The Pied Piper’s Taps

The Pied Piper’s Taps:

Al Gilbert, the legendary “Pied Piper of Dance,” was born, Allesandro Zicari, on July 12, 1921. Al came from a generation in time, when people valued one another and truly cared. During that time, people really seemed to genuinely treasure one another’s friendships and supported their endeavors. This was in an age and era without technology. Thus, people reached out more to one another. They talked, were friendly, and neighborly, and they built relationships and bonded. They tried to make life easier, more palatable, and they freely and without reservation lend a helping hand. People, of this era also assisted by helping unconditionally to those that were less fortunate.

Al Gilbert, affectionately known as “Uncle Al, Star Maker, Dance Educator, and “teachers’ teacher” career lasted well over 60 years. He was a no-nonsense instructor who inspired and motivated all. He was internationally known, and could simplify steps in a way no one else could. “At a time when nothing like it existed, Music works website says it best…Al’s revolutionary vision to create instructional dance material for dance instructors and their students generated a trend that changed the entire dance industry.” Al codified syllabi for tap and jazz and made a long, lasting impact on the dance world. From the earliest days, when he worked side by side with his brothers, on the back street-corners of Rochester, New York, Al Gilbert made dance even more accessible without even realizing it.

It was 1954, a beautiful spring day, in the state of California. My mother was driving down the street, Pico Blvd. in the city of Los Angeles, with me by her side, in our 1952, two tone, blue hardtop, Chevy. Momentarily, she looked up, and spotted a sign. It read “…Al Gilberts Theatrical Dance Studio. Being the progressive thinker and person that she was, she turned the corner, parked the car, took me by my little hand, and walked into his front doors to talk with him. That was well over 45 years ago. It was a very magical moment as he greeted us both. After seconds of entering his door, my mother and I both knew. It was my privilege to be his friend, his student, and become a teacher, who has carried on his precious legacy to our disabled community in so many ways.

There is not much talk or literature on Allesando Zicari, and how Al gave of himself and his time unconditionally to the disabled world. So I will. He helped all that came to him. Even those disabled girlfriends, who I went to school with; whom my mother personally recommended.

Al Gilbert, dance teacher, poet, author, and humanitarian, proposed to come to my handicapped elementary school and give of himself and his talents unreservedly. He was enthusiastic and eager to teach other disabled children, and give his time to our community. Although, even the master in taps that he was- because he did not have a college teaching degree, he was blocked by “the experts.” Time and time again he “proved it could be done” while the experts said it couldn’t! He was a leader in his own right, and made an impact on everyone’s life he touched.

Including mine! I remember that day well. I remember vividly. I was a young toddler, only three and a half years old. And, to remember so vividly, after so many years is truly a blessing. I remember how he unconditionally loved, me, and how he gently took me under his wing and nurtured me. I remember how he taught me to dance, and how he would look down at me with his smile. His kind and mild temperament along with his encouraging words, taught me how to hop, skip, jump and run. He also taught me to point and flex my toes, and gain movement in my ankle that I may never have developed if it weren’t for him. No therapist ever gave to me like he gave of himself. Because of his teachings, and his techniques; my once twisted body, straightened out, along with my left leg. Now, not only did my dragged foot and flopped, out to the side gate, correct itself- But I was able to hang my full length brace up in my closet never to wear it again at the age of 11 years old. His unwavering dedication and devotion week after week, year after year, recital after recital of lessons taken with and without my brace proved to dramatically change me and my physical being.

Gently but firmly, I remember him reminding me to bend my knees; while doing shuffles, shuffle hops, or shuffle bal-changes. I can recall him clearly telling me to turn my knee out for better positioning, and I can remember hearing his voice on his tap technique records. Al gave me a ballet bar too, along with a book about a little girl who had week legs, who got strong again through dance- only to become a ballerina. On another trip, he came back with symbols. His unwavering unique, and loving approach towards me, tried every way possible to motivate and encourage.

Every chance I could while at home, I would practice after all my other therapies lessons were done and completed. So, with discipline, a willingness, and an open –mind, I would put my record player on, only to hear Al’s soothing, voice instructing me as he always did.

I also can remember him making my lessons fun, calling my mother up to have her bring me into his studio for extra lessons, without any charge. He use to say to my mama… “…that Karen’s smile was payment in full… that that was all he needed.” On another occasion, he even began piano lessons. He made this fun as well, as his playful side would come to check up on me and the piano teacher every chance he could. Never once did he let on it was to make my left fingers and hand stronger.

I remember the closeness we had, and how our friendship grew and developed over decades and time. I trusted him, I respected him and his word, and I talked to him like he was my daddy, when I lost my own. He became the temperate figure I looked up to for strength and endurance. He became the rock and pillar in my minds eye to endue all. He gave me a quiet love, acceptance and devotion for not only dance, movement, and rhythm, but he bestowed upon me a burning desire and passion which could not be denied. His love and enthusiasm for music, rhythm, and man-kind was passed on, body, mind, and soul. I knew what I wanted to become, and I was going to become it. I was going to follow Al Gilbert’s footsteps even though I had Cerebral Palsy. I was blessed with the same gift, as Al… I was born to dance just like all the other students before and after me that he endowed with his skill and talent.

Pondering the Past, and Guiding Individuals Towards Their Future

Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Thank you for inviting me to your school today, and to share with you a part of who I am. This afternoon, I will not only read to you a piece of my autobiographical book,” The Broken Hoof,” but we will move together in rhythm, while teaching, and, I will empower you with some videos of where I have come from and what gifts I’d like to give to all of you. I’d liked to help you learn that “Anything is Possible” if you put your mind towards it.

