become. Not just to help ourselves, but to help each other as, we breakdown the walls of isolation, separation, and exclusion. We easily and effortlessly introduce new ideas and ways to look and maneuver through life.

The more active and willing we become, the more engaged and committed we become to give back and make a difference in our community, in the things we say, and the friendships we have entrust, the more we summon up and invoke a new belief system. We initiate insightful meaning in things we share dialogue about. We have a chance to make a difference, open up new channels, and make new passages towards the way people talk, think about us, and use words from there heart. By being mindful, sympathetic, and conscientious, people will learn to treat us with dignity, and respect. By doing so, we will be passing it forward. We will be making a difference, and hopefully, change people’s attitudes. Perhaps one day they won’t utter words of contempt. Life will takes on a whole new meaning as we become a vital voice, and source contributing to everyone in our community.

In closing, I think the most important thing to remember is to retain ultimate decision making over our own lives. That is the only way we can thrive and survive in this world. That is the only way we can make a true difference. It is the main ingredient to live up to our fullest potential. This way, we will demonstrate to all those around us that our word and desires mean something and have merit. We will exhibit to the world that we want our thoughts, and our desires to be taken seriously. We will show everyone that these wishes are to be reached for and to be fulfilled. And that no one can take them away from us. No one!

By demonstrating our determination and staying steadfast to our thoughts and beliefs, we will teach the world and the people around us that our word means something and warrants respect, admiration, credibility, and is to be valued with high-regard. If we hold fast to these truths at our core the impossible will become possible!

Psychology and the Study of Sensibility

The greatest challenge that we all face within the disabled community, is the understanding of the psychological make up of those in authority with which we much deal with. Day in, and day out, throughout our lives, we encounter people whose understanding of our needs and abilities is very different than what they really are. So, a great deal of our time and precious energy is spent by bargaining and negotiating for the right to exist, live, and survive. We are the only group who must seek the permission and consent of experts for activities which any other sane and rational adult can undertake without question asked.

When I decided to attain my college education back in the middle seventies, I had a burning desire to quench my thirst for the knowledge I did not get in twelve years of normal schooling. To my self appointed guardians, this was absolutely crazy. My thoughts, to get an education, and self-direct my own life was dismissed, misdirected, and shelved, for someone else’s idea of what seemed appropriate. These experts were determined and resolved to force me into their limited idea of passive mediocrity. This ordinary labeling was not my destiny. This ordinary labeling was going to get me as far as the couch. This ordinary labeling was supposed to stop me in my tracks. It was suppose to stop my self-governing will, my self-directed freedom and especially my morel independence. Their helpful advice was supposed to shape every aspect of my existence.

It took a law suit and years of waiting in unbearable agony to make my dream possible. Every trick in the book was used. Every ounce of strength was used, and every effort was made to push me to go too fast so I would emotionally and mentally quit. But I was stronger than that! I was stronger than they ever thought possible. And in the end, they wound up yielded to me. Although, my victory was not total! It was nevertheless permanent.

This pattern has happened to so many of us, in different aspects of our lives. But our iron will, and pure hearts have enabled our personal victories. They have enabled us to move forward. They have enabled us to have some sort of peace of mind. And, they have given us the ability and know-how to function in a certain way which has empowered us; even though they continually, subsequently try to assert and impair our vision. I set my standard. I was confident throughout it all. Now it is your turn to set your bar.

Modalities: The Means and Method of Attaining and Learning

In our society today, our school systems are overly programmed. They are out-ofdate, outmoded, and obsolete; lacking with an old-fashion appeal from the fifties, lending, little support services to really help anyone at all. Our children are suffering and paying the unforgivable price, of real learning. They are being bunched together in classrooms, given busy work which they cannot always do by themselves, and, they are expected to learn with unrealistic expectations. Our children are not grasping the material presented to them at all. And, they are left frustrated, bewildered, and to fend on their own.

Where is the genuine care and guidance from our educators? Where did it go, and how did it stop? What happened to the love of knowledge and learning? Where did it get lost? And how did it slip through our finger tips? It has tragically been abandoned by the men and women we call our board of education, our representatives, and our teachers.

