I went to college well before the ADA was passed and within few months of being paralyzed. I did not have a clue about disability and college life when I left home. I was naive in the extreme. Today I joke that and I received a crash course on disability and in my spare time earned a BA. In retrospect I chose the perfect place to go to college. I attended Hofsta University and unbeknowst to me it had a major commitment to making the entire campus accessible. The express goal was 100% access. I did not choose to attend Hofstra for this reason. I went there for two reasons: the male female ratio was heavily in my favor and it was close to New York City. While all students learn a great deal at college, I learned more than most foremost among those things was the social consequences of disability. My peers with disabilities were a great help. I learned mundane things like how to change a tire on my wheelchair to how to assert my rights as a human being. My real teachers did not have PhDs but rather were my peers with disabilities. Hofstra was in many ways a bubble of security. I had rights, those rights were protected, and as an institution Hofstra had a major commitment to disability rights. This was not the norm at the time. I learned this at Columbia University where I encountered overwhelming opposition to access. I was the only student on campus that used a wheelchair. Access was deemed a "problem", one with no simple solution. Architectural integrity was critically important given the age and beauty of the campus. Ramps were ugly and there was no interest in helping me navigate the campus. Luckily I had a powerful ally on campus--Robert Murphy who by the time I met him was a quadriplegic. Whenever I had a problems with access, and I seemed to have one daily, I gave him a call and the problem would be magically resolved. Without his support, I would not have a PhD. Columbia was without question hostile to inclusion. Disabled students were perceived as a problem. Any accommodation had to be fought for and even when granted was frowned upon.
I do not think much has changed since I left Columbia with a PhD in hand in 1992. American universities, especially the more prestigious schools, consider any so called reasonable accommodations unseemly. There are many reasons for the resistance to access for students with disability. Cost, ignorance, and a total lack of commitment are the three primary reasons institutions of higher education resist making campuses inclusive. Exceptions of course exist. Hofstra maintains its commitment to access as doe others universities too numerous to mention here. But this was not and is not the norm. So what has changed since I went to college? Campuses nationwide present less architectural obstacles. Ramps abound as do elevators. But to me this is all window dressing. What has not changed is exclusionary attitudes and practices. While none will describe wheelchair access or reasonable accommodations for students with a learning disability as being a "problem" that does not mean such students are welcome. Wheelchair accessible bathrooms and dorm rooms for instance are hard to come by. Accommodations for students with a learning disability are even harder to get. Sure most campuses have an office for disability services. But the person that runs the office is rarely disabled. The focus on disability services is often an added on responsibility to an existing job and not a priority. Again, exceptions to this exist but what institutions of higher education have failed to do is equate disability rights with civil rights. Reasonable accommodations are perceived to be a problem or, worse yet, an unfair advantage, especially when it comes to students with a learning disability. More than once a colleague has complained that the school where I teach is "overrun with students that claim they have a learning disability". These scholars tell me "they are sick and tired of being forced to give students extra time on exams and refuse to help them". Animosity is not veiled nor is the belief students seeking any accommodation are really seeking an advantage over their peers.
My thoughts were reinforce after reading about two case at Princeton University last week. The Office of Civil Rights and the Department of Education reported it was investigating two student allegations that Princeton had violated the ADA. Both cases involved student requests for extra time on exams. It is alleged that the university applied excessive scrutiny to such requests and that it used the concept of academic integrity to deny compliance with the ADA. Yikes, this sounds familiar to what I observed at Columbia in the early 1990s. The Daily Princetonian reported about the law suits. I tend not to read comments at the end of such stories as I know all too well they will be negative. But the fact 58 people took time to reply, a large number, I took a glance at what others had to say and was shocked. Negative response were expected but nothing prepared me for how nasty the comment were. Here is a random sampling:
I can't believe the University gave in to Metcalf-Leggette's demands. They have sent a message that if ever you want an unfair advantage on your exams, all you have to do is sue the University.
The evidence that the accommodations were insufficient is that she "ran out of time on every exam"... because, ya know, nobody without disabilities requiring accommodations ever runs out of time on exams...
Kudos to Princeton for "prioritizing a commitment to �academic integrity�. And shame on Princeton for abandoning that commitment in the face of a law suit.
I love how I see this girl out on the street multiple times a week. In her future job, is she going to get 100% extended time? For example, if she becomes a trader, will the market remain open for a few more hours so she can catch up? Or how about a surgeon...will the patients kindly stay alive for twice as long as they would have otherwise so she can fix them up? This is ridiculous. Plenty of other athletes give up the sport they play so they can keep up with the curve at Princeton (not saying athletes are less intelligent--just saying athletes are humans and it's incredibly difficult to keep up with some of the robots here)--maybe this girl should consider that route before basically suing for permission to cheat on exams.
how many people at princeton have taken a test that they could not finish? raise your hands please. wow, pretty much everybody? i guess we all have learning disabilities and we should all be granted 100% time extensions.