You are all sitting here before me now, because deep, down inside of your own heart, you believe in yourselves like no one else does or ever has. You believe in your own individual’s gifts and talents. And you believe that you are very special, in a very unique way. Each and every one of you, just like me, I’m sure, has had to overcome challenges and extreme difficulties. We all have these difficulties and obstacles, however, not all of us have the courage and strength, to face up to them, accept them, learn from them, grow from them, and change our attitudes in a positive way, while becoming willing to do what ever it takes to reach the goal we desire so badly.

Today, we will find new techniques; new approaches, and new ways to bring about these changes within ourselves, our attitudes, our beliefs, and our lives. We will begin right where we are now. And we will do it with unconditional acceptance and kindness. We will learn to be gentle with ourselves and our feelings. And, we will learn to accomplish our challenges one at a time. Today we will have some fun exploring ourselves with some of these methods.

We as individuals, have the power to change, along with change the world around us, but only if we have that willingness. This willingness within, will take us on marvelous journeys, but only if we trust this power of belief, then and only then will our accomplishments be unlimited.

When I was your age, the young people who surrounded my world, were all disabled. Why, you might be asking yourself? Well, I’ll tell you. When I was five months old, I got very sick. It left me with the paralysis you see today on my left arm and leg. I could not go to a regular school, because I could not learn like other children my own age. I had a learning disability called dyslexia. This learning problem made it very, very, hard for me to read, write, and do math like the other children in my classes. Thus, I had to go to a school that had children with Cerebral Palsy, like me, polio, multiple sclerosis, down syndrome, and other disabilities.

These were the only young people that I knew. So I had to create different ways to learn. I had to motivate myself, and tell myself that I could pass a test. I had to learn to be open minded. I had to learn to believe in myself, and to believe that no matter what my outer appearances looked like, I could change it. I would keep telling myself that I could change my life and the world immediately around me.

The difference in having a disability now, verses when I was a child, was that the educational system did not have the laws that you have today. I was pushed into classes where I was not learning like the other children around me. And when my mother got the first special education teacher, by talking to the principal, I was put in a classroom, behind a screen, to figure things out for myself, while sitting all alone for hours at a time, to fend for myself.

Finding my dance teacher, Al Gilbert, changed my life completely. Through his caring, gentle, and poised composure, I learned by example what it took to give it to myself, and then, eventually to all of you. Everyone of you here today, are here because you want to be here, you want to change and make your life better, and, you want to find and develop your gifts and share them with the world. This is and can be possible. It is all encompassing.

I would like to share a little bit of the journey I took to try to change some of the attitudes about what people with my disability were able to do. I spent a lot of time trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle called learning. Just as dance had made my body and spirit strong, now I was on a quest to find the tools which would unlock the door for me. Inadvertently, I helped unlock the doors for all disabled people.

I understood intuitively, that I would some day have to ultimately care for myself completely. To do that, I needed a good job. To get that job, I needed a higher education. And, I needed to learn all the things I never learned in 12 years of my fundamental schooling. The people, who were supposed to be helping me, sadly didn’t see thing the same way I did. They felt I should settle for something less than I believed I was capable of. To make a long story short, I fought and won the first Civil Rights Case in California, this guaranteed my right to earn an Associate of Arts degree in English and dance. While I was at college, I found helpers who understood my desire to learn all the things I never learned before.

This now led me to succeed in many different areas. I became an adaptive fitness instructor, an advocate, a published author, and a public speaker. My book, which I am going to read from shortly, was published in 2006, but took over twenty years to complete. And, in its infancy, it won second place in the Kaleidoscope Literary Prose Fiction Art award of 1983. I know every one of you has something to offer and give to the rest of the world. It is all about unlocking it. My hope is that my story and my visit here with you today, is the key that unlocks a door of deep desires for you. My other hope is that you find the power within yourself to succeed and the ability to be positive in every way. I hope that by me speaking here today helps you to find the area, the talent, and the gift you so joyously feel within your heart to give and share with the world.

A Long time ago, I found a poem by a famous British amputee; William E. Henley. He lost both his legs at the age of 12. When I first read these words, in college, these words from Maya Angelou sung sweetly in my spirit. Angelou first sees this as a mark of paternalistic contempt. She is held by a white superintendent in school who has just told her class, to be content to be athletes and cotton pickers. She turns it into an anthem or song of praises for our people and hers. It goes like this… “It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishment the scroll. I am the master of my fate, the captain of my soul.

I leave you with these sweet empowering words- take them home with you today to conquer and triumph! Make a positive mark on this world and leave a path behind you that no one else has ever left before.

Thank you for allowing me to share this with you, today. I will now answer any questions that you may have or that cross your mind.

Why We don’t Want to be Good Little Robots Anymore!

Dear Friends, there is a very important topic I would like to bring up for discussion today. It is a hidden well, a well of attitude shown towards so many of our self-styled helpers. It is usually done with the best of motives, but leads to disaster.

This happens by the attitude of our so called professionals who, with cleverness, have correctly shifted the attention away from internal childhood which has gone to another extreme. Such help as we may need it seems as bad, indulgent, and unnecessary. We must be like everyone else, in “their eyes,” yet we cannot be ourselves in a healthy manor or way, we can only be healthy-minded if we mindlessly conform to their way, wants and controlling desires.

The organs of this philosophy, came from an error. Practitioners saw the futility of the old… “poor helpless baby” approach, and, they wanted something better. Although, the error really came when they took it upon themselves to transform our lives without consulting us. Since, intellectually, we could and were able to compete, the practitioners had to change it quietly. They assumed that all of our needs for emotional support, recognition, and some form of assistance were also, counterproductive. So, led by that female wizard, Bertha Tiberaus Bobath, they began to impose a regime of harshness and a cold business like manner; not seen since Watsonian behaviorism fifty years earlier.

