Peering Eyes Watching

When I sit quietly, and think over my life, as a rebel, advocate, and activist with a cause, I remember certain residue of the most frustrating aspect of dealing with my own disability. These remains have been the left over hurt and pain that were caused by the “attention of self styled experts” and people who wanted and had to have control at all cost.

Having been brought up to believe in the truth and goodness in man kind, I was won over, persuaded, and convinced by these so called experts, in the disabled community. These experts exercised restrained management to try and run other peoples lives, and have complete control and say so over our destination, despite what I truly believed was right for me, in my heart.

These experts tried on numerous occasions to impose their authority, their supremacy, and their power in many areas of my life. I personally had to struggle and fight back with everything I had, to ward off their arrogance in obtaining my education as well as in employment. Sometimes, I simply was not taken seriously or sincerely by both experts and those I worked with. My word was not regarded or deemed worthy.

For example, I was falsely labeled mentally retarded on three separate occasions. This was designed to force me to except what one particular expert wanted me to limit my life to. He believed himself to know “all” about what he felt I shouldn’t be allowed to do with “my” life. His opinions were designed around a very old fashioned, out-moded, and passé, concept of what we, with hidden learning disabilities, were supposed to theoretically do. We were sentenced to live life in a workshop setting. We were beaten and battered down to believe that, that was all we were able to handle and receive out of life.

What was even more frustrating was that this gentleman could not work himself without having an interpreter by his side. Who was he to tell me what my dreams and goals aught to be, or how I should direct my live. And, how dear he tell me where my interest lie!

So, the very person who should have been the most supportive, helpful, and kind to me, turned out to be the greatest obstacle of all. One situation at a time he impeded, held me back, and obstructed my future academic progress. It was not

only very irritating, infuriating, and exasperating to have to waste time being evaluated and judged severely, but it limited my future work.

This arrogant, haughty, disturbing attitude was shared by others too! Some of then where people I worked with. You would think it would be different. But this was not the case- as I found out this attitude was everywhere! They assumed that simply because they did not have a visible disability they had every right to make fun of me, belittle me, and minimize my contribution to myself, my life, others, and the world.

Some people refused to allow me to work as I chose and saw fit. They did not wish me to be an equal and productive person in society. These professionals found every way possible to discredit my abilities, my talents, and my aptitude of skills. I had to personally find clever and survival oriented techniques to persuade not only the experts, but those clients I worked with to make an effort to follow instructions.

These struggles resulted from the same attitude which doesn’t grasp our full potential and abilities. I think the greatest thing we can do as a community is to be committed to one another, help in any way we can, and have an active directed life-style. We must retain the right to express our own vision to the world in our own creative, original, genuine way. It is also very vital that we as disabled people are supportive of our own community, and all their dreams, wants, and desires.

Because of my situation, I have been thoroughly committed to giving back all of what I never received from these “helpful” counselors. In every jagged, angle of my journey, I have sought to be a voice when there was no voice for the unheard among us. All of us, in our own special way, ought to find it within the depths of our beings, to give unconditionally, unreservedly, and completely to our total cause. It will harm and hamper many if given with half-measures or haphazardly.

It is truly annoying to think of how much time we all must spend getting around a system that does not work. It wouldn’t bother me so much if I didn’t see stubbornness so many show. The issue is no longer what is best for our own goals, but rather, how to impose the expert’s viewpoint and will upon us. We have the right as children of God, and citizens of a free country, to run our own lives. That must include the right to make mistakes, and learn from them. Our “friendly” experts think they are giving us a better life, but it is too often a comfortable slavery. They do not see with our eyes, and feel with our hearts, nor do they talk the same language as we. Like Sara in “children of a lesser God,” we must retain our will. That may be disconcerting to the normal community, but it is preferable to a life-time spent waiting to be told what to do, or fighting a system that just does not work.

To Have and to Hold

I can’t believe that I have been with the same man, now, for twenty years. Society feeds its disabled son’s and daughter’s the lie that a romantic relationship is impossible. This convenient lie is designed to endorse a comfortableness that we are to remain docile robots for ever more. However, this is not the case. This take’s away our own power, makes us less independent or interdependent on our significant other, and it puts our relationship out of balance.

