Whispers of Hope – Karen Lynn-Chlup

    Follow Us

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

Home › BlogPage 66

The Quest to Help All

I have been doing a lot of research in the last couple of weeks on Learning Disabilities, and exercise programs for the disabled.  To my regret all I have found were mostly regular Yoga programs. Sadly, I have found nothing substantial in my search. I must tell you, that I am truly applauded after all these years.  The fact that there is little to no information, or programs out there geared especially for us with physical challenges show’s how little we have expanded our way of thinking. There is barely any information, let alone programs for individuals with physical limitation in some way or another.  Yes I found a few programs, on Yoga, but not enough to make a true difference in our society.

I ask you- when are we all going to work together for this vital cause?  Am I the only person out here that does such a thing? Where did everybody else go?  I ask you?  What have you found out there in this big expansive place we call the world? I’d be interested in hearing your response.

Until then>))))))

FYI, I am very happy to announce that my chair aerobics video is now available for viewing on my web site.

Graduating Class Of 2007 Speech

Dear Ms. Tompson, Mr. Matz, the faculty, family, friends and, finally but not least, the graduating class of 2007. I am honored to stand before you today as a guest speaker, and, an alumnus of Widney High School. My name is Karen Lynn, and I am here today, to empower each and every one of you as you step out into a new chapter of your lives. A journey you’ll one day look back upon and think about. As you go out from these doors, a whole new world awaits you. Here, things will be quit new and different.

Some of these new experiences might be frightening and scary, while others, challenging and joyous. But it is all a part of living life. It is how you take each life experience you have, and how you grow and develop your inner character. It is the process of becoming the person you choose to become. So, don’t be frighten or nervous, and don’t let the world and others decide your course- It is your journey; that only you can decide and build upon. It is you and you alone to stare your vessel in a positive direction. It is a time of new hopes, new dreams and new inspirations. It is a time to shape, a time to build, and a time to learn and reap the fruits of your life. It is a time to stack one experience upon another like a beautiful creation.

I remember those days as if they were yesterday. I wondered what I was going to become, and how I was going to succeed in life while having Cerebral Palsy and a learning disability (dyslexia) which made learning very difficult, arduous, and grueling. It was not easy to retain information, write a clear constructed sentence, or do the simplest mathematical problems. I struggle inwardly saying little or nothing to anyone. I remember when this school was first built and when we moved from Grand Avenue and Washington Blvd. I remember these halls as if it were yesterday.

I remember the bells ringing to signal when one period ended and another one began. I remember the lunch lines, and I recall the many hours sitting in my seat, riding to and from school on an apricot colored school bus. I also remember my drivers training classes and learning to drive in driver’s Ed. I bring to mind the day I stood in front of my locker, all alone, in quiet solitude thinking… “How am I ever going to get through this next test Mr. Howard is giving in science class?” But some how I did! I also remember our basketball games, our Kodiak team, our field days, and trying out for cheerleader and our wonderful musicals Mr. Howard would bring to life. You know what else? I even remember being valedictorian of my graduating class and standing here at this same podium.

I had many challenges before me. But something way down deep inside of my being would not let me quit- I was determined. No- I was driven! And I still am to this very day. I had a tenacious desire to keep on keeping on. I had made this decision and I was never going to give up on myself no matter how tough the tough got going. So after graduating my mother and I decided it was best for me to get some guidance and help from The California Department of Rehabilitation. Maybe they could help guide me into something I loved to do. Maybe someone would be knowledgeable enough, and in tune enough, that they had the special ability to pick up on some ones needs, wants, talents and desires and direct them in a positive way to make it happen. It would have been nice to be given a chance, and to be counseled in that way, to a career of my choosing. Instead, I was evaluated.

My father had died three years earlier, and I held my head high in the same fashion as I did when he passed on. I was like a worrier, who was standing tall with her metal armor at hand and her Trojan horse by her side, while being torn apart emotionally; as I was given their decision of being labeled mentally retarded and sent to a workshop. I smiled outwardly, and did my 6 months training program, and moved on and away from this experience, but inwardly I was devastated because I knew I could learn like everyone else if only given a chance to prove myself. Even though I was scared, and tattered, I kept going. I dusted myself off, stood up tall, and held my head high with my hopes and dreams still in tack.