Thus, we began to resist out of our own desperate desires and need for a true independence in terms of taking responsibility for our selves and our own lives. We wanted to make our own decisions, which we knew we could. We knew internally that our thinking was vital, just and right. We knew we could succeed. All we needed was a compassionate expert to be on our side. To walk, talk, and guide us; as they helped to open the doors to the bigger world. That to us was all important. That to us, is all we needed!

Our Independence as an end in itself is counterproductive. But to have a true balance was not recognized at all. The value of a balanced, moderate approach was not in existence. Each one of us, knows what we need. We know better than any parent, expert, or teacher around. We need to be heard, listened to, and taken seriously. I personally am so sick and tired of seeing this noble concept of independence used as an excuse not to give us the needed help, we really need. My question is… when will they genuinely and harmoniously give us what is truly needed. All these untruths, rubbish, and excrement leads to frustration, anger, and sadness.

This frustration is based on having to apologize for ourselves time and time again, and to right the wrongs they have manifested to fruition, The need to get the assistance that “WE” truly needed to move forward in our lives is ignored piously. This energy, becomes very exhausting, and would be far better spent trying to improve our lives, instead of wasting it in justifying the facts of… what we said and how we said it… or, to pass the butter please, rather then, the opposed to being able to get it ourselves.

The far better approach, would be to say to us… “How can I help you, rather than how can I force you to unnecessarily do something you neither want to do, or is beneficial to you? It is not in their vision. They cannot see what we truly are about or what our passions are. These measures are effortless because they do not really want to help us be constructive or productive, human beings. They rather cause undue embracement by excess rather then be truthful and honest.

How can we change this? Are we willing to speak our mind? Are we willing to fight for our lives? Are we willing to educate and change the system we live in one issue at a time; by telling those experts how we truly feel. Are we willing to go to any lengths to not let them get away with this anymore? Are we willing to let our voices be heard. I ask you. Can we come together as disabled individuals backing and supporting each other unconditionally in our cause to an equal right to our civil rights- or are we meekly going to let life pass us by, by sitting in a corner, being afraid to speak our minds, and twiddling our thumbs! I ask you?

My Writing

It is now three weeks since I have returned home, and 11 days into the month of June. Where I live, the June gloom has covered the skies until about 1:00 p.m. pretty much every afternoon. I have gotten back into my daily routine, and I have been happily writing. Yesterday afternoon, I started an article that will be published in next months Audacity Magazine and before this article, I had two others published. The two older articles, now, have already been posted. One on Audacity Magazine, online- the other, on ldonline.org I welcome you to read them and comment on here if you like.

From where I came from, I never really thought that this desire of mine would have come true to fruition. As I can remember how difficult writing was for me. I could not write a complete sentence with my dyslexia and learning disability, nor could I punctuate in the correct way grammatically. It was a daily struggle which brought tears to my eyes many a times.

Now, when I write, I am truly, amazed that these words are pouring out from my mind and heart. I give thanks for my ability to write and reach others in the way that I am doing.

Across the Miles

Since I last wrote, I have crossed the ocean and flew over three thousand miles to address the Historical Society at Kean University, as well as advocate in a friends defense. I took a beautiful, scenic train ride up to Massachusetts, where the vistas captured a quiet peace within myself. It laulled me into a place of traquility where no one could distub me or my oneness.

I was away from home for three weeks, and while in New Jersey, I received an email asking me to come back to Kean University next year to speak to an even bigger audience of individuals and professionals. How sweet the sound…

Thus, I go from here to inspire and empower, and to reach more of all of you…

Untill next time…

A War Against the Enemy

The canopy shines down upon me with it’s bright beautiful light, spurring me on with its powder blue sky’s to keep on keeping on. Its warm, soft fibers wrap me up in a comfortable, soothing blanket where I have been blessed to have people who care about me, and can guide me, and help me, and lead me to problem solve, and fix this 2 month old frustration and dilemma I’ve been having to maintain and fix my blog; so that I can continue to write my entry’s to all of you.

It is indeed a blessing, because I was beginning to wonder if I would eVER get this thing working again. I am so connected to writing and sharing, and touching other individuals lives who have Cerebral Palsy, a learning disability, and aNY other kind of developmental delay; that I do not know what I would do if I couldn’t write, connect, or reach out in the way that I do.

Thus, I want to thank all of you for being patient with me as I keep moving forward to make this blog and my site the best you expect it to be. I welcome all your suggestions and kind words, as I continue to fight the good fight and continue to speak up for the rights of people with disabilities and advocate on your behalf!

I will climb the highest mountain, and speak the truths as I see them. It has been well over thirty years since I have started on this path and no one, no where, no how, will stop me from empowering and inspiring and leading the way to real solidarity in the world we live in today. We must forge forward, together, in unison. We must do this by continuing to break down the walls and the berries that separate and divide us. We must keep our chins up, and face our foes head on, and we must continue our battles in a constructive, positive, reaffirming way. We will succeed, and keep succeeding, and conquering, but ONLy if we lend our hands to another.

If you want to wage a war against discrimination, or in any mater- we must all work together in partnership and truly heLP each other across the board like I was today, and yesterday, from a fellow CPer.”?))))))))) If we all find it within ourselves to help or lend a helping hand to one another we will all better ourselves.

How I Prevailed and Progressed Forward

By Karen Lynn

April 2008

Dear Professor Frare, colleagues, friends, family, and students of the Kean University Historical Society. It is an honor, and a privilege, to stand before you this afternoon. Thank you for asking me to be your guest speaker and to be here today.

It would have hardly seemed possible when I began this quest, for me to stand up before you today and express everything I have worked so hard to overcome throughout my entire live. I am not one to idly sit back on my duff, waiting for others to take action for me, to think for me, or to decide my entire life for me! It has been a long journey. The stakes, very high! But I have survived this path despite all its jagged roads and turns, and more challenge’s than most people could ever imagine. I have almost reached the mountain top and all its glory.

