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.

Dolls in Power

We have often noticed that the attitudes of the public towards people with disabilities can vary. We have not looked at our own attitudes towards the world and its impact. We haven’t looked at what we do and what we say to contribute to these unfair, intolerant, chauvinistic, bigoted behaviors. We all deal with prejudice and out moded ideas on some level or another. However, in some cases, it is far more direct and discriminatory than others. With some of us, it leads to an iron determination. Yet, in still others, it sadly leads to a desire where a person escapes into a safety net which they work, and operate the system only to run and control people, places, and things. These manipulations are very discreet, delicate, and impeccable. It isolates, all un to its self. And, it is all too easy, trouble-free, and effortless on the individual’s part. That is why it is so very simple, and easy to believe what experts say to us.

Sometimes like an over-seeer on a slave plantation, a person can carve out a small niche of power over their peers. It is simple and painless because they have no morals, ethics or emotions. They are cold and detached. They lack from feeling. Many a times in my life, I have witness first hand these unfortunate events. They take place anytime, anywhere, in any given situation. It can happen in so many different ways. We must learn to be one step ahead, as well as very in tune. It is a counterfeit for real genuine attempt’s to better one’s self and one’s situation. It is a phony, forged, bogus, sham to get something for nothing, or to take advantage of a person in a particular way, together with trying to erode someone’s good nature. The two best examples I can think of occurred years apart, in totally different situations, and at totally different times; but reflect the same idea.

In many incidents, outsiders, (persons’ or professionals’) seemed to think they have a right to control what it is “we” are trying to do, say, or accomplish with our lives. They try to get their way at all cost.

Many years ago, when I was working in a transitional center, for the disabled with Cerebral Palsy, my boss not only kept trying to alter my working conditions, but, made fun of my personhood. He made enjoyable and entertaining remarks about my disability, only to remain in complete control, and have direct command and power over me. Slowly, one incident at a time, my boss began to impose unrealistic job duties on me. He began to act in a cruel and insulting manor. He didn’t have compassion, consideration, or any kind of a sincere, kind of sensitivity; let alone an awareness of how to act towards others. He also couldn’t understand how important my work as a recreation director, and dance teacher was to me, nor, did he understand how valuable I was to his organization, the clients I worked with, or as a human being and a representative of the disabled community.

His determination for power to control me was at all cost, although, it cost him and the organization a very valuable employee, and taught them an expensive lesson. It harks back, and reminds me of another time in my life when I was bullied by a disabled girl, whom I thought was a friend. What she wanted was deceitful. Her devious, disingenuous, and false-hearted attempts only wanted my beautiful, well kept doll clothes. Again, it was the same issue and subject matter. She was convinced that she had a right to have what she wanted while being straight faced and disrespectfully witty with me. She was only fourteen years old, yet she knew exactly what she wanted, how to get it, and how to control and orchestrate the situation. Her quick and scheming mind won me over in minutes. She was so powerfully hungry, for whatever these doll dresses epitomized, characterized, and represented on a deeper level, that she would attempt anything to get her way. She was very clever, bright, and brainy. So subtlety smart- smart enough to influence and use me to profit in her own gain. She was exceptionally skillful and knew how to hunt and pray; by simply wearing me down.

This gal might have won me over that one particular day, and got the best of my doll dresses, but she didn’t get me! She helped me all the more! She taught me some significant things about myself, about human nature, and man kind. She also taught me about myself. For that I am totally beholden to her. I am grateful beyond words. These have been just a few lessons in my life. While at the same time, they have shown me what type of person I am, and what type of strengths and weakness, I possess. These experiences taught me what types of attractive qualities, temperaments, and behaviors I hold and wish to develop and build upon further. Long, long, long ago, I decided to take these teachings and turn them around. I decided to build upon the positive, even though at that given moment, I was angry, hurt, and frustrated. I decided long ago to take these lessons in stride, put them under my wing, and fly.

February is upon us once again…

Were have the days gone? It was Christmas only 2 months ago! In the hectic lives we all live and lead, we eagerly just keep turning the pages of time. The moments don’t stop for us, or for our convenience, they continually keep on ticking. Tic, tic, tic. Daily we look at our calendar’s. We look to see what we have scheduled and penciled in for that particular day.