My mother, being the wonderful person that she was; called and set up an interview for me, with the personnel director of Ohrbach’s Department stores, on the Miracle Mile. I was hired immediately and, went to work in sales, as a sales girl. Within a short period of time I was promoted to switchboard operator. I wanted to be like any other so called “normal person”. But I was stared at, and humiliated, and looked down upon many a times. However, each and every time I was emotionally bruised and put through the test, I became stronger through each experience and each altering event.

To make my story short, at twenty-five years of age, I wanted to go back to school to attain my degree in dance therapy, Recreation and English, because I now was an assistant recreation director in a half way house for people with mental illness, and I had an enormous thirst to learn. But for a second time in a row, I was labeled mentally retarded due to another IQ test, and another counselor that just could not see beyond her confines and judgments, which does not, nor cannot depict learning disabilities. That was when she told me that if I wanted to go to college I would have to take 12 units a semester just like all the other student that took classes. I knew that that was not the truth, but a big bunch of horse manure. I left her office steaming mad. I had had enough. I was ready to take on the world. I was sick and tired of being put through the ringer, humiliated, looked down upon, disrespected, and shoved into a quiet corner where I would be a nice little girl and be a vegetable of the state for ever more. It was very easy for them to label me, because our system is specifically designed for bureaucrats that unfortunately still exist today.

I was on fire! That was when I wrote letter after letter, and made phone call after phone call with a willingness that could not be broken no matter what anyone said or tried to do. I took on the fight of my life. I was ready to challenge the system with every breath in my being. I knew at that moment that I had to make my way in this world in order to be a productive person in society. I knew that my Mama was not going to be here forever to take care of me. Thus, I had no choice but to move forward and face each and every obstacle that came in my path. I knew I had to carve out a place for myself in this world, and I knew that this was the moment. So, without any hesitation, I fought with every ounce of courage in my heart and spirit. That was the moment when I took California Department of Rehabilitation to, The Department of Health, Education, and welfare, where 3 years later, I receive the joyous news that I won the first Civil Rights Case in the state of California; and that my case now opened the doors for all disabled people under section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973. I was also told by the same organization…”how could a disabled person with Cerebral Palsy teach other people to dance” Well, my dear friends, I am here today, to tell you that I do that as well- I continue to teach. I adore working with others, and I give because of what was once so freely given to me. I have been teaching adaptive aerobics since 1976, and dancing since age 3 and ½.

Whenever anyone told me I could not achieve something I wanted to do, I went out and achieved it with effort, skill, reason, discipline, and 4 courage. I did what ever It took to get ahead; including driving over 350 miles a week to get special hand-eye- ear motor coordination training. I listen to my own melody and made my own music.

I not only went back to college, after winning my decree, and received my AA degree in English, which, by the way, took me 5 years, but I laboriously worked 8 hours a day or more with my wonderful mentor and tooter. I became an advocate, for the disabled, and sat on the Executive Board of Protection and Advocacy Inc. I also won second prize in the Kaleidoscope Literary Prose Fiction Art Award of 1983 while in college. I also built my own website to help others.at:www.whispersofhope.org. And last year, I became a published author of The Broken Hoof. I believe I was given this path to shield, guard, and defend others from this terrible plot of discrimination.

I sincerely wish each and every one of you graduates graduating today a full and rewarding, prosperous life. I wish you all that you wish for yourself and more. I will close for now, but remember you can do ANYTHING you put your mind towards doing. Believe in yourself when no one else will. Just think of me. If I can do it, so can you. It’s all in the palms of your hands, in your attitude, and in the power of your own beliefs and thoughts. So go out from here today and make a wonderful, full life, to look back upon. Thank You for allowing me to share this special experience with you and taking the time to share a bit of mine. Thank you.

In a Days Work

A few days ago, I went back to my old high school to be a guest speaker.  I spoke about where I came from, and where I am today.  It has been 38 years since I walked those halls.  And in the process, I was deeply touched.  Torched beyond words. Touched because of the person I’ve become, and touched because of all the strength I have had to keep moving forward.  Touched, because I can see the many accomplished I have attained to give to others so freely-

Nothing, Nothing my dear friends, is like giving unconditionally to other’s and seeing a smile of happiness, joy, and empowerment, on their faces, or the applause they give you in return.  Nothing, no money, no competition, no greed, no nothing can give you that kind of warmth, fulfillment, love, devotion, or that inner peace, happiness, and satisfaction you receives when you have given of yourself completely, and from your heart utterly.