And even thought my shuffle bal-changes were not like Sammy Davis Jr.’s, my taps were like music to my soul. My achievements in dance not only set me free in body and mind, but empowered my sense of worth to move against barriers and odds that seemed impossible to the “normal” person’s eye. This dichotomy between what I knew I could do, and what other people wanted to limit me to, would happen again, and again, and again in every aspect of my life. The image that society has about people inflicted with Cerebral Palsy, or C.P. as the insiders call it; is an image of a C.P young boy or girl staying eternally cute and helpless forever- but in all truth and reality- we C.P.ers grow up to be adult’s, in adult bodies, with the same outer systems we had when we were children. The only difference is that now, our outer manifestation has changed. Puberty has arrived, and we have grown up and matured. We are like everyone else internally, with the same wants, needs, and desires, although, our outer envelopes are very different, externally, in that we are disabled.

We aren’t so cute anymore. It repulses people to see us wrinkling; in hammy down clothes, drooling from the face, and needing help from other’s to accomplish our daily living tasks. To society, it’s not so appealing any longer, it is a turn off, and thus, we are tucked away quietly and conveniently in guild edges detention homes, not wanting to be looked at or visited except for those experts! Thank goodness, I made a decision not to end up in this way. And, thank God, I had the wits and ability before me. I not only had a mother, who shared the same visions and desires as me, but she worked tirelessly to give me that independence even when no one else believed it was possible.

Fortunately for me, my mother had a lot of courage and internal strength. She was a very, very progressive and pro-active person. She had a very special way about her. And though she was very serious about my care and the way she cared for me, she also had a presence and foresight about the things that I was going through throughout my life. She also had a warm, gentle, caring, and most loving manner about herself. I could not imagine having anyone else but her to call my Mama! She nurtured me with words from my ethnic tradition, understanding that I needed the encouragement and room to develop as a person in order to grow and accomplish those things in my life, that were so essential to my being. She prepared me to fit into the landscape of society.

It wasn’t that easy, though, as I am still climbing the ladder to my success. But, I have kept going! I have done to the naked eye, things that have looked impossible. I have learned to hop, skip, jump, and run, in a full length leg brace, when all the “experts” looked at me with their tongue’s hanging out with amazement. My mother knew when to listen and when to stand up for me. One time during my clinic evaluation, my mother insisted that my leg brace be unlocked so that I could walk normally instead of with a locked leg. I learned to dance, while the experts at school would not allow my dance teacher, Al Gilbert to come and teach others, because he did not have a degree, yet, he knew more then the doctor’s or therapist knew! I even got a job, with my mother’s help; as a sales girl. Shortly there after, I was promoted as a PBX switchboard operator, rather then settling for the label of being “Mentally Retarded”, or working in a workshop amongst people who had more severe disability folding boxes.

The very people who should have been cheering me on, and looking outside the box- actually made things worse for me, and hindered my life. I understood all to well about the way the bureaucratic system worked and how unfair, rigid, and out-moded it was. But, I was not going to go away quietly. I kicked, and scream in my own tasteful manner, and let them know that I had a right to an education, even though I had a disability, and needed an alterative approach. The system, its processes, the counselors, along with the tools, methods, and methodologies didn’t work, and they didn’t measure my ability correctly. Regrettably, this is an area where great improvement and research still needs to be made. But the greatest improvement that needs to be made is in people’s understanding.

The fact that I am here standing before you today shows that idea’s are changing.

This university has been a pioneer in accepting disabled people on all levels. It has taken well over 30 years – step by step to get here where we are today. So let us vow to ourselves and the community to do everything possible we can to open our hearts, minds, and spirits to end all discrimination.

In spite of all my kicking and fighting, I made every effort to work though channels, by going along with the “experts,” and having an open-mind, but it did me no good what-so-ever. They just wouldn’t and couldn’t see that I was going to fly despite their authoritative decisions. With all the determination within my gut, I had to do something to turn this around. I had to be positive, and I had to have faith in my own ability to change my circumstances, the system, and how they treated the disabled. I had had all that I could take. I had decided that I was going to be treated with dignity and respect. Thus, I had to be strong-minded and listen to my own heartbeat. I couldn’t be swayed, and I had to have a will of iron in order to face the perilous journey before me. I would have to file a law suit which no one ever filed before. And I would have to spend countless hours writing letter after letter, and phone call after phone call. My dance lessons were simple and easy compared to this mission. Once I sat down with the lawyer who was going to represent me, I felt as though I was dancing without a disability at all. Doing a soft shoe, and using my left foot and toes in the graceful way that I was taught, was like a piece of cake compared to this.

The lawyer mentioned to me that I could either win this presidential Civil Right Case and open the doors for all disabled people, or lose it completely. So, with batted breath, I waited for three and ½ long years, to get the verdict. And, I had won! Six years, from that day, I earned the A.A. degree which was the foundation for everything else I worked so hard to achieve. I would become an adaptive dance and fitness instructor, mastered the art of cooking, and being a responsible, independent, and productive human being. I even perfected my writing skills and publish my autobiographical story, “The Broken Hoof,” which, in its infancy won second prize in the Kaleidoscope Literary Pose fiction Art Award of 1983.

I even was elected to sit on the Executive Board of Protection and Advocacy Inc, developed my own website at: www.whispersofhope.org, and have written many articles as I continue the fight to speak out and make this a kinder and gentle place for everyone to live in. I have given to others without thinking twice about myself in a selfless way.