Sadly, though, it is not totally our teachers fault, as they are given these mandated, fixed agendas by which the head principal gives predetermined programs. There is absolutely little leeway, creativity and or flexibility, for the teacher to develop, build-upon or expand, there lesson plans; which leaves little thirst, hunger, or drive on the students’ part to desire, to long for, or to crave. Those teachers who have taken on the administrators, have been reprimanded, and ultimately been honored in the long run by having movies made of there outstanding dedication and excellence. For that reason alone we must strive. As without this devotion and loyalty, there is an absence and aching in our children’s hearts and minds. Our teachers are looked intently by their hierarchy. They are given little freedom to move about or to arouse the triggers within each child’s mind to stimulate willingness and a longing to learn. As a result, lesson plans are geared and guided on a much lower levels. These rote skills only benefit the students at the lowest level.

Furthermore, teachers are full fledge baby-sitters, and prison guards; expected to keep law and order in the classroom at the expense of nurturing those particular individual minds and special talents which need molding, shaping, and a whole lot more attention and consideration. Many go unnoticed or falsely labeled. The true purpose of learning is to develop each individual’s talents. Not to just give them material to memorize.

Sorrowfully, our educational system focuses on practical skills rather then, a hands-on approach to draw from. It is excessive, and ineffective. Our teachers need the leeway and latitude so that they can expand and develop individualized learning styles and plans within each classroom setting to increase and broaden the scope of their pupil’s minds. To release these old methods from our schools would free us from the old style idea about education, which focuses on pacification, and industrial economy which is no longer relevant.

When will we execute these new ideas? When will they take hold? When will we learn from our past? And, when will the repetition and the recurrence of these unproductive acts end? Will we together take a hands on position and help make these disparities be obtained. Together our voices are louder and can be heard. Personally, I think that for society to really function, we need not only to change the way we look at educating our children, but we aught to think pro-actively, look within our own selves, and work in unison to find a whole new approach.

We need to look beyond what is, and envelop the whole child. Then, find the ways which work best for each of them, uniquely. We also need to enshroud our student with hope. We need to bring to the classroom a reason to want to learn, and we must as teachers be true examples and messengers. We cannot just talk the talk anymore. We need to induce as well as invite our classroom students to the many methods, methodologies, and hands on material, as well as develop certain new techniques and ways that carry importance, stimulate, and motivate to the highest capacities, while maximizing while teaching our students.

Additionally, we need to make learning fun, exciting, and accessible; especially for those like myself, with learning or physical disabilities. We cannot be looked down upon because we have dyslexia, or shoved into a corner; neither should we be put behind a partition because they don’t really know how to cope with us, nor, do they really want to help or deal with us or our problems.

We have to some how inspire, inject, and infuse our students as we pass on, and impart the true meaning of what we are teaching. Some how, some way, we need to broaden and change their perceptions and expand their scope and the way they think, reason, and look at life by provoking and evoking new ideas. But much more than all this, we as teachers and educators must plant the seed and demonstrate unconditionally that our students are precious, priceless, worthy of all there is to offer them, and valuable young men and women on the road to succeed.

Assumptions & Arrogance

After another year winds to a close, I have often been moved deeply. The years, months, days and hours past through my heart and mind like a stamp stuck on paper.

It takes me back to all those moments and times that people’s arrogance and assumptions held me back from what I was trying to do.

Because of my rebelish nature, I was not only able to survive but thrive. I was able to do a lot which people in power, thought was impossible. But it would be very naïve of me not to tell you of the extra effort I have had to spend because of what people in the twentieth century were taught to believe about my disability.

I can’t help but think about these moments going around and around in my head when I reflect about how much time has had to go by. Time that I could have been contributing to a caring world- Time that could have healed all wounds by a simple gesture of acceptance- Time that could have carved out recognition for not just me, but for our whole community.

Instead, I have had to run up over and over again against the electric chair of official stupidity. Of official neglect- And, of voluntarily lowing of self!

I have had to beg time and again, as I have had to explain the obvious to every expert imaginable shape and size.

What I knew was never enough. It had to be done on their terms.

I was labeled and mislabel mentally retarded all because of an IQ test, and people in power who only pretended to know what they were doing.

Fifty-eight years have gone by. Fifty-eight years of sheer hell on earth. Fifty-eight years which I have smiled, grinned, and bared it, and made bearable. For what?

But who will give me my youth back? Who will give me the degree I was so worthy of? And, who will give me the job or recognition I have busted my buns for? Whom, I ask? Whom?

Why do I have to be tide to a stake for someone to gloat over? Why do I have to suffer for someone else’s arrogance? Why did I have to waste my whole life away?