�I�ve run out of time every time�. That's how tests are designed -- this is true for everyone!!!!!!!
i mean, i don't really understand how a severe dyslexic who would require twice the alotted time for exams could survive here anyway. How in the hell would they handle the workload? The hundreds of pages of reading per week? I'm not saying its not possible but most students who don't have learning disabilities have a hard enough time getting reading and writing assignments done on time. Does this mean a dyslexic should be given twice as long to complete papers? Two years for a thesis? Extra time on exams has always pissed me off and using ADHD as a crutch is embarrassing. Anybody who wants to get a prescription for study steroids can convince someone that they have attention issues. I'm less opposed to extra time for someone with dyslexia, but still confused about how they would hack it at Princeton beyond actual exams.
The comments above were written by Princeton students. I would estimate 95% of the comments were negative. This is a problem--"reasonable accommodations" are not perceived to be reasonable at all. Students with a disability are not seeking a level playing field but rather an unfair advantage. Th fact students at Princeton don't get the issue is not one of advantage but equality is symbolic of the failure of the ADA to change how American perceive and react to disability. Hence, my belief that not much has changed since I was a graduate student. A sobering thought on a hot and sticky day in New York.
Academic Conferences: Who Can Afford to Attend
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
For the next week I am on an austerity budget and many pasta meals are will be on the menu. I am good at budgeting my expenses. I rarely splurge on material things and in the estimation of my son am among the cheapest humans on the planet. My budget is stretched to the limit however in large part because I have been to two conferences in little over a month. At the time it did not seem like I was going to spend a lot and in truth I have not spent that much. But the price of gas and food alone put a small dent in my budget. The money I have spent is on my mind since I heard one scholar at the last conference I attended implore people with a disability to attend conferences. Great advice I thought which was quickly followed by a second thought: who can afford to attend these conferences without institutional backing? When I attend a conference all expenses come out of my pocket including registration. All academic conference are expensive and I draw the line at $200. This line eliminates many conferences I would like to attend and I will admit I make exceptions and spend more once in a while. Am I being cheap as my son would suggest? I think not when one adds in the cost to register, hotel or motel accommodations, food and transportation. For instance the conference I attended last weekend at Union College cost me almost $500. To me, that is an expensive weekend--a work weekend no less.
Another conference is coming up--the Society for Disability Studies in Philadelphia. After listening to the speaker last weekend, a scholar I respect, I thought, don't be so cheap, go ahead and splurge. Go to the SDS conference. I have not been in many years and Philadelphia is not too far from New York. So on-line I went and was astonished by the pricing. Yes, the SDS meeting is a yearly event, and yes I knew it would be expensive, and yes, I knew staying in a major city would cost a lot. But nothing prepared me for the below pricing for the SDS conference found on the SDS website:
Registration Category earlybird Cost regular rates
member - full conference registration (income above $45000) $315.00 $350.00
member - full conference registration (income between $20000 & $44999) $290.00 $325.00
member - full conference registration (income below $20000) $135.00 $150.00
member - single-day $180.00 $200.00
nonmember - full conference registration (income above $45000) $450.00 $450.00
nonmember - full conference registration (income between $20000 & $44999) $425.00 $425.00
nonmember - full conference registration (income below $20000) $200.00 $200.00
nonmember - single-day registration $250.00 $250.00
film pass only $20.00 $20.00
adjunct pass $50.00 $50.00
The above cost effectively eliminates any person without an institutional affiliation. The costs also eliminate virtually every person I know with a disability myself included. A quick bit of math reveals it will cost me $350 to get in the door and at least $100 to stay over night, With gas and tolls that is about a $500 day. The conference is four days long. So much for inclusion. Surely the people that run the SDS know that 66% of people with a disability are unemployed and that most live at or below the poverty line. I find this ironic in that the very people the SDS study could not possibly afford to attend their annual conference. No wonder I feel estranged from the SDS. Why for years I could not even afford to read the so called flagship journal of the organization--or have access to an article I wrote! Thankfully this has changed and I hope some semblance of sanity will prevail when it comes to registration costs for the SDS annual meetings. To me, the cost of conferences is a form of exclusion. Ivory Towers do exist and conferences are for those with an institutional backing or significant economic resources. I realize hosting conference is expensive but surely there must be a way of being inclusive. In fact I would speculate conferences would be far more lively and innovative is they were more inclusive.