Since I Last Wrote

Since I last wrote, my website has gone through a major overhaul, and has been completely re-built. Now that Whispers is completely re-constructed, we can move forward with ease:>) I am so happy I am back, and that my site is finally the way I like it:>)  I am thrilled beyond words, and I owe my deepest thanks to those “special individuals” who helped me to re-designed it.

I also want to take this moment to thank all of you as well. I know my site has had its twists and turns, ups and down’s; but all of you have been so very patient with me, and I want to personally thank you for your continued support, and endurance through this whole process.  I know you probably have wondered what was taking so long, or why it kept changing face’s and design plans for the last 8 years, but I’m here, writing to you today, to tell you that all is completed… and I want to personally thank you for going the distance with me.  It has been a long, drawn out process and journey, but we are now home safe.  All is well and could not be better:>)

I want you to know that you have been my life line- you are the ones I do this for:>)  you are my purpose…

Therefore, I truly want to apologize if, in the last 4 months to 2 years or more- if I have caused you ANY inconvenience at all.  I promise this won’t ever happen again…  but I could not proceed or live comfortably within my own skin, until I knew that all these changes took place, and I was happy, at ease, and at peace and harmony with not only the way whispers looked, but I also needed it to feel warm and cozy.  I can honestly say that Whispers of Hope always had something missing to me-  thus, I had to find its perfect look, its perfectly written and grammatically constructed content, and, I had to find the people who I could turn to who were creatively able to enable my desires to be arranged, constructed, and displayed.

With must pride, I am proud to announce that Whispers of Hope is completed to date, and is just the way I always dreamed of it being!  We can all move forward from here.  Now  that everything is secure, and I have taken all the necessary actions, we can all rest easy now and have a blast!  We can all post to our hearts content.  Read what ever we want to read, and just unwind by being ourselves-  We don’t have to worry anymore or put on any false fronts!  We can let our true feeling be known.

So my dear friends and new viewers, feel free to read and write what ever you feel- And, tell me exactly what you think about the all New and Improved Whispers of Hope.:) or what you’d like to see on here.  I welcome your thoughts and opinions.

BTW, In the next few weeks, I will be placing some exercise videos on here for you, as well as a personal video.  They were made especially to empower you-  So keep your eyes peeled- They will be posted shortly:>)))))))

Until then…

Convenient Labeling

Many a times I have thought about all the labels we dish out to man kind in our society. And what a stigma this leave within our being. Its a terrible one, which leaves its scars and marks in our minds and hearts.

They have labels for everything now a days.  When I was a child I was diagnosed as left side hemiplegic Cerebral Palsy, and  years later a learning disability.  I was never labeled anything else, not until the 70S 80S and 90S!  Besides being labeled, it is emotionally degrading and humiliating. I know.  I was labeled three different times –

It was very humiliating, because I knew inside myself I wasn’t a classification.  I was a human being! I am a person!

Thinking about these words make me cringe inside!  As I am sure it does to other people who have been put in the same predicament as I and were classified as something they really are not-

How can each and every one of us do something to change what is going on in our world for the children of today?  How can we stop this from continuing to happen?  How can we make a difference.

I didn’t like or ever agree, use, or consider myself any of those things that were harshly put upon me!  I fought the system and won, but so many people don’t

What do you think?

I have gone and done far more then what these counselors of mine thought of me and my ability that at all in my life.

Self Made Destiny

Self Made Destiny

By Karen Lynn

May 2007

Their were fifteen people that evening, assembled all in a circle, arm lengths apart. I walked into the room, and sat down and took my place amongst them. “Good Evening everybody.” “For those new in our class, my name is Karen Lynn. I am your adaptive aerobic teacher.” “Let start the evening exercises with our warm up.” I reached down and turned on my tape player with the prerecorded music. This was not easy for a person with left side hemiplegic, Cerebral Palsy. And the use of only one hand.

But thank God, for my dance teacher’s guidance and my mother’s insight. As the smooth jazz floated through the room, one of my students spontaneously asked me where my interest in dance came from. With my next exercise I began to tell her, “Dance became my life during the first meeting with Al Gilbert, my dance instructor. I was only 3 and a half years old when my mother decided to use tap dance lessons as a tool to build and strengthen my little twisted body.” As I kept teaching, I couldn’t help remembering that I was only 5 months old when I was stricken and knocked into a coma. The experts, wrong as usual, declared I only had a thirty percent chance of survival. Assuming I did survive, I was going to be deaf, dumb, and blind.