Why We Can Still Love

Did you ever happen to wonder or think twice about the basic, essential facts and the fundamental truths of men and women with Cerebral Palsy? Have you ever raised the question within yourself about our feelings on romantic identities, and why it is that we as challenged individuals cannot be looked at equally, talked to on an equal basis, or understood completely? We are dismissed because our disability is thought to make us stupid. Do you think it is always us? This area of dissection, which is readily unspoken about, is most difficult for the largest part to swallow. It is hard to believe, to the average person’s eye; that there indeed are some very capable people out there with disabilities such as myself.

Unfortunately, people find it to dark an area to discuss, or talk about, let alone- cope with! It is all too easy to put on our rose color glasses and hide with a false comfort. In general, people and the world around us would rather ignore the matter at hand. They would rather turn away from the neediness and the desperateness that over-shadows disabled people’s true being. They would rather continue to believe the myths, and regard us as the “cute, innocent, naive children” forever living in this forgotten bubble, who have no desires at all!

This morose and morbid fascination with our capabilities, or to be more specific, our incapability’s in the romantic arena or lack there off is ignored. The fact that we may wish, or think of having an ordinary, healthy, friendship, or even a romantic relationship with another consenting, loving, caring, human being; much less get married, is just too disgusting, too revolting, and too sickening. It is too extreme, too challenging, and too confrontational. Moreover, it is very provocative and shocking to others and the norm.

For pretty much my entire life, I unyieldingly struggled with every bated breath I have taken. Not only was it for my own core essence and being to exist, but, it was in my chosen passion, which was of the arts… It was the desire to be able to express myself freely in a world of dance, music, and literature; which helped me to relinquish and release the bars that I wore on my leg and in my brain– also, because I did not want to be looked down upon as a typical helpless victim.

Thus, I did everything in my power to strive and thrive- I had wants, needs, and desires, and I wanted to be given the same equality and chance to express myself in the areas I loved and cherished most. I reasoned… that if other men and women of my age and generation could accomplish their goals and dreams- including having a boyfriend, then why couldn’t I! I could easily work on my inner-self- my strengths and weaknesses, to become the best person I could be. I felt that that was the healthiest way to approach my life. However, too often, others where quick to judge! Consequently time and time again I was put to the test- only to searched my soul, readjusted my thoughts, and daily re-committed myself to living that healthy “normal life,” in a society, which continued to tell me “I couldn’t!”

My self-worth came from the gentle, romantic way in which I cared for myself. It was the way that I dressed, the time that I took to primp and fuss, and the way I took that extra moment to look the very best that I could for each given situation. It was the way that I nourished my body, my mind, and the way I acted. It was the honest and pro-active, empowering way I conducted myself. It was the way I looked up to those eloquent people who were positive, happy and joyfully succeeding in life. I took the good, positive; things I liked, and let go of all the rest; as I continued to develop a sense of my own inner-being. I began to see how others were attracted to me. They began to look beyond my left side hemiplegia, Cerebral Palsy, and learning disability. They began to see me for me. Thus, I embraced myself and my life even more than I already had. My romantic sense came from all this innate wisdom, insight, willingness to change, and the knowledge I read.

Yes, I have been challenged, ridiculed, stood up on dates, however, disputed all the intense examinations, crewl remarks, I have risen despite the harshest of securitization. I have found a man who loves me for me, and I have happily been married, for twenty years now. Despite my physical challenges I was able to find a love, a partner, and a life of my own, despite what the world thought of me.

Incident Under Investigation

It was 1976, a day like all others. I was 25 years old, walking out of a beige and brown stucco building from a meeting that just ended with California Department of Rehabilitation. What was different was that I had had just about all I could handle! I was infuriated, humiliated, and dishonored. As I walked out the door of the office, and took the elevator to the main level, step by step the anger grew inside of me. I felt as though I had just been whipped and tortured.

I walked to my car, opened my car door, and began to cry hysterically. I was hurt, marred, and very wounded. I was just told that I would not be able to carry out my life the way I desired. Somebody else in power was trying to impose their idea of what a “normal” life or a person with a disability should be.

I was told that I could not go to college like other “normal young adults.” I was conveniently labeled mentally retarded for a second time in my life, and my dreams of becoming a dance and recreation therapist were shattered. My dreams of learning the things I never learned in 12 years of grade school felt like they were being stripped away for good. My chance to live a life, like everyone else, and to be looked at with dignity and respect were immediately being crushed, trodden over, and violently subdued.

All I wanted was to be able to live my life like all people. All I wanted was to be accepted in this world, and society, and live a productive life; with purpose and meaning in the areas I knew best. All I wanted was a chance to move forth, to learn, and to better myself, and the conditions I was all too familiar with. I wanted to succeed and make something of myself. I did not want to fritter my life away in front of the television set becoming a vegetable of the state.