A marriage, like a job, a hobby, or a spiritual belief, is an individual choice. Many do not feel we are capable of making those choices at all. We are rather to react to the choices made for us, by our enlightened overseer’s. I spent many years trying to find a person I wished to be with. Some men see disabled women as not fully realized, an object off research, rather than a partner. they may seek someone to mold, rather than love. With good intension’s, they may even try to manipulate. It is very important to establish individual autonomy. Your husband or wife is not a caregiver. They want to care for you because they love you, but, they should not try to have an agenda for your daily life. You decide what you wear, what you eat, and the one-hundred other details of living your life serenely and happily. With laughter, hope, and harmony.

My dear, sweet Mama Katie, always taught me that when walking down the street with your man, you should feel proud to be with him. She taught me to show him, and share him with the world. Those were beloved lessons- Lessons I took to my heart.

I learned these lesson a long time ago, way back in my twenties and thirties. I learned not to rush anything in my life, to look for the good, and to be positive in everything I say, do and think- I also learned to listen very carefully to those unspoken words that were not said. I learned to trust my instincts, my intuitive self and inner judgement. I further learned not to settle for the first guy that came my way, to sweet talk me off my feet.

In looking back on these last twenty-one years of my life, I wonder where all these years went as I still feel young, vibrant, and spry. I still have a vigor, vim and vitality for life, and a whole lot more to give. I see with a reflective eye, and a wise wisdom of experiences, like a fine wine sitting in a decanter waiting to be uncorked.

That’s what twenty-one years with the same man, who said he wanted to dance every dance with me. We have lived together, sometimes with rough seas, and periods of calm. All and all it has been worth while and exciting to have a man of truth, honor, and dignity by my side.

My Red Desoto

Just a few weeks ago, I began cycling again, after having toe surgery. It felt so good getting decked out in my biking outfit, and riding down the tree covered streets once again, My husband, Chris, helped me attach my helmet strap, my glove strap, and my feet onto my shoe pedals. And I was good to go-

Who says people with Cerebral Palsy can’t do the same kind of activities as “normal” people do!

I remember the first time I ever got onto a bike. That was back when I was only 8 years old. It was something I only did one time, yet I knew that that was something I’d like to do again if given the chance.

I knew some how, some way, in the depths of my heart, I could do it. All I needed was a little help, from a kind hearted someone. I also knew that all I needed was help with a few technicality’s (like bucking my foot to keep it in place, so it would not move, and protection on my head and hands.) Then, I could ride my bike like any one else- I would then be able to go any where I wanted and ride as fast as the wind would take me. This joyful activity would give me more freedom. It would be yet another way to worked my body out. And, it would bring me much pleasure, contentment, and loads of fun- I knew that if I could get this worked out, then I could do it. There was no question or doubt in my mind. I knew some how, some way, this opportunity would arise again if I stayed positive and focused.

I kept these thought in my mind, till one day, when my husband came home with a surprise gift for me. Chris told me to come out side with him for a minute. So I did. I remember looking up, and there down the driveway was sitting a blue bicycle next to our car. That was about 13 years ago. While standing there and gasping with utter amazement, my heart skipped a beat. I was truly surprised. I was elated, and ecstatically happy. My dream had come true! This gift, was a cherished hope, and a thought of a real possibility, that I too would accomplish one day. Somehow, I kept these thoughts alive in my being until that one, special day, it all come true! It was a quiet prayer and hope that was answered; as I only made mentioned of it once. My husband made this dream come true for me. How special is that! He also made me feel very loved as he made me a very happy girl! However, it is not the bike you see in the pictures here.

The first bike was blue, and sat much higher. When I would ride down hills, it made me feel very insecure, so, one Saturday afternoon, Chris, and I went looking for new ones. We looked in a few bicycle store’s, and then, at the last shop, which was near our house, I found this perfect, beautiful, red Desoto . It was all mine and I was going to take it home with me-

Now, after all these years, I am still riding it and keeping it very shiny with TLC. Chris has made some pedal modifications, too! These modifications help me to petal faster, as well as keeps my foot on. I no longer have to call my hubby every few minutes to fix my foot, and I have more power to push and pull. This helps tremendously when I am on a hill, stop light, or just want to go faster. My foot does not slip out of the strap, either any more- I can tell you honestly, that I feel very secure with my bike, and, I love and adore riding it.