I looked up at my students, smiling broadly. “I fooled them all, as you can see, so will you?” And, as I took my next breath, for my next exercise, I noticed another student struggling to say something. “Ms. Karen, I don’t think I can do this exercise. The young student seriously said. “Where did you find the strength, and courage, to carry on in your life?” “I got it through my own life’s experience. If I can do it, so can you, for sure! Something inside of me kept driving me on. I have always, been propelled to carry on with my life in a manor of which most disabled people don’t. I have always been highly motivated to be the best person I could be. When people told me I “could not” or “would not” be able to accomplish going to college, learning English, with a learning disability, or becoming a dance teacher, it only motivated me to push myself even harder to become.”

My student smiled as her arm shot forward in a half circle to the beat of the music. Exercise after exercise the aerobic class moved forward. By the end of the hour I saw a tired but satisfied, group of students. I walked to my car and went home to prepare for my lecture in the morning. I was going to address Sean Dineen’s Civil History’s class. “Ms Karen, what was the hardest part of getting your education? An eager student asked in the second row? “I got tired and angry of being passed from one class to another never learning a thing from my primary and secondary instructors. I was eighteen years old and still could not compose a letter on my own. I worked in the community and didn’t get anywhere. I was tired of not being treated with dignity or respect.”

The students question’s brought back a lot to mind. The pride I felt the day I had my first recital, the burning anger at the “helpful counselor” who insisted for a second and third time that I was mentally retarded, and the joy on my mother face as she saw me get the degree that even she thought was impossible. “So I fought and won the first Civil Rights Case, in the state of California, in 1979. Like your professor, I don’t give up easily.” I laughed inwardly. So many battles, in so many place, it seemed to go on like a vengeance, but I rose above it all, like a warrior.

Professor Dineen then moved to my side, “I haven’t told you the funny part of the story my dear friends, sixteen years after not being able to write a letter, Karen here wrote something else. She was the prize winner of the Kaleidoscope Literary fiction Art Award contest of 1983. She also became a published author of “the Broken Hoof., in 2006.” A story dear to my heart-” For one person to achieve all these triumph seam very hard to believe or ignore. But it was all true.

As we walked out of the classroom, Professor Dineen remarked, “You know Karen, you laid the foundation for everyone else. “I know, Sean, I agreed. That’s why I wanted to teach, I needed to prove to myself that I didn’t have to settle for crumbs that people threw my way. But even so, I’ve had to freelance and accept my destiny in a world that neither recognizes me, nor the price I’ve had to pay. And, I was not able to attain the higher dance degree that I desired.” Then Professor Dineen gave a wiry look. “What do I always say, Karen, the average person would not last a second in our situation. You really did well, my friend.”

We walked out side of the building, into the fall air. With another breath Sean said. “They were really paying attention to you. You captured an interest in then that not even I have been able to maintain.” That made me feel really good inside. “Should I mention that when my article gets written tomorrow, I asked? I’m sure the folks at VSA will want to talk about that!” I declared.

VSA was a disability writing group where I came to read an excerpt of my work to my peers. After reading, I mentioned that I had been taped, back in 1985, while taking a class to show and mention to the world, my successes, and also to show how much I appreciated my mentor and teacher taking the time with me, all those years ago.

The VSA members had been burnt by the same fire I had, and could relate. But came out of it and survived, each in their own way, to make a mark in this world. They were bringing awareness to the world by living life on there own terms, and I was happy to see that I wasn’t alone.

If I Can You Can

By Karen Lynn

April, 07

Many, many years ago, when I was only 5 months old, I became paralyzed due to a DPT shot and a doctor who refused to listen to a wise woman, whom I called mama. Over night, I fell into a deep, deep sleep, and did not wake for 10 days. The doctors declared that I would be deaf, dumb and blind, but I fooled them all. That was 55 ½ years ago. Since then, I have continued to rewrite the scrip of every professional, person, and doctor who had the audacity and nerve to emphatically tell me that I could not reach my highest potential, or dream, and that I couldn’t become!