In closing I will leave you with a few very important thoughts before I answer any questions that you may have for me.… Search your hearts and souls and see how you can made a difference to pay it forward to change our world and someone else life- How can you personally change the course of someone else’s life that needs a helping hand? How can you as a professional personally make a difference? How can you find ways to break down the walls of discrimination that bind individuals from moving up the career ladder of opportunity while looking out side the box? How can you truly mentor and inspire other’s and help them achieve their dreams and choices? How have you personally done something today to value and respect a particular individual’s goals and dreams without judgments or conclusions? And how can you take an active role to help someone who wants and needs the path and way made straight? Can you dig deep to look beyond yourself to mentor and take an active role to make this strangers dreams come true? Can you really value the lives of others by valuing there human rights? Can you honestly turn your backs from competition and competing with those who need it the most? And finally how can we all take an active role in winning the war against discrimination?

A Long time ago, I found a poem by a famous British amputee; William E. Henley. He lost both his legs at the age of 12. When I first read these words in college, these words from Maya Angelou sung sweetly in my spirit. Angelou first sees this as a mark of paternalistic contempt. She is held by a white superintendent in school who has just told her class, to be content to be athletes and cotton pickers. She turns it into an anthem or song of praises for our people and hers. It goes like this… “It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishment the scroll. I am the master of my fate, the captain of my soul.

I leave you with these sweet empowering words- take them home with you today to digest! Think of ways deep within your own consciousness on how you personally can make a positive mark on this world and leave a path behind you that no one else has ever left before.

Thank you for having me here today and for allowing me to share a little piece of my life with all of you. I will now answer any questions or thoughts that may cross your mind. Again, thank you for having me.

Between Reality and Mythos

by Sean Dineen

April 2008 – Volume 4, Issue 4

It is a well understood truth that storytelling is an effective way of explaining how the world works. It does so by distilling large concepts into a manageable and palatable framework of understanding. These concepts transcend race, class, gender, time and age.

The saga we all love was created for a generation growing up, as George Lucas said, “without fairy tales” and the lessons they teach.1 This paper will thoroughly examine a modern fairy tale, finding the similarities it has with the Star Wars saga and the lessons it has to teach the world.

Karen Lynn’s fictionalized autobiography, “The Broken Hoof,” is the enchanting quest for a young girl to find the mental, physical, and spiritual power within herself. With that knowledge, she finds she can take on the universe and restore peace and harmony to herself, her world and the people around her.

Our tale begins with Kitten, our story’s heroine, being struck down with a bad reaction from a shot and put in a deep sleep. This is common in earlier fairy tales, that the hero or heroine must be taken out of the ordinary universe to transcend an earthly reality. As Joseph Campbell, noted myth expert, declares: “We cannot experience our new life, in the middle of our old one. We must be called out upon our quest.”2 The sleep ends with Kitten awakening to find she has a twisted left side, cerebral palsy serving here as a version of the mark of the quest. Kitten’s quest here is to live a life like everybody else and to be treated as everybody else, without the scorn of peers whose eyes cannot see the inner glow beneath the twisted body and facade of a broken outer shell.

Kitten is therefore a parallel to young Anakin Skywalker when he is near-fatally maimed in his dual with Obi-Wan Kenobi. He awakens to find himself encased in armor, but where he required the armor to survive, Kitten must shed hers to thrive in a world of non-supportive, self-absorbed people with no light. Her next step is finding her mentor. Just as young Anakin must race for his freedom and Luke Skywalker must travel in search of Obi Wan, so Kitten must go to her carnival to find Pegasus, the broken carousal horse who became much more. “Suddenly without realizing what she was doing, she found herself strutting towards the crimson booth of the carousel ride.”3

Because of her deep willingness to be open to herself and her own spiritual energy, Kitten is the only person who can hear Pegasus speak. “This was a very thrilling moment for Kitten. Within a few minutes he began to talk to her. My name is Pegusas, what’s yours? He whinnied. He began to utter words.”4 He serves as this tale’s version of the midiclorians. As Qui-Gon explains, “They constantly speak to us, telling us the will of the Force.”5

Kitten’s openness, her willingness to listen, links her with her new steed. When he is assaulted, her heart bleeds, and she is the only one to bother to rescue him when the carnival closes and these blessed horses are left to rot. “Oh, how dreadful the silence sounded. Something has to be done to save Pegasus and the other horses.” He was washed in shadows from the darkest room, buried in a cold hallway. It looked like the horses were tossed into one huge pile.”6

Kitten’s dedication to her development and the healing of those around her enables Pegasus to demonstrate his true identity. He drops his painted on essence and becomes his true spiritual self, as a reward for her faithfulness and selfless love. Just as Yoda, the greatest of all Jedi Masters, appears at first as a childlike gnome, so Pegasus can begin his teaching work unencumbered by the plastic coating hiding his true powers. For he is an angelic figure here, who shakes the world with his glory. “She looked, and looked, hoping Pegasus would be there, but he was not. Behind her she heard a sound building. It was Pegasus. The rainbow stallion trotted up to her.”7 “Just then Pegasus awoke, he bent his neck, a neigh came forth. You are real, Pegasus, you are a real horse.”8

He goes to work on Kitten’s courage, developing within her a sense of her role as a messenger, showing her that a physical limitation doesn’t have to mean loss of control over one’s own destiny. Just as the Jedi use transcendence of matter and so called physical realities to teach spiritual awareness and connection with energy, so Pegasus creates physical strength in Kitten through running, as well as an inner peace to help Kitten face the world unafraid. The faith shown to her gives her a desire to make the rest of the world more in harmony. She too begins to stretch out her viewpoint to help others. “It’s hard for me to believe it, but you have been transformed.”9

Kitten slowly begins to explore her world. These new undertakings don’t become the same kind of negative attachment for her that Padmé was for Anakin because they are not the only source of stability in her world. Kitten’s awareness of her self is improving. She is now wise and patient, to paraphrase a disabled writers play. “She has value as a child of God.”10 During the first Death Star battle, Luke is able to switch off his targeting computer because he has found faith in The Force. Kitten must undergo her own trial by fire in the form of discouraging white coated experts. Like Admiral Motti, who berates Vader for his reliance on the Force, these experts regard faith in anything they cannot touch and quantify and see as less than pointless.