Another conference is coming up--the Society for Disability Studies in Philadelphia. After listening to the speaker last weekend, a scholar I respect, I thought, don't be so cheap, go ahead and splurge. Go to the SDS conference. I have not been in many years and Philadelphia is not too far from New York. So on-line I went and was astonished by the pricing. Yes, the SDS meeting is a yearly event, and yes I knew it would be expensive, and yes, I knew staying in a major city would cost a lot. But nothing prepared me for the below pricing for the SDS conference found on the SDS website:
Registration Category earlybird Cost regular rates
member - full conference registration (income above $45000) $315.00 $350.00
member - full conference registration (income between $20000 & $44999) $290.00 $325.00
member - full conference registration (income below $20000) $135.00 $150.00
member - single-day $180.00 $200.00
nonmember - full conference registration (income above $45000) $450.00 $450.00
nonmember - full conference registration (income between $20000 & $44999) $425.00 $425.00
nonmember - full conference registration (income below $20000) $200.00 $200.00
nonmember - single-day registration $250.00 $250.00
film pass only $20.00 $20.00
adjunct pass $50.00 $50.00
The above cost effectively eliminates any person without an institutional affiliation. The costs also eliminate virtually every person I know with a disability myself included. A quick bit of math reveals it will cost me $350 to get in the door and at least $100 to stay over night, With gas and tolls that is about a $500 day. The conference is four days long. So much for inclusion. Surely the people that run the SDS know that 66% of people with a disability are unemployed and that most live at or below the poverty line. I find this ironic in that the very people the SDS study could not possibly afford to attend their annual conference. No wonder I feel estranged from the SDS. Why for years I could not even afford to read the so called flagship journal of the organization--or have access to an article I wrote! Thankfully this has changed and I hope some semblance of sanity will prevail when it comes to registration costs for the SDS annual meetings. To me, the cost of conferences is a form of exclusion. Ivory Towers do exist and conferences are for those with an institutional backing or significant economic resources. I realize hosting conference is expensive but surely there must be a way of being inclusive. In fact I would speculate conferences would be far more lively and innovative is they were more inclusive.
Discrimination Reported and Quickly Forgotten
Monday, May 24, 2010
I am just back from a conference at Union College entitled Disability and Ethics Through the Life Cycle. As I have noted I am not inclined to attend conferences. In part I am simply not that social and frankly the costs of attending conferences is significant. I prefer to spend my time and energies elsewhere. Regardless, I enjoyed as much as I can enjoy any conference. Though in this case I returned rather sad. I wonder how much, if any, progress was made at the conference I attended designed to find common ground. I saw first-hand a huge divide between activists and scholars, particularly between disability activists and bioethicists, exists. What struck me was the political aim and goals of the disability activists and the contrasting focus on scholasticism on the part of bioethicists. A divide exists when one should not. Many on each side share the same goals, not all for sure, but enough for a constructive dialogue. I am not sure such a dialogue will be forthcoming any time soon. However this is not the reason I am sad. When I got home I went on line to read the many websites I surf that report disability related news. Much of what I read was strikingly bad. The reports I read could be perceived as isolated stories. Here is what I read about:
A Colorado teacher duct taped a student with a disability hand to his wheelchair. This was his only means of communication.
A bus driver was fired for bullying a 4th grade student with Asperger's Syndrome.
A mother was arrested and is accused of starving her five year old son to death who had cerebral palsy.
In Philadelphia a man with a disability had his wheelchair and dog stolen from him.
The Wall Street Journal reports that states are slashing Medicaid and people with a disability are suffering more than any other population.
Where was I when all of this happening? At an academic conference doing nothing. All these news stories appeared over the weekend. I bet they were widely read and yet I bet no one else will connected them together. To me, these stories are the norm. Abuse, isolation, unemployment, barriers to education all remain common place, every day events. How can this be almost 20 years after the ADA was passed? A bright new era of equality was supposed to emerge. Well, I am sick of waiting and outraged. People are suffering and today I wonder who cares? I do and lose sleep over such stories. I hope and want more company. I want others to get involved, rally around disability rights, and state abuses and isolation will not be tolerated. I just wish I knew how to get others involved and share my outrage.
A Colorado teacher duct taped a student with a disability hand to his wheelchair. This was his only means of communication.
A bus driver was fired for bullying a 4th grade student with Asperger's Syndrome.
A mother was arrested and is accused of starving her five year old son to death who had cerebral palsy.
In Philadelphia a man with a disability had his wheelchair and dog stolen from him.
The Wall Street Journal reports that states are slashing Medicaid and people with a disability are suffering more than any other population.
Where was I when all of this happening? At an academic conference doing nothing. All these news stories appeared over the weekend. I bet they were widely read and yet I bet no one else will connected them together. To me, these stories are the norm. Abuse, isolation, unemployment, barriers to education all remain common place, every day events. How can this be almost 20 years after the ADA was passed? A bright new era of equality was supposed to emerge. Well, I am sick of waiting and outraged. People are suffering and today I wonder who cares? I do and lose sleep over such stories. I hope and want more company. I want others to get involved, rally around disability rights, and state abuses and isolation will not be tolerated. I just wish I knew how to get others involved and share my outrage.