Well, that happened many times in my life’s unraveling journey. But I rose above it all-

Hi everyone. My name is Karen Lynn, and I have Cerebral Palsy and a learning disability called dyslexia. 18 months after being diagnosed, my mother found a dance teacher in Los Angeles. Dance lessons began and Al Gilbert not only took me under his wing, and gave me his unconditional love, but he taught me to dance. Soon, I was hopping, skipping, and jumping, like other young children my age. And at 11 years old, I was able to hang up my full length leg brace-never having to wear it again.

I am writing you this article not only to inspire you, but to tell you that you are not alone. Anything is possible if you work toward your dreams and believe in yourself. In my day, things were much different. Inclusion was not yet born, and mainstreaming was just around the bend. Because I was not learning like other children, my mother took matter into her own hands and spoke to the principal of the school. Soon thereafter, my school had the first instructor who understood my disability.

Sadly, after her departure, at age twelve, I spent the next 6 crucial years being passed from one class to another, never learning a thing. This pattern reasserts itself throughout my life, and yours. We are forever linking achievement with struggle and wasting precious energy getting around stereotypes and prejudice. That is where my basic thrust for knowledge first took shape, but I got tired of being defined by other people’s rules.

After several years of struggling with all the biases part of the work world, I decided I had to get a degree. There were no if’s, and’s, or but’s! I had no idea I would be making history. My “good friends” at the California State Department of Rehabilitation, demonstrated their usual amount of helpful support. This was the second time, in my life, where I was conveniently labeled mentally retarded because of an I.Q. test. Something within the depths o f my being was afire! The next thing I knew, I fought and won the first Civil Rights Case in 1979 under the Rehab. Act of 1973.

This took place 13 years before the American’s with Disability Act. And to be very honest with you, I am honored and so proud to have laid the foundation and foot work for what came later. As I am sure each and every one of you has done in your very own way. Five years after winning my lawsuit, I earned an Associate’s Arts Degree in Dance and English. That was in 1985, Two years prior to graduation, in 1983, I won second prize in the Kaleidoscope International Prose Fiction Art Awards, for my book in it infancy. Moreover, I became a fitness instructor, and have freelance since I was 26 years old. I have geared my entire life toward advocating and teaching the disabled community. I have given to others what was so freely given to me.

In addition, I have sat on the Executive Board of Protection and Advocacy Inc., as well as Harbor Regional’s, Client Services Committee, in the South Bay, of Southern California. I have participated in 5 different Disabilities Expos where I had my own booths and taught hour long demonstrations. I have also lectured, at universities, schools, and organizations, as well as participating and leading book reading events for VSA Arts, in New Jersey. To make these events possible, I have traveled throughout the United States to give of myself, and our common cause.

But, I must tell you, I am most proud of my recent publication of my book, The Broken Hoof. You can purchase this book at your local book store by special ordering it, or, you can purchase it on line at amazon.com., publishamerica.com, barnsandnoble.com, or bordersstores.com. I welcome you to visit my website at: www.whispersofhope.org and if you’d like to contact me, or arrange an exercise session, or public speaking engagement, please feel free to write or call. You will find all pertinent information on my website. I know that writing this article has been a joy and will help spread the message among all magazine readers in the community.

Travel and Travail

Travel and Travail

By Karen Lynn

April 07

I woke up early that Wednesday morning, scurried to get ready to hit the security gates of the LAX International Airport. My destination, to reach terminal B, at Newark Liberty, where I would spent five hours on a plane traveling towards the east coast. During the plane ride, the only thing that kept recurring in my thoughts, were reflections of my past. Air travel being what it is today, I had little else to do but think. So, I continued to think and think, and think. I kept thinking of what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. With each twist and turn, a new memory arose. I looked around me. And, as I glanced around, everyone looked so comfortable and relaxed. They seemed to be at peace with the world. And why not! They sat comfortably with I-pods stuck to there ear in a reclined comfortable position with eyes closed, or in seclusion and solitude of their own little world. While I racked my brains, trying to think of what I was going to say, and how I was going to say it for my lecture in a few, short days.

If only they knew what was going through my head. If only they knew where I came from, and what my life was once like. They would have been shocked beyond imagination. They would have been shocked to hear the awful words I heard replaying in my head, like an old victrola many, many years ago. “Ms Hershkowitz, the expert arrogantly barked. You have to take twelve units a semester… that is, if you even want to think about going to college!” I rehashed again in my head, for my opening line! Thought after thought my mind grew weary just thinking about it. Thinking exactly how my words would impact my audience.