I had much, much higher goals and expectations of myself. I had far more dignity and pride than they were willing to toss me. And, what’s more, is that I had far more tenacity and courage then they could ever muster! They did not know who they were dealing with. Know body knew who Karen Lynn Hershkowitz was.

I wanted to do more. I was open, resilient, and receptive to learn. I was willing to do what ever it took. I wanted to properly be able to construct and write a clear, clean, concise, put together sentence without any help from others. Not so far fetched in this 21^st century, although for the 20^th century, which I was born, and raised; it was an enormous obstacle! They were not going to allow me to learn. They, the (State Department of Rehabilitation) were not going to allow “this” disabled person, with Cerebral Palsy and a learning disability to go to college. It’s very true that we are conveniently discriminated against and still are subtly.

I was not going to put up with this indirect abuse. Nor was I going to sit back on my laurels. Something snapped. Something deep within my soul told me to not give up or give in. I got in my car, drove home and began to plot. I could not sit still on this matter. Thus, the next day, I was writing letter after letter and making phone call after phone call to file a lawsuit to solve this issue at hand. What I did not know is that I would have to fight this battle completely alone. I did not know how long this would take, or how much agony I would have to go through. But I knew that I would be fighting for an entire people.

This act that I was about to take, had never been done before. It had never been undertaken so boldly, and never had such a person such as myself; from the disabled community, chosen to break out of what “the experts believed she could do!” So bold the act was, it never been dreamed of before. No one in the disabled community before me ever had the nerve, guts, courage, spirit, and bravery to challenge the system, and the established stereotypes, and all their beliefs, verbal battering, and contempt’s for our desires, efforts, and needs, were held to be meaningless.

I would not sit in an office, and surrender control of my life and being; to a perfect stranger, who sat higher on the totem pole, without any understanding of the price I had to pay. They had their degree, they had their title, and they were determined not to allow me to have either. They could handle more severe versions of my disability because those people they thought could be controlled. There was no way, heaven on earth that I was going to be controlled, manipulated and forbidden to carry out my plans or destiny in the manor I saw fit. It would take years, but I won. I got the degree, and now, twenty-eight years later, I am proudly working towards a B.A.

Promise of the Park

“The Promise of the Park”

Friday, February 5th, 2009

REVIEW by Professor of American History Sean Dineen, MA, Kean University, NJ

The history of disability inclusion began earlier than you think, although the issue has always been a struggle. We in the Disability Community have spent our lives watching the struggle for inclusion unfold, bit by bit, inch by inch, and sometimes, by the grace of God, triumph. It is very easy to fall into the misunderstanding that no one was really thinking about “our issues” prior to 1973. It was my pleasure to learn that this is not true at all.

I recently observed Theatre in Motion’s musical play “The Promise of the Park,” a fetching, time traveling tale about the first American park open to everyone, New York City’s Central Park, and its maverick first Architect in Chief, Frederick Law Olmsted, Sr. “The Promise of the Park” is well-researched and handsomely written by Ms. Leslie Fanelli (Artistic Director and Founder of Theatre in Motion). The performance I saw was engagingly fresh and exciting, juxtaposed to the fact that Central Park’s history germinated in the nineteenth century.

It took sixteen years to build and officially open the park in 1873. This was a full century before the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, which laid the foundation for equality in education and physical accessibility in government buildings in the twentieth century and beyond. In the nineteenth century, Mr. Olmsted and his co-creator, Calvert Vaux, designed Central Park as largely physically accessible via the use of ingenious landscape architecture—specifically, the park’s sunken transverse roads. These sunken roads separated “the frantic zeal of the cross-town traffic” from “the rustic beauty” and patrons traveling about the park. In fact, in the original 1857 design called “The Greensward Plan,” Olmsted and Vaux had pointed out that the transverse roads would allow for the inclusion and safety of people with disabilities—and ladies (in big, hoop skirts)! Olmsted and his two sons would go on to design thousands of American landscapes, and in 1893, Olmsted, Sr., designed the grounds for the spectacular Chicago World’s Fair. He also designed breathtakingly beautiful grounds for a number of hospitals. In this arena, he was brilliantly ahead of his time because he espoused bright, air-filled treatment rooms, in place of the stark “cells” of the era. Plus, of course, he believed his lovely grounds to be naturally therapeutic. It is ironic that he spent his last few years after acquiring dementia in the McLean Psychiatric Hospital, where he had previously designed the becalming scenery.