Glee Makes me Glum
Thursday, May 20, 2010
I have refrained from commenting on the television program Glee. Much has been written about the fact the actor that plays Arnie, a paraplegic, is not paralyzed. Like many others, I find this troublesome. Surely there must be a paralyzed actor in America that is qualified for the part. I have not commented on Glee for two reasons: first, I do not like the show in spite of its apparent popularity with young people. Second, the episodes I have seen that deal with disability are a bizarre mix of astute observations and dreadful stereotypes. However the most recent episode contained no insights and just demeaning images and messages. I was stunned by what I saw. It was as if the directors took a step back in time, well before the ADA was passed to an era in which disability was akin to a social death.
At WHEELIE cATHOLIC it was observed:
"The problem with all this is that children and teens, who still buy into the fantasy of the entertainment world, are watching Glee in large numbers. Meanwhile, kids I love are being excluded in real life from class trips and social and educational opportunities, mainly because of how society thinks about disability. Just think about the messages sent in last night's episode:
You can't walk, so you can't dance.
You can't walk, so you can sit over there and wait while I get you a pretzel upstairs.
You can't walk, so sit in one spot and hold this for me.
And then:
I can't walk, so get another partner.
I can't walk, so I can't dance, I'll just sing.
I can't walk, so I can't realize my dream.
Message after message of what Arnie, the kid in a wheelchair, can't do. No wonder kids with disabilities are still excluded from opportunities. It's not because of their wheelchairs or because they can't walk far enough- it's because of how we think about disability. How teachers, educators and peers think about it. How they themselves are taught to think about it."
I have been paralyzed for over 30 years and I find it impossible to understand the constant never ending focus on what cannot be done. I cannot walk. That is a fact. So what. Walking as I have noted many times is over rated. Bipedal people really need to get over themselves. Just because a person can walk does not make them superior to those that cannot. But this is deeply embedded cultural belief. Disability is bad, walking is good. It is a mantra we are all unknowingly taught. The ramifications as WHEELIE cATHOLIC eloquently puts it are profound. Here is what I think when I come across other paralyzed people: What are they good at? How have they adapted and overcome social bigotry? Do they rail against social oblivion? The key difference is that I only see possibility and ability. I do not think or much less consider what cannot be done. This is the exact opposite from the message sent by the latest episode of Glee. For goodness sake I have never met a person that is paralyzed and dreams of walking or dancing. If a person that uses a wheelchair wants to dance, well, they dance. I do not know one person that researches for cure nor anyone dumb enough to try and get out of their wheelchair as Arnie did. This is stupid and melodramatic. Sadly, the producers must think this makes good drama and television.
Sadly, I see no hope for the future. Television caters to cultural cliches and dominate ideals held dear by society. If Glee wants to provide a gritty dream by a real life crippled guy here is one I would love to see. A hard ass crippled dude that refuses to take any crap. A person that asserts their rights and when they are violated lets others know it. How about a buff high-school paraplegic that blocks a school bus from leaving school because there is no wheelchair lift. Rather than support, our bad ass crippled dude is jeered by his peers. This sort of visual image and message sent would not sit well with the general public. However, it would be educational to a young audience. I would even like to believe such a message would be well received by young people.
At WHEELIE cATHOLIC it was observed:
"The problem with all this is that children and teens, who still buy into the fantasy of the entertainment world, are watching Glee in large numbers. Meanwhile, kids I love are being excluded in real life from class trips and social and educational opportunities, mainly because of how society thinks about disability. Just think about the messages sent in last night's episode:
You can't walk, so you can't dance.
You can't walk, so you can sit over there and wait while I get you a pretzel upstairs.
You can't walk, so sit in one spot and hold this for me.
And then:
I can't walk, so get another partner.
I can't walk, so I can't dance, I'll just sing.
I can't walk, so I can't realize my dream.
Message after message of what Arnie, the kid in a wheelchair, can't do. No wonder kids with disabilities are still excluded from opportunities. It's not because of their wheelchairs or because they can't walk far enough- it's because of how we think about disability. How teachers, educators and peers think about it. How they themselves are taught to think about it."
I have been paralyzed for over 30 years and I find it impossible to understand the constant never ending focus on what cannot be done. I cannot walk. That is a fact. So what. Walking as I have noted many times is over rated. Bipedal people really need to get over themselves. Just because a person can walk does not make them superior to those that cannot. But this is deeply embedded cultural belief. Disability is bad, walking is good. It is a mantra we are all unknowingly taught. The ramifications as WHEELIE cATHOLIC eloquently puts it are profound. Here is what I think when I come across other paralyzed people: What are they good at? How have they adapted and overcome social bigotry? Do they rail against social oblivion? The key difference is that I only see possibility and ability. I do not think or much less consider what cannot be done. This is the exact opposite from the message sent by the latest episode of Glee. For goodness sake I have never met a person that is paralyzed and dreams of walking or dancing. If a person that uses a wheelchair wants to dance, well, they dance. I do not know one person that researches for cure nor anyone dumb enough to try and get out of their wheelchair as Arnie did. This is stupid and melodramatic. Sadly, the producers must think this makes good drama and television.