Even though I need some help in order to go biking, I welcome every opportunity I get. It is not only a treat, but something I enjoyed tremendously. It keeps me fit, trim and in shape, and more than that, it free’s my spirit. It makes me feel like a a kid again! I can do what everybody else does. And, It make me feel vibrant and alive! It energizes me,

What’s more, I can visually picture me now, riding along side all the other children in my neighborhood that I would watch joyfully riding down the streets with this carefree, exuberance. Now instead of feeling left out, it has helped made me feel complete… I get lots of smiles and thumbs-up from other cyclist, too!

Now, all I have to do is ask my hubby if he wants to go for a cycle, and off we go! We take my Healer/ Terrier mix breed dog, Patches, for her run as well. It couldn’t be more fun. She runs about a mile with daddy and then rides the rest of the way with me, mommy:>) Lately, we have been doing a lot more riding since gasoline prices have risen. We cycle well over 3 miles one way to our open air market to get our fresh fruits and veggies on Saturday mornings. While other times, we have taken our bikes to the strand, in Redondo Beach, California, and rode all the way to Marina Del Ray, and back. Still other times, we’ve packed our bikes up in the truck, drove to a particular point, unload our two and three wheelers from our vehicle, and off we ride- Last time, we petaled from Venice Beach, CA. all the way to the Santa Monica pair.

During the summer months, Chris and I pack up our brown bag of goodies, and have an ocean front view of the water; while eating our lunch or dinner to the sweet crashing sounds of the waves. We have enjoyed many a meal with the gentle,sea breeze blowing its currents ever so sweetly upon our face.

You couldn’t ask for anything better than that, can you!

Advocacy Development

Since I began to deal with the obstacles inherent in having a disability, I have taken many paths in advocating for myself and those I care about. One of the most rewarding directions I’ve taken was when I served as a fitness instructor for people with and without disabilities. People didn’t realize how much their bodies were capable of accomplishing. So, in each and every class I taught, I empowered my students with my “I can do” attitude. I tried to make each class very enjoyable and carefree. In retaliation, my students in the adaptive aerobics class would take the time to playfully batter with me as I counted out the number of repetitive repetitions to the exercise movement we were doing to the rhythm of the music. They found much amusement and light-heartedness in trying to pull one over on me.

In my private work, I have been a part of helping many clients grow and develop not only their physical abilities with their specific limitations, but , I have witnessed their self-confidence and awareness soar. Despite my so called barriers, I have found a way to rise above and conquer and share. I have found ways not only to encourage and inspire, but to feel very grateful myself.

Thanks to my dance teacher, Al Gilbert, and my dear mama, I have been able to rise above many stumbling blocks and give of myself in ways no one else has. It has been a sincere gift to be able to use what I learned throughout the many years of my life, in dance, aerobics, and physical therapy, and give to others unconditionally. These life giving lessons have shown me that having this disability of Cerebral Palsy has not only helped me to develop myself, as a person, teacher, mentor, advocate, published author, but help others in ways no one else might be able to or admit to.

My disability, and its so called inherent disadvantage or weakness, however you want to call it has really turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

The Hidden Cost Of Our Cerebral Palsy

We are all aware of the struggles which many people with disabilities undergo. What we may not be aware of, is the unpleasant fact that those of us without cognitive disabilities suffer a hidden cost. This cost is the reality of having to deal with a support system designed to maintain each of us at a subsistence level. Experts simply cannot understand that we are capable of great achievements, given real support. Too often, one set of options is offered. These represent old outmoded ideas.

The system has to be maintained. This means maximum control for “helpful” overseers. I am tired of it! FED-UP, OUTRAGED, and APPALLED! There is something very, very wrong about the system which waist time and money trying to do the impossible with those going nowhere, while, ignoring the genuine potential of so many of us. We are treated worse than a dirty dish rags! Hit bellow the belt, and patronized beyond words. It is SO SUBTLE and SO DISCRETE that only those that it is being done to see it.

The words “realistic” and “independence” are used to whip our thought process back into line. It is ridiculous that I have spent a life-time having to prove “my rights” to exist! It is also stupid and ridiculous that a student with a master’s degree can’t get Ph.D funding while people who write about phone sex are considered “cutting edge.” What is WRONG with this picture?

It would be far more comfortable to sell out, and spend our lives in front of the squawk box, but I am not going to do that! I am going to soar, speak out, ride the wave, and conquer all. I am not going to let these people in positions control my every move, though, and goal. I am not going to stand back ideally, and let them step and stomp over my breath.

Are you?