Rarely do we stop for a second, to take a moment to smell the fragrances before us. We don’t stop to listen to the quit, stillness in the air. Still, we seldom stop to focus in on the unseen and the unspoken. We certainly don’t stop to mark or jot down those treasured seconds. We get caught up in the moment, deterring us from what’s really important to us. Too fast, the moments slip by. We forget to think about all the precious things that we are grateful, for. We forget about nice things that are said and done. Before you know it, in a blink of an eye; years and decades have past us by. Things that were once so very important to us, have melted away like the glaciers in the most high.

Now, the sweet ,sugar, coated aromas of the canopy fill the air. Red and pink pedals of roses are in plenty, and lovers will soon croon the tune “unforgettable.” The card store’s will be creeping with people hustling to hone in on the perfect card and gift. People will crowd the restaurants to celebrate Anniversary’s, birthday’s, and especially valentines day.

These celebrations are a reminder to value what is really important in our lives, which is time spent with those we love. In looking back, it is that which we remember.

Generations of Perception

Sitting in the quiet solitude of my own four walls, my mind and thoughts will gently carry me back to very clear images of my past. These vivid memories are a touch tone towards greater understanding and healing of past experiences that I have had. In a blink of an eye, it doesn’t seem real all the time that has gone by since my father’s passing and my grandmother and Uncle’s physical deterioration with Parkinson’s disease.

These three important people in my immediate circle, where products of another era. It was difficult for them to express how they felt and what they desired. But, they were all souses of life giving lessons to me whether I agreed with them or not. They were an instrument towards my understanding the generations of dysfunction and lack of hands on affection in my family, and the wisdom of a young child who saw beyond the whelm, and wanted to move beyond, and towards the light of a better way of living, interacting with others, and being harmonic within the world around me.

All of these people were viewing someone very close to them, dealing with a disability, in a time that was thought to make a normal life impossible. I was from the very beginning, determined to live as though I didn’t have the limitations of my body, or, the “crippling attitudes” of the larger society to deal with. It would never have seemed possible for me to go out into this world and thrive with the attitudes and beliefs I was brought up with. Because, most of my family; especially my mother, was caught up in the daily business of dealing with a disable child and everything that came along with it. While my father came from even an earlier generation than my mother, and he had lost his mother, and was raised by a grandmother, so his focus was on earning a living. That left little time for anything else.

I had to figure out a lot for myself because my father passed away when I was only fourteen. This was just one experience in a period of several years that I lost loved ones. This forced me to be very self reliant, confident, and interdependent. So, it was all put upon my mother to raise my older sister and myself. Although, my dear Mama Katie didn’t quite know how much I could handle, or, how to totally express herself to me or say what was on her mind; she truly understood that I needed a lot more to become the person I was meant to be.

It is hard to remember what a radical idea this was in a time of separation for our community very similar to the segregated south. My mother had to remember the balance I needed, so that I could thrive, grow and develop my inner and outer self. My mother needed to understand two great truths. First, that there needed to be time to relax, regroup, and rest. And secondly, this was even harder, I knew there were thing I needed to accomplish which she wanted to protect me from.

The first time my mother ever had the courage, the strength, and the ability to acknowledge her own error in thinking there were limits to what I could do, was the day I earned my college degree. Who would have thought, that a dysfunction so deeply rooted, could have melted 35 years of pain, hurt, and lose. I was able to use my own positivity to help heal my own wounds, as well as try to restore the physical strength of loved ones in agony. It takes a really strong person to not fall into the trap of isolation and self pity.

All of us reading this magazine had channeled this kind of strength and will power to lead a life and beyond that which experts tried to limit us too. I never fully recognized my inner strengths. But each and every hurdle, blockade and barrier I came across, which called me to full attention, I knew I had to face. I knew I had to deal with it, and I knew I could not run. I had to take the bull by its horn, and all that came with it.

I also knew that I could neither avoid, or refrain, nor deny. My strengths came out of experiences that I just mentioned. This would help me to help others when they needed me the most. When my uncle struggled with Parkinson’s, I was able to give him my positive ways of thinking to deal with his disease and the pain it inflected upon him for well over 10 years. Throughout my life, achievements have come out of my own struggle and the inner resources I have used to maintain a strong mind, body and spirit.