A thousand battles, in a thousand classrooms, in doctor’s offices, in the work place, in the “helpful headquarters’” of social workers, and Rehabilitation offices, and even in the secular high priest, who took it upon themselves to observe, to organize, and to control and prescribe mandatory orders for every aspect of my life. Who were these self styled, educated experts to believe they could direct my every waking hour. Who were they to tell me what I should or should not be doing with my life? Who where these men and women who though they were God or could even play God with me? Did they think they were specially chosen to ruin my life? Well, if they did, they had another thing coming!

They did not know who they were dealing with, nor, did they know whom they were up against! All because of their cunning, conniving, callus ways of shrewdly thinking they knew exactly how to charm me over, to get me where they wanted me. They thought they know precisely how to misdirect my life, and misrepresent me. They thought they were above me, huh! And, in there quiet, roguish, mulishness manner, they thought they could subtly mislead, and cleverly, dehumanize me and speak down to me in a manor with little dignity or respect. Well, if they did, they did not know what kind of surprises their coffee soaked offices of the California Rehab. Cadres were in for.

The flight attendant came around with drinks, but I was not interested. My mind was somewhere else. So I let my mind drifted back, back, back in time, to that sanctified moment in the mid-70’ies when I stood before an army of enemies, like a warrior, to fight and fend off with words stronger than any weapon anyone could ever hold. I forced all of them to acknowledge me as an individual, with desires and needs that I wanted to achieve. Most importantly, I had to obtain my college education, as I needed to make a place for myself in this world. I, I was the “disabled one” all I heard was… “How can a person with Cerebral Palsy teach dance.” Warmth and energy flowed threw my veins as I recalled hard earned victories: Dancing across the dance floor, under the watchful eye of my loving dance teacher, Al Gilbert. Teaching my students aerobics as an eager reporter snapped my picture and wrote a featured article on me. Or, marching to get the degree that everyone declared I’d never get.

What amazes me the most, is that this “mentally retarded” person, lade the foundation for the millions. My response to a hundred versions of “you can’t do this” is, and always will be to move heaven and earth just to be treated normally, and not to be discriminated. New Jersey was getting close. I was 2 hours from that beautiful city. And all of a sudden, I felt my breath quicken. I felt fluttering in the pit of my stomach, so, I gently looked out the airplane window, towards the blue, puffy, canopy, where I told myself, “you’ll be fine, sweetheart.” “Everything will be okay.” But, what was okay with me; was not okay with the rest of the word. It had been twenty-eight years since I won my law suit, and sometimes it seems as a people, as if we had taken only the first two steps, on a thousand mile journey. That was why I was coming to New Jersey. I was coming to raise up a new generation of leaders who would be inspired, moved, and stimulated to continue the struggles, and to follow in my footsteps. This generation of young men and women, could pick up where I left off. They could gather information to armor themselves on all fronts, to make this land that we live in and love, a gentler, kinder, more understanding world fueled by the memory of what I and so many others had gone through.

We were landing now. I march of the plane proudly, with a new iron determination and devotion to continue to carry on. Waiting for me was my friend. He was another C.P. person with his own battle scares and triumphs to tell. In a moments flash, we were now heading towards the university, where he taught. He wheeled himself into the classroom when he beckoned me to the front of the room. We shared a smile that summed up what we both had helped each other to achieve. We both remembered the price which we both had paid to accomplish and attain. And that was our greatest connection. I straightened out my jacket, glanced at my notes, took a deep breath, and began. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen, my name is Karen Lynn.”

If you are interested in my services, please contact me for lecturing or fitness instruction, at: www.whispersofhope.org, or email me at: karenlynn@whispersofhope.org .

Karen Lynn

19929 Burin Avenue

Torrance, California

90503-2107

310-371-7176

Lecture to California Rehabilitation Services

Dear Ms. Russel and friends of the California Rehab. Services. My name is Karen Lynn, and it is indeed a pleasure being invited here today. During the next hour, I will not only be sharing my experience as a disabled person with you, but I will also teach you a brief exercise session.