Sadly, I see no hope for the future. Television caters to cultural cliches and dominate ideals held dear by society. If Glee wants to provide a gritty dream by a real life crippled guy here is one I would love to see. A hard ass crippled dude that refuses to take any crap. A person that asserts their rights and when they are violated lets others know it. How about a buff high-school paraplegic that blocks a school bus from leaving school because there is no wheelchair lift. Rather than support, our bad ass crippled dude is jeered by his peers. This sort of visual image and message sent would not sit well with the general public. However, it would be educational to a young audience. I would even like to believe such a message would be well received by young people.
Feel Good Stories are Impossible to Kill
Monday, May 17, 2010
The signature wounds of the Iraq war are to the best of my knowledge traumatic brain injuries and amputations. Stories about traumatic brain injury are hard to find but it seems to me that I routinely read about amputees. The focus when dealing with amputees, especially returning veterans, is the same--prosthetic technology technology is amazing as is the will to move on with life on the part of some people. I am a sucker for these feel good stories that mix technology and with raw emotion. I am drawn to them and repulsed at the same time. Once such story that appeared on CBS news last week has stuck with me. The story was about Brendan Marrocco, a man from nearby Staten Island, N.Y and the only soldier to lose all four limbs and survive. The fact Mr. Marrocco is alive is amazing--he was not expected to live. What is not so amazing is the way his story is portrayed. In melodramatic fashion, CBS reports: "Every once in a while, something happens or we meet someone and the experience is so powerful, it forces us to stop a minute and think--and maybe readjust how we feel about our lives and the world around us". Thus begins the story by David Martin about Mr. Marrocco who is characterized as an "amazing man" who "lost all his limb fighting for his country but never gave up his American spirit". According to Martin, Mr. Marrocco has "a very good sense of balance--physical and emotional" who vows "I will not sit down and let my injuries take over my life". Mr. Marraccco's physical therapist, Luis Garcia, notes that working with a quadruple amputee is "a lot easier than I thought it would be because of his character and personality".
I have no doubt Mr. Marrocco is a strong willed man. I have no doubt he has worked hard during his rehab. I am sure he will lead a productive life. I may sound harsh but I cannot help but add so what. Think about it this way" Mr. Marrocco is 23 years old and engaged to be married. His entire adult life is ahead of him. Why should he not be looking ahead and planning to live a rich and rewarding life? Does he face daunting obstacles without limbs? You bet he does. But are those obstacle social or practical? One gets only a passing reference to the real struggles Mr. Marrocco will encounter. What I found of most interest was his comparison of missing his arms as opposed to his legs. Mr. Marrocco is quoted "Without legs you can still be independent. You know, without arms there's so much more you can't do". While I am not an amputee I can directly relate to this observation. To me, my legs are superfluous appendages. My legs do not function though they are still useful in many ways. And yet I often wonder what my life would be like if I did not have the full use of my arms. Now this is a story worth reporting about. What obstacles do people without arms or the use of their arms face in comparison to those without legs or the use of them? How does the rehab experienced differ? What sort of future do such people have? What do we get in place of these sorts of hard questions? Fluff. Mr. Marrocco met Tiger Woods! Mr. Marrocco hit the ski slopes. Again, I emphatically state so what. Why shouldn't Mr. Marrocco ski and play golf? That is what adaptive sports is all about and Mr. Marrocco is no different than many others. But this thought process is never what the mainstream media presents. Instead we get dreadful lines such as those already quoted or "After meeting Marrocco its hard to take anything in your own life for granted".
No wonder the social interaction between those with and those without a disability is so skewed. We people with a disability are not really fully human but an ever present reminder of how grateful others should be for having an ordinary life, one that does not involve paralysis or losing limbs or any other physical deficit. When I read stories such as the one in question I want to run out my door and shout "I am a human being". I do not envy Mr. Marroccco for I can well imagine the practical and social obstacles he will encounter. I can also state I do not nor did I ever want to be paralyzed. But life this is my life I will make the best of it. This is a uniquely human penchant and thus I differ not one iota from others. The difference I experience as a paralyzed man is socially constructed. The socially constructed barriers are propagated by feel good stories the mainstream media loves to publish and the public soaks up. Until this changes the social obstacles I encounter will never be ameliorated.