Throughout his career, the genius landscape architect Olmsted saw the need to use public spaces to bring people together. In a time when any concern for the non elite was dismissed as radical, or dispensed with the disdain of paternalistic disengagement, a public park for all humankind to share—black and white, rich and poor—was unheard of. Even before he sustained his decided, permanent limp in a frightening carriage accident, he understood the need to integrate those with disabilities into his parks, and by extension, the wider world. In fact, as Ms. Fanelli’s play reveals, he designed the first wheelchair accessible trail to the top of Mount Royale in Canada in the 1870’s.

The play is executed in a whimsical, yet compelling manner, like all of Ms. Fanelli’s vibrant works. In “The Promise of the Park,” she is director, actress, and singer—in addition to being the playwright. Her teenage persona (along with her friend and conscience, “Amy”) is played with zest and humor. Ms. Amelia Fowler as “Amy” is endearing, piquant, and funny in her role. In one scene, they are having a picnic in the park when, to their disbelief, they encounter Olmsted himself, who has traveled through time to see his beloved park in the twenty-first century. Initially, they cannot believe that Olmsted, whom they have never heard of, is anything more than an actor or confused soul, but he is able to convince them that he is, in fact, Central Park’s first Architect in Chief. That accomplished, the three share an exciting journey back into the park’s creation, after which, they time travel forward into the present to better understand and heed the critical environmental concerns facing the world now.

I would be remiss not to mention Bill Houpt at the piano—a fine, keyboard “one man orchestra.” He not only plays the pleasing accompaniment, but plays the sound effects, as well.

The lion Olmsted, brought to life by Mr. William Dembaugh, experiences great wonder at this new world. He believes a jet plane to be a new bird, and the tall buildings on the perimeter of the park to be incredible structures, especially because in 1873, there were virtually no buildings surrounding the park—and certainly none as tall as today’s skyscrapers! He proceeds to teach and mentor the two young people on how to protect this park treasure that he has given to everyone. “The First American People’s Park.”

As the mighty protagonist Olmsted, William Dembaugh is humbly resplendent. His exquisite, tenor voice captures the beauty of Olmsted’s life and work. The entrancing music, created by an artistic team headed by Ms. Susan Mondzak, is delightful and, when needed, dramatically engaging. “The Things I See” and “Back in 1873” are bracing, musical stand-outs. With regard to the musical drama, Mr. Dembaugh is careful to portray Olmsted not as an archaism, but rather, a forward-thinking, inclusive artist.

Yes, indeed, the history of disability inclusion began earlier than you think.

Frederick Law Olmsted, Sr.—a man of his time, a patriarch before we knew what that really meant.

Theatre in Motion is an award-winning, professional, non-profit theatre company that features intergenerational creative and performing artists with and without disabilities—serving intergenerational audiences with and without disabilities via original dramatic and musical productions.

Theatre in Motion’s New Music CD, “The Promise of Central Park,” is available at CDBaby:

http://cdbaby.com/cd/theatreinmotion

A Beam of Light

During the last month, I have experienced a good many aha moments. Moments of clarity, moments of enlightenment, and moments of vision. All leading me to develop a deeper sense of myself and the life I live, and am committed too. A life that I have led with purpose, meaning, dignity, and desire. It has been a worthwhile journey with all its upheavals, challenges, changes, and, cataclysm events.

Because of this, I now can delight in the magnificent moments I have, the wonderment of my own growth, and, the opportunities to share with others. I have been blessed with the ability to focus in on the good, the positive, the inherent attributes I have achieved, as well as have been invoked with some kind of divine favor, by which I have been given the good fortune, possession, and talent to give it away freely while gently empowering others.

I have continued to receive great pleasure and delight from my many acts of courage. To go where no one else has ever gone before. To make straight my way, and, to shed light in a way never heard before. This light is beaming brightly because I listened to my own drummer. Because I felt my own heartbeat, and because I would not take no for an answer. I made my way through this harsh, cold, unpalatable, cruel world. And am making a seat at the table.

I have never cease to keep my vision alive. I have never cease my dreams, nor have I stagnated in the act to become the best person I could become on all levels of my being. Physically, I exercised. Emotionally, I let go of old ways, ideas, and beliefs, adopting new ones in its place. And spiritually, I not only envisioned today, but I envisioned my future, and how I wanted to change my life’s journey. It took me a while to figure out how my life was going to unfold, when it was going to take place, and when it was going to come to fruition! My whole life’s journey has been a series of passages and quest, towards an ultimate diurnum, in my souls pathway toward a balanced, harmonic, way of life.