Many medical experts are limited to what is earthly visible. Kitten’s awareness of her special gift is a spur to overcome fear and self doubt in the classroom, with her self, and with the larger world – particularly those who see her disability as a mark of disgrace rather than the keystone to a broader more profound vision. It is obvious to Kitten that her greatest enemies come from those who cannot see past the body to her inner glory. As Luke was unable to free his X-wing from the swamp on Dagobah, those who are trapped in this “crude matter” often hinder the great. Pegasus has been sent to remind Kitten that the spiritually awake need not be enslaved by physical trauma. “Particularly though, she felt honored, honored to have touched Pegasus, to have become his friend. He was safe and secure from the walls he left behind.” Kitten ran and played the any other girl.11 Her physical strength only exists as an outer reminder of the person she is being led to become.

Kitten is Anakin given proper encouragement, without his need to shape the world for his own benefit. Kitten is also very similar to Padmé, in that she has become wise through her own crucible, able to see the long term benefit of her own achievement. The new world she is being guided to create exists from her own heart outward. She no longer need fear her own body, but can harness it to give to those around her. She had redeemed the physical universe, just as Anakin at the very last possible moment came back into the light. Trapped within all that machinery and black will was the last remnant of his better self. His love for his son was the one thing that the dark side couldn’t take from him.

The medical establishment in the real world and the Star Wars universe is overly mechanized. They see a client as someone to be altered, not listened to, just as Vader’s medical droids put him back together without consideration for his pain. The rehab process, also very painful, is perhaps best understood to be a challenging of physical and spiritual energy, just like the force. Kitten has been able to motivate herself to see the eternal truth that relationships matter more than earthly pain and corporeal reality is as nothing compared to spiritual growth and union with the universe. This power within herself is the same essence which led our great Jedi, the Chosen One, to come back at the last possible moment, and in saving his son, save himself and the galaxy.

Sean Dineen is an Adjunct History professor at Kean University in Union, New Jersey, and a DLITT student

at Drew University in Madison, New Jersey.

Ms. Karen Lynn is one of the last of the pioneers in the movement for inclusion. She has been a mentor

and adaptive dance instructor for more than thirty years. In 2005, she published her fictionalized

autobiography, “The Broken Hoof”. She also fought and won the first civil rights case in California,

under the Rehab Act of 1973.

Works Cited

1 A New Hope commentary.

2 Campbell, Joseph. The Power of Myth, Doubleday, NY, 1960, p 212

3 Lynn, Karen. The Broken Hoof. PublishAmerica. 2006. p 15

4 Lynn, p 19

5 Brooks, Terry. The Phantom Menace Doubleday, p 57

6 Lynn, p 27

7 Lynn, p 31

8 Lynn, p 35

9 Lynn, p 35

10 Dineen, Sean. Retreat from Destruction, VSA Arts, NJ, 2005, p 15

11 Lynn, p. 53

Progress While Moving Forward

The cold of winter has left for the season, as well as the hearts and arrows of Valentine’s Day. They have been left behind by the many moments and minutes and weeks gone by. If you haven’t seen any entries from me going up lately on this blog for the past two months, it has been because I have been literally and physically jumping hurtles to cope and deal with people who are “EXPerts” in their own fields, who think they know it all- about EVERything!

Some people have suggested that I rewrite all of my articles with a preface. While others, tell me to get Goggles help, and still other technicians offer little or no suggestions at all. What then is a poor, sincere girl like me suppose to do?

All and all, I have continued on the straight and narrow. In the last couple of months, I have not only been making arrangements to fly back to the east coast, but I have begun the process of trying to expand my visibility. I have secured a speaking engagement for the historical society at Kean University. This is just another goal that I have been working towards to empower myself and others. Because of my Dear and devoted friend, professor Sean Dineen, this speaking event has been made possible.

We will be making a video of my presentation which I hope to share and make available to all my readers and compatriots. I am really looking forward to this trip-in meeting new people, making new contact, and expanding my own personal circle of friends. I await anxiously to spread my story and book to those who have no idea of who Karen Lynn is.

I do this because I find a deep reward in giving of myself and of sharing my life with others. I have experienced so much throughout my entire life span; that I feel that this is the least I can do. I feel that this is the only way to give back to the world and community, and to stay personally connected with each and everyone of you! It also gratifies me in surmountable ways, of which, has profound effect on my life, and gives me an energy that revitalizes my spirit. All of you have either watched me personally, or experienced for yourself, what daily struggles and challenges are like. Weather living with a disability or not, we all have moments in our daily affairs which we have to cope and deal with. But if we have a friend to turn to… it makes life a whoLE lot easier to deal with these difficulties effectively.

I share with all of you, so that we all are not alone, and so we all have each other to turn to!

Different Stages in a Learning Disabled Writer’s Life

By Karen Lynn

March 2008

Back in the spring of 1970, I reflect upon the days of my young life. I remember being full of energy, being enthusiastic, and working as a sales girl at Ohrbach’s Department store. Every day I would come to work with a smile on my face and a vibrancy to help all. It gave me a meaning and purpose to get up every day, primp and fuss, look professional, and go out into the big world, and be productive in a powerful way. It also helped me not focus on myself or my disability; as I wanted to fit in, and bring as little attention to my disability as possible. Going to work everyday essentially gave me more vitality and desire to do more and accomplish more for myself.