Dear Mr. President

A few days ago, I spent the day writing a very long letter to our new president. I sat contently doing so, for more than 4 and a half hours without a break. I was compelled and provoked by a powerful feeling that I could not shake. It reminded me of a very long time ago in my life, when I was only 24 years old. I began this journey towards becoming an advocate because there was no one at the time to help me, or to believe in me. Thus, I began to take matters into my own hands to not only help myself, by writing letter after letter, but to assert myself by speaking up. Little did I know at the time, that I was making this a better place for all disabled people to live. And that I would become a pioneer.

The night before, I had seen a program on my PBS channel, about President Obama. They shared with the television viewer his thoughts and feelings as a man; along with his upbringing. In detail, they described his life, his experience’s, and the inner stuff that drove him as an individual to reach his goal of becoming president. That touched a cord inside of me. This report, also gave us, the viewer, a painted portrait of our president, the qualities he possess, his characteristics; his determination, charisma, and his will to propel himself to move forward in his life, and his political career.

They even explained the step-by-step directions that he took. Watching this portrayal, stirred something within my gut. Maybe its because of all the issues I have taken on upon myself. Maybe its because someone else possesses the same drive and determination as I. Perhaps its because of all the fighting I have had to do to move forward in my own life to prove myself. And, just maybe it was my innate instinct to not be bullied by others, or be treated less then who I really was. But, whatever it was, It aroused a feeling in side of me which ruffled my furry feathers.

This sketch provoked me into action. It got my attention in a way that I could not rest at all. I was unsettled. I knew I had to do something once again to not only help myself, but to make a true difference in society. Thus, I followed my gut and my heart. I stood to attention, thought for a moment, and with an automatic barometer check, I became aware of my thoughtfulness. I was aware of a mindfulness within myself. So I listened and watched very carefully. I took heed with a vigilances. Once again I found myself taking action.

If you too would like to take action and send your thought to your congressman, senator, elected official, your voice will be heard too! You too can change the world.

A New President in Office

Yesterday, like many of millions of people, I stayed glued to the T.V. watching Barack Obama take the presidential oath. I found myself reflecting back to a time in my past when Martin Luther King Jr. gave his “I had a dream” speech. I was only 12 years old. Now, I find myself reflecting on the importance of this day, our world, how far we have come, and now, 45 years later, seeing for my very own eyes an African American with similar determination and a will of firmness and purpose become President of our United States of America..

My eyes welled up with hope, as tears of promise and resole spoke sweetly from the presidents voice. I welled up with the hope of hope that he well transform our world and our lives like never seen before. I shed tears from my past and what I have gone through, and tears that these kind of atrocities will never happen to other disabled people again.

I understand a more subtle but no less real form of stereotyping. I have spent a life time working toward full inclusion, but am still struggling with the spider web of social security. It is ridiculous that a woman who has published a book, won a law suit, created a website, got one of her degrees despite what the experts said; should be offer entry level jobs designed for people thirty years younger. If I were a member of any other group the outrage felt over this injustice would have exploded the universe. It would have been a Watts Riot in hell. I truly believe that our new president should look to the untapped energy, and, the un unsung leaders of our community to help solve the other problems he is struggling with.

All of us have expended immeasurable amounts of discipline, time, and energy fighting the system to live self-directed normal lives. It would be very nice if our leaders from both parties and all levels of our government would take the time to hear and listen, and wear our moccasins for a day. I think that there should be councils of people with disabilities to sit and serve on all levels of government to protect the vital interest of our community.

One Handed Wonder

Most of my articles, for the past two years, have focused in on emotions and feelings, advocacy, and, the daily struggle of living with Cerebral Palsy. My articles also have focused in on trying to maneuver amongst society, while maintaining self direction, and dignity.

For this month, I would like to focus in on a lighter issue. I would like to focus in on daily living skills. I would also like to focus in on left or right sided paralyses. From a very early age of 18 months old, I can remember my dear, sweet, Mama Katie teaching me to contribute to the house hold, even though I had the use of only one side of my body. I can vividly recall my mama calling out to me and asking me to help her clean. She would come into the living room, hand me a dust rag, and ask me in this wonderfully, sweet, New York accent to help Mama dust the legs on the coffee table. I was only 18 months old, and at that very, young, impressionable age, I can remember smiling and wanting to help. I can remember feeling good about doing what she asked of me, and, about myself.