We will own our own right to control our own destiny! We are going to be activists and advocates for ourselves, and show the world that our thoughts, feelings and goals count. We are going to be recognized for what is truly RIGHT and JUST, and,we will be regarded and respected even thought we may have a physical disability. We are going to change the world and how the world see us- We are going to speak out- Yell to the highest mountain top to be heard, and not let these people, “in power” which are our blockade stand in out way- Some how, some way, we will obtain our own destiny! Some how, some way, we will be heard and seen and the road will be made straight for us. We will be accepted and treated the way all men and woman deserve to be treated.

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 of people who valued one another and truly cared. During that time, people genuinely treasured friendships and supported each other’s endeavors. This was in an age without technology. Thus, people reached out more to one another than they do today. 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 lent a helping hand when needed. People of this era also assisted by helping unconditionally those who were less fortunate.

Al Gilbert was affectionately known as Uncle Al, Star–Maker, Dance Educator, and the teachers’ teacher. His 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.

The Music Works Unlimited website says it best: “At a time when nothing like it existed, …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 dance 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 more accessible without even realizing it.

I first met Al on a beautiful Southern California spring day in 1954. I was three. My mother was driving down Pico Boulevard in Los Angeles, with me by her side, in our 1952 two-tone blue hardtop Chevy. She looked up and spotted a sign. It read, “Al Gilberts Theatrical Dance Studio.”

Being the progressive thinker and person she was, she turned the corner, parked the car, took me by my little hand, and walked through his front doors to talk with him. Of course, she had called ahead, and after being turned down by every other dance teacher in town, she knew Al was eager to work with me, a tiny girl with a leg brace. That was well over 70 years ago. It was a magical moment as he greeted the two of us both. Within seconds of entering his door, my mother and I both knew. It was my privilege to be his friend, his student, and to 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 about Allesandro Zicari, and how Al gave of himself and his time unconditionally, not only to future stars like Annette Funicello, but to the disabled world. So I will. He helped everyone who came to him, even my disabled girlfriends from school. And my mother thought so much of him, she recommended Al to their parents.

Al Gilbert, dance teacher, poet, author, and humanitarian, proposed coming to my elementary school for handicapped kids and giving of himself and his talents unreservedly. He was enthusiastic about teaching other disabled children and giving his time to our community. However, even though the master in taps, he did not have a college teaching degree, so 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 every life he touched. Including mine!

I remember that day we met. I was a 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 left ankle that I probably would never have developed if it weren’t for him.

No therapist ever gave to me like he gave himself. Because of his teachings and his techniques, my once twisted torso straightened out, along with my left leg. Not only did my dragging foot and floppy out–to–the–side gate correct itself, but at age eleven, I was able to hang my full length brace in my closet, never to wear it again, thanks to his unwavering dedication and devotion, week after week, year after year, recital after recital, teaching me lessons with and without my brace, dramatically changing me and my physical being.

Through all those years, he gently but firmly reminded me to bend my knees while doing shuffles, shuffle hops, or shuffle ball changes. I recall him telling me to turn my knee out for better positioning, and I 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 weak legs, who got strong through dance—only to become a ballerina. One time he went away, and when he returned, he brought me cymbals to improve my coordination and strengthen my left hand. In his unwavering, unique, and loving approach toward me, he tried every way possible to motivate and encourage.

After my other therapies and lessons were done for the day, every chance I had, I practiced his teachings. Every chance while at home, I practiced after all my other therapy lessons were done. So, with discipline, willingness, and an open mind, I put my record player on, to hear Al’s soothing voice instructing me as he always did.

I also remember him making my lessons fun, calling my mother up to have her bring me into his studio for extra lessons with no extra charge. He used to say to my mama… “…Karen’s smile was payment in full…that was all I needed.”

He even signed me up for piano lessons, at his expense, and he made these fun too. With his playful side, he checked up on me and the piano teacher every chance he got. Never once did he let on that the piano lessons were to strengthen my left hand.

I remember the closeness we had, and how our friendship developed over the decades. I trusted Al. I respected him and his word, and I talked to him as if he were my daddy after I lost my own to cancer. Al became a temperate figure I looked up to for strength and endurance. Al became the rock and pillar in my mind’s eye to endure all. He gave me a quiet love, acceptance, and devotion not only for 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 mankind 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, and as with all his students before and after me, Al endowed me 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…

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A Voice of Hope - Speaking to and for People with Disabilities