I have no doubt Mr. Marrocco is a strong willed man. I have no doubt he has worked hard during his rehab. I am sure he will lead a productive life. I may sound harsh but I cannot help but add so what. Think about it this way" Mr. Marrocco is 23 years old and engaged to be married. His entire adult life is ahead of him. Why should he not be looking ahead and planning to live a rich and rewarding life? Does he face daunting obstacles without limbs? You bet he does. But are those obstacle social or practical? One gets only a passing reference to the real struggles Mr. Marrocco will encounter. What I found of most interest was his comparison of missing his arms as opposed to his legs. Mr. Marrocco is quoted "Without legs you can still be independent. You know, without arms there's so much more you can't do". While I am not an amputee I can directly relate to this observation. To me, my legs are superfluous appendages. My legs do not function though they are still useful in many ways. And yet I often wonder what my life would be like if I did not have the full use of my arms. Now this is a story worth reporting about. What obstacles do people without arms or the use of their arms face in comparison to those without legs or the use of them? How does the rehab experienced differ? What sort of future do such people have? What do we get in place of these sorts of hard questions? Fluff. Mr. Marrocco met Tiger Woods! Mr. Marrocco hit the ski slopes. Again, I emphatically state so what. Why shouldn't Mr. Marrocco ski and play golf? That is what adaptive sports is all about and Mr. Marrocco is no different than many others. But this thought process is never what the mainstream media presents. Instead we get dreadful lines such as those already quoted or "After meeting Marrocco its hard to take anything in your own life for granted".
No wonder the social interaction between those with and those without a disability is so skewed. We people with a disability are not really fully human but an ever present reminder of how grateful others should be for having an ordinary life, one that does not involve paralysis or losing limbs or any other physical deficit. When I read stories such as the one in question I want to run out my door and shout "I am a human being". I do not envy Mr. Marroccco for I can well imagine the practical and social obstacles he will encounter. I can also state I do not nor did I ever want to be paralyzed. But life this is my life I will make the best of it. This is a uniquely human penchant and thus I differ not one iota from others. The difference I experience as a paralyzed man is socially constructed. The socially constructed barriers are propagated by feel good stories the mainstream media loves to publish and the public soaks up. Until this changes the social obstacles I encounter will never be ameliorated.
Becoming a Social Butterfly
Friday, May 14, 2010
I am not the most social person in the world. When I mentioned this to my son he laughed out loud and said "Dad, you are not social, you are anti-social and don't like people". It was my turn to laugh and admit my son was correct. I do not like to socialize and do my best to avoid groups of people. I will also admit there are many people I meet and must interact with that I do not like. The reason I am "anti-social" in my son's estimation are personal a practical. I struggle to keep up in groups--my mind does not work fast enough to enjoy much less participate in conversations. It does not help that much of the conversation takes place about two feet above my head and I miss much of what is said. But truth be told, I much prefer the company of one or two other people. When invited to parties or conferences I routinely turn down such opportunities. This has me wondering why I am thinking about attending a large event. Here I refer to the Disability Power and Pride Gala Celebration to commemorate the 20th anniversary of the ADA to be held on July 26.
I had thought of having a small party on July 26 at my home. But virtually no one I know would appreciate the significance of the event. When I saw the announcement for the Disability Power and Pride Gala my first thought was that I would never go to such an event. This party is for rich and connected crippled people. It is held in Washington and surely must cost a fortune to attend. Afterall it is not a party but a gala. Galas are expensive. To confirm my prejudice I looked up how much tickets to the gala cost. Much to my chagrin they were $100 a seat. I figured the cost would be five to ten times higher. My next thought was that I could live with spending $100 for a ticket given the fact I would be surrounded by people that appreciate the significance of the ADA. What in the world is going on with me? Yes, $100 is a lot of money but not when compared to the cost of a ticket to a professional sporting event or show on Broadway in New York. I think spending $100 to attend a gala, not a party or celebration mind you, is reasonable. Thus I am impressed. The gala organizers are not looking to attract only rich crippled people as I mistakenly assumed. I also heard that the first Inaugural Ball held in 2009 was a big success. I spoke to a person that attended and saw clips of performances on You Tube. So, maybe I will go to the gala. Does this mean I am turning into a social butterfly? When I expressed this sentiment to my son he gave me a withering look of disdain only a teenager can deliver to a parent and said "Dad, for you becoming a social butterfly is just not going to happen--ever". Now those are fighting words. I think I may go just to shock my son.
I had thought of having a small party on July 26 at my home. But virtually no one I know would appreciate the significance of the event. When I saw the announcement for the Disability Power and Pride Gala my first thought was that I would never go to such an event. This party is for rich and connected crippled people. It is held in Washington and surely must cost a fortune to attend. Afterall it is not a party but a gala. Galas are expensive. To confirm my prejudice I looked up how much tickets to the gala cost. Much to my chagrin they were $100 a seat. I figured the cost would be five to ten times higher. My next thought was that I could live with spending $100 for a ticket given the fact I would be surrounded by people that appreciate the significance of the ADA. What in the world is going on with me? Yes, $100 is a lot of money but not when compared to the cost of a ticket to a professional sporting event or show on Broadway in New York. I think spending $100 to attend a gala, not a party or celebration mind you, is reasonable. Thus I am impressed. The gala organizers are not looking to attract only rich crippled people as I mistakenly assumed. I also heard that the first Inaugural Ball held in 2009 was a big success. I spoke to a person that attended and saw clips of performances on You Tube. So, maybe I will go to the gala. Does this mean I am turning into a social butterfly? When I expressed this sentiment to my son he gave me a withering look of disdain only a teenager can deliver to a parent and said "Dad, for you becoming a social butterfly is just not going to happen--ever". Now those are fighting words. I think I may go just to shock my son.