I remember opening these heavy double glass doors to the department store, and being greeted by security managers who would playfully banter with me. “Hey Kitten, how ya do’in, today? Did you bring the sunshine in with you?” They would say. Some how, my smile brought a warmth to other people’s hearts. But this day was different. This day brought a delight all of its own. This day, I met a very handsome guy. He had black, thick, wavy hair, brown glowing eyes, and a smile that was warm, inviting, and drew me to want to know him more. He was about 5’ 9” tall and was a perfect height for my 5 foot one inch stature. He was studying to become a doctor, and this was just a part time job for him. The mere fact that he was interested in me, made me feel accepted in ways I never did before. It transformed my feelings about myself.

In the beginning we exchanged glances, then words, and eventually he became my boyfriend. He worked in the men’s department, while I worked as a sales girl for all the departments, selling merchandise in these cubicles. These partitions were on the main floor, right near the elevators and escalators. Thus, me being me, I would wave or make cheerful greetings to all those people I began to know and become friend with, young and old. “Hey how ya doing…” I would say. “You got a load on your shoulders don’t ya?” Somehow I drew people’s friendliness out. Even Paul’s! He would stop over at my cubbi any time he was passing by. When he would come off the elevator or escalator, he would ask how I was, or, if I needed any more merchandise. Slowly, there was a silent growing, connection between us. A bond kept building like a crescendo. He would start a conversation out of the blue. Then one day, as I stood folding some clothes, with my stronger un-paralyzed, hand, he walked up to my cubbie, and asked me out. I was so excited, that I was beaming from ear to ear! Paul accepted me for who I was, looking beyond my physical disability.

After all the physical therapy and dance lesson’s I went through as a child and a young person with Cerebral Palsy, (CP) my physical impairment of left side hemiplegia was not that noticeable. All I had was a limp. A foot that was ¾ inches shorted than the other. It was not as distinct as it once was nine years prior to this date and time. I was blessed because my orthopedists told me…“to hang up my full length leg brace in the closet”. So to the lame person’s eyes, it was not obvious, and did not draw attention to me as it once did, because I could wear dress shoes like other women my age and older.

However, there was one part of me that no dance lesson could ever fix. That part of me was my learning disability. Even though I had been passed from class to class, and graduated with so called honors, I really never retained any thing I learned. Despite the fact that my learning disability was not seen, it made it impossible for me to do the things that a “normal” person would take for granted.

So now, my boyfriend was going to Spain to continue his studies. Once he got there, he wrote, but I in return could not write back. I could not find the words to express myself, let alone, put them on paper. This was devastating to me. After all these years of special education classes, and being passed from one grade to another, I still could not construct a simple sentence.

All my younger years flash before my very eyes! It was like a door that had been locked, which slowly opened with all its ghost and goblins before me. It was happening all over again! I struggled, and struggled, and struggled to write to him. I tried putting words together only to erase and ripped the paper beneath me so hard, that it brought back the agonizing memories of me sitting at my desk in third grade, ready to pull my hair out because I could neither do the work in front of me, or complete it. Thus, I started to string words together which hand no meaning or rhyme to anybody. It seemed as though I was putting words and letters together that made absolutely no sense at all to what it was I was feeling or trying to say.

This was the result of an educational system focused on meaningless memorization and structural concepts at the extent of real useful material and learning. My teacher’s never understood that I needed good communication skills and the knowledge of how the world worked to gain the independent life I so much wanted. I sat in a special education class for over four years with work to do by myself, a screen to block out all distractions, and a teacher who came to see how I was forging forward every four hours. It was busy work, not the one-on-one support or skills I needed to build my knowledge, self-esteem, or self confidence. Nor, did it give me the tools to use later on in my adult life to make my needs and desires known, or to interact with the larger world.

Too often learning disabled young people are written off like I was. I was brought up in the 1950’es. If it wasn’t for my dear mother, or her deep concern about my learning discrepancies, my elementary school would have never gotten the first special education teacher in the state of California. My teachers did what they could, but they had definite gaps in teaching, as I had in learning. There focus was on maintaining calm at any cost! Too, often, students with genuine learning problems were lumped together with students with emotional problems, and, behavior difficulties.

Thus, the teachers in these environments have to waste a lot of time pacifying those students while ignoring genuine learning difficulties. There isn’t enough time in the day to teach what needs to be taught. It was an endless cycle for both. We both were frustrated and we both did not have the methods or techniques to reach each others core. Also, these experts did not realize, or think things through for my case and situation. It often looked to me as though they really didn’t want to work to find out what was truly the best for me. Moreover, they never presented a clear plan of practical possibilities. They did not even think ahead and reason that I would someday have to take care of myself, and, that my mother would not live forever. Furthermore, they never even considered that I might have a good head on my shoulders despite my C.P. and a learning disability, and really needed some experts to take a long term view on me individually. I needed these experts to step out of the box, to look past rules and procedure to help me build a long lasting future for myself instead of labeling me mentally retarded on three separate occasions.

They never concurred or conceded that perhaps I had a really good chance to change the course of my life. The Orthodox View during that time was based on a false premise which held that, daily life skills couldn’t be learned in a mainstream work environment. My goal was to succeed in a society that was neither accepting nor forgiving. These “experts”, no matter how hard I tried, were not used to someone of my level of intelligence to speak up for themselves. They didn’t think that perhaps I had a mentality for success. They did not think that if I was taught using methods I could understand and grasp I would go on to a self-sufficient life, far from the workshop mentality they assigned me to labor in as a young girl of 18 years old. I had far more life experiences to spend my time on, then the routine evaluations and folding boxes with one hand that they forced me to go through.