Most people would not have believed that a child with a disability could do such a thing. But I did. Some how, deep in my mother’s progressive gut, she really, truly, understood something that the experts did not. Now a days, their is a lot of talk about progressive technology and voice activated equipment. However, you don’t hear much about anyone talking about left or right hemiplegia people, learning how to use there good side of their body’s to accomplish every day living tasks.

My mother some how instinctively knew that it would benefit the both of us if I could lead a normal life. This was unheard of during the time I grew up. Parents were taught that there was not much hope for their child, such as I. The fact that I learned these things at such a young age, that it was gentle, and non-treating, made me willing to help and learn. These skills would come in good use when I got a bit older. No one knew in my family what was yet to come. But the handy, useful, hands on approach, and teaching techniques of daily living skills, came in good use when my mother became a single parent, and at fourteen years old, I ran the house hold, while my mother worked and ran our business.

It felt good to know that my mother could lean on me. It felt even better to know that she did not have to worry about me or the house. I would get off the school bus, at about 4 O’ clock in the afternoon. I would put my books away, get my jeans and tee shirt on, and start in with the laundry. Oh how good it felt to know that I was helping my Mama. It felt nice to know that Mama could come home to a clean, spotless home with dinner waiting for her on the table.

It felt so good to know in my heart that I could be independent. That I could be trusted. And it built my self- confidence and self-worth. I felt useful. I felt like I was doing something constitutive, special, and, felt like I was conquering things in my life like everybody else without a disability.

Sometimes I think about all those many years ago, when my mother and I took on all the negative ideas about what a young girl with C.P. could and could not do. I hope the image of that girl will bring encouragement to you when you face something that seems hard. It might help you to remember that this was something that my mother and I decided to take on. This was something I did to help me become who I am, and what I have became today. Thankfully, this was not a goal that experts wrote down in an IEP report to gather dust in an archive.

New Years Reflections

Once again, Sean Dineen has written something for our readers. Enjoy!

“Well, my friends, another year will soon be over. All of you, have worked, achieved, struggled and triumphed. My heart is grateful for all of you, for the knowledge of what we as a community, endure and achieve is marked on your hearts. By God’s blessing I have been privileged to serve as a professor of history, and worked towards my doctorate to become full time and earn a living.

Despite great obstacles, and trial, that work goes on. My inner nature, will sustain my course. You, my friends have your own quest to go on. The average person, if there be such, doesn’t know. We have drunk the cup, poured out everything we are, to become. God sees all that we are my friends, in a way many in this world cannot.

Two other great blessings came my way this year. Our guide, and light, Ms. Karen Lynn, came and spoke at Kean University, shared her fifty seven years of working to break down the barriers put over our lives, by the self indulgent and inconsequential who sit in power, and shut their eyes to all we are. Watching her in front of a group my friends, is a joy without blemish. Her voice, sooths and compels in the same breath, professors who were never exposed, join us, aware of the unique role they can play in making achievement possible.

The years melted into history, and what I saw in the front of that room was the voice of our people, distilled and shared in a way, even I wasn’t fully ready for. She can see with a real vison, and a cleansing fire. So this group moved on, fully aware, and fully committed as we are, to inclusion and acceptance.

The other event, was my second visit to South Africa. This land of many peoples, and many trials, seems to almost physically, arch typically represent our struggle. The Afrikaner people, along with their English settlers, created a society, unlike any other, more committed ironically to disabled inclusion than any other land even in apartheid’s hay day. I spent two weeks exploring and learning in the company of Zulu politic ans, Shaagan tour guides, as well as people of Asian and mixed background.

This place, has become a second home to me. I cannot urge too much my friends, travel if you possibly can, its the greatest learning experience on earth. People of different beliefs and backgrounds coming together, is truly a blessing. Whatever, your disability, or financial circumstance, if it is possible, make the journey. It will also help in another way, to break down the myth, that we as a people, sit in drugged docility, unaware of the outside world. May God’s blessing wash over all of you.”