Being a Parent with a Disability
Thursday, May 13, 2010
In about ten days I will be presenting a paper at a conference: Disability and Ethics Through the Life Cycle: Cases, Controversies & Finding Common Ground. The conference is at Union College and my paper is part of a session entitled "The Reproductive Years: Ethics and Disability". This will be my second conference in about a month--unusual for me. Given the subject matter of my upcoming talk, parenting with a disability, I have been rather retrospective. Personally I find it a shock that my son is a legal adult and will head off to college next Fall. How and when I wonder did he and I get so old. Academically, these thoughts have been mirrored by the knowledge the 20th anniversary of the ADA is upon us. Of course, this has not garnered much if any news in the mainstream media. Regardless, the fact the birth of my son and the passage of the ADA took place at roughly the same time has made me think about how the cultural perception of disability has changed in the last two decades.
The express purpose of the ADA was to �establish a clear and comprehensive prohibition of discrimination on the basis of disability�. For the first time in American history and in my life as a man with a disability I was awarded similar protections against discrimination that the Civil Rights Act of 1964 guaranteed others based on race, religion, and national origins. While the ADA theoretically made me equal and placed the law firmly on my side, American society did not suddenly accept people with disability. In fact I believe rampant discrimination against people with a disability is as common today as it was in 1990. What has changed is the sort of discrimination people with a disability encounter and this is indicative of two distinct eras in disability history�the pre and post ADA time periods, eras bisected by my son's birth. In brief, the discrimination people with a disability encountered prior to the passage of the ADA was blatant and destructive. An untold number of lives were destroyed. In the post ADA era discrimination is far more insidious and polite though no less destructive. Most agree discrimination against people with a disability is wrong but support services are grossly under funded and basic access remains problematic at best.
Progress in terms of disability rights has been made largely through the efforts of disability rights groups such as ADAPT, Disability Rights and Education Defense Fund, Not Dead Yet and others too numerous to mention. Today, people with a disability can boldly proclaim they are �disabled and proud�. I too am disabled and proud and my identity is closely tied to my disability in a positive manner. For this, I owe the disability rights movement a great debt. This pride and my background in anthropology, particularly my association with Robert Murphy, empowered me to understand and reject the stigma associated with using a wheelchair. Rejecting the overpowering presence of discrimination past and present is not easy. I still vividly recall the discrimination I experienced as the parent of a new-born child circa 1992. Strangers blatantly questioned my ability to father a child. Every time I went out with my son a person would inevitably ask �Are you the biological father?. Others questioned my ability to and care for a child and more than one pediatrician grilled me on how I physically cared for my son. This sort of bigotry was a constant theme that I encountered.
At the time my son was born I was flagrantly violating social norms associated with disability: I was highly educated, articulate, employed, married, and a father. None of these ordinary life experiences were or are associated with disability despite the fact there are an estimated 8 million families that include a parent with a disability. But fatherhood made me stand out (pun intended). As a parent, I suddenly became public property. Anonymity was not possible. Strangers, friends, family, and all those I encountered had an opinion about my ability to parent and care for a child. No one hesitated to express their opinion and the questions directed at me were stunning. I was shocked by my loss of privacy and the utter lack of trust in my ability to care for another human being. The message sent via this constant assault on my abilities was crystal clear: paralyzed people such as myself were not parental material. My disability precluded parenting a child.
The assumption paralyzed people could not become parents was wrong. It also affects a larger number of people. According to the Brain & Spinal.org approximately 12,000 spinal cord injuries occur a year. Although exact figures are hard to determine, it is estimated that between 229,000 and 306,000 people live much of their life with a spinal cord injury. Most of these people (80%) are men who are of age when they can expect to become a parent. In terms of parenting, spinal cord injury affects both men and women. Following a spinal cord injury women may become amenorrheic for up to a year. However, once their cycle returns to normal they can conceive and bear children. The birth rate among those women with a spinal cord injury is very similar to the general female population. In contrast to the normal fertility experienced by women with spinal cord injury, most men experience fertility impairments. These impairments range widely from erectile and ejaculatory dysfunction to poor semen motility. Some within the medical profession maintain fertility impairments alone account for the fact that only 1% of men with a spinal cord injury father a child. I maintain the reasons why men with a spinal cord injury do not become fathers is more social than medical. According to the medical literature 95% of paralyzed men produce semen. With access to rudimentary reproductive technology these men can become fathers. The disparity between the aforementioned statistics reveals a profound cultural prejudice exists: men who are paralyzed are not expected to become parents. The reason why this false assumption still exists is perplexing. It highlights that what laws such as the ADA state and cultural reality are very different. Sure, we paralyzed people are equal in the eyes of the court but that is not nor has ever been reflected in my experiences as a man and father. Why I wonder has progress for disability rights been glacially slow? This is a question that has kept me up many a night and for which I have no ready or simple answer. What I do know is that the disability prejudice I encounter drives me. I fight back for myself and others in the hope that someday people will see paralysis as nothing more than a practical problem, one that has a myriad of well established solutions.