These misunderstandings were based on the idea of a clientele who didn’t have the ability I had. There old-fashioned minded thinking and the lack of “real” discussion, communication and teem work thought they would prevent me from progressing and moving forward in my life. Instead, what they did for me was stimulate my desires to help myself even more. By saying they could not help me time and time again; they activated juices deep within my soul to keep carry on. Inadvertently, they helped to make me a highly motivated person, who would not let society dictate my role. That is where my tenacity to help myself and others came from. I would not, from that time forth, settle for less then what was meant for me to become. But this battle was long, hard, and has spanned throughout the 57 years of my life. Still, I am not finished yet.

These professionals, and these agencies that were designed specifically for the “disabled community,” caused me only to sink deeper into a system that did not recognize; and still does not respect my fullest potential. They dehumanized me, by telling me directly to my face that I should be a sales girl, and told me I had scattered thoughts because I had interest in psychology, sociology, dance movement therapy, and therapeutic recreation therapy. These experts made fun of me in a very patronizing and subtle way. With a shrewd, delicate, and precise way, they were very capable in pulling the wool over my eyes; by labeling me mentally retarded. They indeed prevented me from going on to attain my Bachelors Degree, and Masters Degree; and they caused me to have to search out winning another Civil Rights Case, for my education; which did not succeed.

My mother was a single parent, as my father had died twenty years earlier, and could not afford to pay for tooters, or special educators for me. Nor did I expect her to. The system backfired in my face. They cause me undo strife, conflict, and discord; along with having caused all my legal papers to be sealed and forgotten forever. But this did not stop me! This made me fight even harder and more passionately than ever before. It helped me to defend myself and to return blows in a positive and constructive way. It made my desire even stronger to make my life happen, because there was “no one” who would aid or help me achieve my life’s dreams and goals. I was left all alone to conquer life’s challenges in this world. .

This counselor and all their compatriots did not acknowledge my views or value me and my wishes. They saw me rather as a problem to be handled, rather then to be a person to be developed and validated. They could not, nor were they willing to give me a chance to go out into the big world and live life like every other human being and prove myself.

The best example of this attitude came when I was struggling in second grade. I came home from school one evening with homework that I could not do by myself. So I asked my mother for help. She was so infuriated at the fact that I could not do this homework,, that she took the closest thing that could write, which was her red lipstick, and wrote on the homework itself…”GIVE KAREN HOMEWORK, THAT KAREN CAN DO BY HERSELF!” This humiliated me, and after all these years I still remember that incident, vividly.

So, as I sat there, trying to write my letter, I could not help but think of all the times before me. I really did not want my mother to have to write this letter- as I wanted it to be my letter. I also wanted to prove to myself that I could write a simple letter all on my own, without the help or coaching from my mother. I wanted to express my own feelings, in my own way, in the privacy of my own room.

The tears began to well up, and suddenly I felt licked, crushed, and overwhelmed. I could not even put together a simple letter on my own. I felt defeated. I was so desperate, that I once again turned to the only other person I knew who could help me. That was my mother. And once again my mother took it upon herself to lovingly help me write a letter that would express what I wanted to say to my boyfriend at the time.

That moment changed my life forever. It left a deep, searing, impression in my heart which left a thirst and a yearning to move mountains before me. It also left an intense feeling to be respected as a writer. This was the beginning of a life-long quest to break out of a role that was comfortable for the “experts,” but not for me!

As far as my boyfriend Paul goes, we would only have that summer together. He went his way, and I mine. But that experience was the catalyst that drove me to keep bettering myself.

On this journey, called “My Life,” I was fortunate to find those people, who I dearly call “My Angels,” who could see beyond the person I was. For the next twenty some odd years, I never stopped reaching for my goals. The memory of that experience has driven me to everything I have accomplished throughout my quest. I become a PBX operator, a recreation director, a fitness instructor for the disabled for well over 35 years; I won the first Civil Rights Case, in the state of California, under section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, in 1979. I won second place in the Kaleidoscope Literary Pose Fiction Art contest of 1983; I attained my Associate of Arts Degree in 1985, I sat on the Executive Board of Protection and Advocacy Inc., in 2002, becoming an official advocate for the disabled.

But the most recent of all my latest achievements was publishing my fictionalized autobiography “The Broken Hoof.” This book took me full circle. After twenty years of compiling it, the words I wrote sang sweetly in my heart. I realized that in well over forty years of steadily, struggling on this quest of mine- that my pain was not in vain. I realized I had something to give. I realized I could help others by what I went through. I realized I could bring encouragement, strength, and hope to other people’s lives, in a way that perhaps no one else could.

This has been a journey of all journeys. A quest of all quests! This mission, has led me to developing my own website, Whispers of Hope, located at: https://www.whispersofhope.org,. Along with seeing, that each of these experiences reinforced my ultimate desire to become a motivational speaker. Nothing will ever stop me from pursuing what I desire. And no one will ever stand in the way of my usefulness, or change my honest, genuine, caring nature. Dr. Martian Luther King reminded us, we all have our journey to the mountain top to make.

I would not change one bit of my life’s course. Each experience has made me a stronger, more beautiful, humble, human being. It has helped me to look beyond all circumstance, learn from them, grow, and take what is good from each and every situation. I also learned not to take things as personally as I once did. Now I know how to let things go, laugh a whole lot more, and make light of situations that I once took way too seriously. I know now how to make a win-win situation out of something that is a so-called negative.

Every person who has come into my life and entered my circle, has been a direct descendent of the person I have chosen to become today. I believe in destiny. And I believe that not only were these experiences meant to be, but that these devoted people, who came into my life at the very moment I need them the most, helped me to reach for another attainable star. I believe that there are no mistakes in this world. Everything has a reason and a purpose for happening. I am not only grateful for them, but they taught me to be me… These people gently and sweetly guided me along my voyage with a kind encouragement and knowledge that no “expert” ever had in their hearts to give me.