Some of you may have already heard my story; however, for those of you who haven’t, I will take this opportunity to share that with you now. I was born many, many years ago, a perfectly healthy, normal child. However, at the young age of 5 months old, I was given a DPT shot, and over night, feel into a deep, deep coma. For the next 14 days, I slept in a prolonged state of consciousness, having 30 % chance to live. I was also deemed and considered to be severely disabled. But I fooled them all- 18 months after being diagnosed with left side hemiplegia, Cerebral Palsy, my mother found a kind and warmhearted man, who had his own dance studio. She talked to Al Gilbert, and tap dance lessons began at the young age of 3 and ½ years old. These lessons, not only helped me physically, and taught me how to hop, jump, skip, and run; but these lessons build my self-esteem and self-confidence. These lessons became the driving force to develop my determination, tenacity, and will power never to give up on myself. These lessons also became my life’s goal towards helping others like me, and, my livelihood.

It also gave me the drive and push to go back to school, win the first Civil Rights Case, in the State of California, and attain my AA degree in English and dance. I was propelled and directed in this direction because I went through 12 years of education in a handicap school, never learning a thing; while being passed from one class to another. Although early on in my academic career, it was discovered that I had Dyslexia. The other strong influence that directed my purpose in this specific direction was my dance teachers unconditional love and devotion. Moreover, my ambition and effort to achieve these goals and dreams was a paramount and prime importance throughout my struggle.

The culmination and climax of all my previous efforts, was the publication of a fictionalized autobiography in 2006, called “The Broken Hoof.” This story in its infancy and incarnation won second prize in the Kaleidoscope Literary Prose fiction art contest of 1983. I am sure most of you can identify with the experience of an expert imposing rules or status on you. We all have to face these informalities, and define our own lives by our own terms. Unfortunately, I was mislabeled mentally challenged on three separate occasions, and it made me fight the fight of my life. It not only made me a stronger human being, but it made me realize that I could achieve my goals no matter what any one said or called me. These adversities empowered me to carve out a place in this world that is so heartless, and cold. I had to stand up to their unfeeling, insensitive and cold approach towards my wants, needs and desires, like a warrior. It has become and remains an aspiration of mine to continue to seek and stay the course, and keep the never ending journey.

I will close for now, so that you may ask any questions you like of me, and so that we can have a 20 minute exercise class. If you’d like to purchase my book, you can do so by special ordering it at your nearest book store. Or, you can either get the info from me or Ms. Russel. Thank you for this wonderful opportunity to share with you. And now I will take questions.

Scientific Advancements Overshadowing Human Values in Regards to People with Disabilities

Scientific Advancements Overshadowing Human Values in Regards to People with Disabilities

By Karen Lynn

March 2006

Dear Ms. Lasek, fellow friends, and facility. I am honored to be asked here, today, to be one of your guest speakers. Even though I am miles away, physically, I want each and every one of you to feel my presence. I want each and every one of you to feel my sincerity. And, most importantly, I want each and every one of you to feel the importance of these words, and to embody what it is that I am saying – so that my words empower you throughout the course of your life’s work and so things like this never happen again.

Your topic was…are scientific advancements overshadowing human values in regards to people with disabilities. I would have to say yes, most definitely. From the time I was a small child, until now, I have seen much through these green eyes of mine. That was over a half a century ago, now. I was born perfectly normal, and given my first DPT shot. I reacted with a slight fever, and recovered.

Then, at 5 months old, I was taken back to receive my second shot. My mother was very in tune with me, and asked that I be given this cerium in smaller increments, but my doctor would not listen. That was my very first experience to how a man, a doctor, a human being of service, overshadowed my rights. He hurried my mother out of his office, by saying- “If she is not better by morning, give her 2 aspirins.” Off he fled- never to be seen again. By morning, I was in a coma and was going to be deaf, dumb and blind.

I was very lucky, and made almost complete recovery. I was left with brain damage, later to be diagnosed with left side hemiplegic, Cerebral Palsy. Meaning, that my whole left side is and was affected. I can use my left leg, but it is ¾ of a inch shorter then my right, and I cannot rotate my ankle very well or point and flex my toes completely. My left arm is more involved and impaired. My whole body was actually twisted like a pretzel. I have never been able to hold items for longer that a half a minute and I cannot use my fingers or tell my hand what to do. It is like having the circuits of the switch board cut off. Thus, it is only a helping hand.

However, that never, ever held me back- even though I wore a full length leg brace for the first 11 years of my life; I was like any other child. But it was around 8 years of age that my mother realized that I also was not learning like the other children. A little while later, I was diagnosed with having a learning disability.

Did this really have to happen at all? No. If only this so called doctor, would not have obscured what my mother was trying to tell him. Things would or could have been so different. If only he really listened- If only he didn’t brush the matter of because he was too proud to ask for help- could he have talked with a colleague and collaborated? Sure he could have. Instead he sacrificed my life and played God- I ask you, then! If this doctor really cared- would he have listened to what my mother was telling him? Would he have been concerned enough, to treat me with some kind of respect, or human dignity! If indeed he did value these precious life commodities, called human rights, I probably would not be disabled today.

I am very lucky to have been given a mother as I was. She was a very proactive and progressive thinker. She moved mountains to get me to where I am today. She decided my IEP (individual education plan), and when she saw I was not learning- she went to the principal of the handicap school, and talked in my behalf to get a special education teacher to teach me, and the other students who needed the same help. It was also my mother who decided my IHP (individual habilitation plan). If these so called evaluators got there hands on me… my human rights would have been overshadowed in a split second. I observe, and am told time and again, of stories where disabled peoples rights are overshadowed repeatedly.

Even though our society says they have done a lot to raise the bare for the standards of the disabled. I know differently! I know first hand how our values and views are disregarded. Later, in my paper I will give you a first hand account of how I know. We the disabled are turned away at ever corner to get ahead in society, or to pursue our dreams or goals. We are conveniently pushed out of the way or out of site, not to be heard or seen. Most people do not like being around individuals who have a physical limitation. We make them feel uncomfortable and uneasy for what ever reason. We challenge them, threaten them, and present a depth and awareness of which they are afraid of. So, time and again, truth after truth; we the disabled are pleasantly and attractively shoved out of the way. Only to be devalued and de-humanized without little care or matter-

Whenever there are any issues of importance, these matters of discussions are covertly covered up. Even if there is a mediator on our behalf- these agencies cunningly denied these allegations with shrewdness. They slyly and charmingly dis-represent the disabled community.

Thankfully, there were those who could see what I needed and what I could become. Strongest among these, was my dear teacher, Al Gilbert. My mother developed the idea of using dance as therapy. Al Gilbert took on this challenge, and allowed my body to soar. Dance gave me strength, joy, and encouragement. It was through the dance routines, and bare exercises that my twisted body became straight and proud. Dance, opened up the world to new plains for me! It helped me to become the creative person I was meant to be.

My success as a dancer gave me the courage I needed to challenge the system in other areas. At the age of twenty-five, I made a conscious choice to go to college. To learn all the things I never learned in my basic education. These dreams and goals were conscious selections to make me the best person I could become- it was a set target within my being to overcome my learning disability of dyslexia. Yet, this plan and aim was met with all oppositions from the experts- who thought they knew ExACTly what I needed as a disabled person. There again, I was devalued and de-humanized. I was overshadowed by the system. My human rights were put to the test with abrupt, aggression, and antagonistic vengeance.

They thought they knew what they were talking about. But they did not know what they were headed for. Until they were presented and served with papers from lawyers, stating they were in direct violations of my civil rights. Did they not know! This was the first civil rights case under section 504 of the rehabilitation act of 1975. The very people who were suppose to help me, put up every obstacle in my path. To the experts, I was a threat- to the experts I was not a person, let alone a disabled person- to the experts, I was only a symbol. They attempted to mix me up and confuse me, only to be overcome by what I had determined to do. I was gently and cleverly isolated from the real world to become a productive person in society. All because they could not cope with a person such as myself, who was a self motivator and driven individual.

After winning the first civil rights case, in California, I began my college education. Thereafter, entering and winning 2 prize in the Kaleidoscope Literary prose, fiction art award of 1983. I graduated from Santa Monica College with honors, however once again, because of a new counselor, who, by the way was a deaf, mute, “expert”, was labeled mentally retarded, for a third time in my life. All because of an iq test which does not measure anything- and a “specialist”, who could not see my potential. Over the past 23 years of development, my story has now become a published work of art. It is called “The Broken Hoof” and relays how a young C.P. girl finds strength in a carrousel horse.

I hope my friends, that my struggles and achievements show that the human heart of a child of God is stronger then any piece of equipment.