The express purpose of the ADA was to �establish a clear and comprehensive prohibition of discrimination on the basis of disability�. For the first time in American history and in my life as a man with a disability I was awarded similar protections against discrimination that the Civil Rights Act of 1964 guaranteed others based on race, religion, and national origins. While the ADA theoretically made me equal and placed the law firmly on my side, American society did not suddenly accept people with disability. In fact I believe rampant discrimination against people with a disability is as common today as it was in 1990. What has changed is the sort of discrimination people with a disability encounter and this is indicative of two distinct eras in disability history�the pre and post ADA time periods, eras bisected by my son's birth. In brief, the discrimination people with a disability encountered prior to the passage of the ADA was blatant and destructive. An untold number of lives were destroyed. In the post ADA era discrimination is far more insidious and polite though no less destructive. Most agree discrimination against people with a disability is wrong but support services are grossly under funded and basic access remains problematic at best.
Progress in terms of disability rights has been made largely through the efforts of disability rights groups such as ADAPT, Disability Rights and Education Defense Fund, Not Dead Yet and others too numerous to mention. Today, people with a disability can boldly proclaim they are �disabled and proud�. I too am disabled and proud and my identity is closely tied to my disability in a positive manner. For this, I owe the disability rights movement a great debt. This pride and my background in anthropology, particularly my association with Robert Murphy, empowered me to understand and reject the stigma associated with using a wheelchair. Rejecting the overpowering presence of discrimination past and present is not easy. I still vividly recall the discrimination I experienced as the parent of a new-born child circa 1992. Strangers blatantly questioned my ability to father a child. Every time I went out with my son a person would inevitably ask �Are you the biological father?. Others questioned my ability to and care for a child and more than one pediatrician grilled me on how I physically cared for my son. This sort of bigotry was a constant theme that I encountered.
At the time my son was born I was flagrantly violating social norms associated with disability: I was highly educated, articulate, employed, married, and a father. None of these ordinary life experiences were or are associated with disability despite the fact there are an estimated 8 million families that include a parent with a disability. But fatherhood made me stand out (pun intended). As a parent, I suddenly became public property. Anonymity was not possible. Strangers, friends, family, and all those I encountered had an opinion about my ability to parent and care for a child. No one hesitated to express their opinion and the questions directed at me were stunning. I was shocked by my loss of privacy and the utter lack of trust in my ability to care for another human being. The message sent via this constant assault on my abilities was crystal clear: paralyzed people such as myself were not parental material. My disability precluded parenting a child.
The assumption paralyzed people could not become parents was wrong. It also affects a larger number of people. According to the Brain & Spinal.org approximately 12,000 spinal cord injuries occur a year. Although exact figures are hard to determine, it is estimated that between 229,000 and 306,000 people live much of their life with a spinal cord injury. Most of these people (80%) are men who are of age when they can expect to become a parent. In terms of parenting, spinal cord injury affects both men and women. Following a spinal cord injury women may become amenorrheic for up to a year. However, once their cycle returns to normal they can conceive and bear children. The birth rate among those women with a spinal cord injury is very similar to the general female population. In contrast to the normal fertility experienced by women with spinal cord injury, most men experience fertility impairments. These impairments range widely from erectile and ejaculatory dysfunction to poor semen motility. Some within the medical profession maintain fertility impairments alone account for the fact that only 1% of men with a spinal cord injury father a child. I maintain the reasons why men with a spinal cord injury do not become fathers is more social than medical. According to the medical literature 95% of paralyzed men produce semen. With access to rudimentary reproductive technology these men can become fathers. The disparity between the aforementioned statistics reveals a profound cultural prejudice exists: men who are paralyzed are not expected to become parents. The reason why this false assumption still exists is perplexing. It highlights that what laws such as the ADA state and cultural reality are very different. Sure, we paralyzed people are equal in the eyes of the court but that is not nor has ever been reflected in my experiences as a man and father. Why I wonder has progress for disability rights been glacially slow? This is a question that has kept me up many a night and for which I have no ready or simple answer. What I do know is that the disability prejudice I encounter drives me. I fight back for myself and others in the hope that someday people will see paralysis as nothing more than a practical problem, one that has a myriad of well established solutions.
The ADA, Procrastination and Gas Pumps
Friday, May 7, 2010
I have a stack of final exams on my desk that must be graded. This is serious work with a firm deadline I always meet. Yet I will do almost anything to avoid grading the exams. I love teaching but not grading. Grading exams is hard work and students are under great pressure to get good grades. I sympathize with students but can only base my assessment of their work based on what they hand in to me. This leads to frustration and, right now, procrastination in the form of this post and a need to fill the gas tank of my car. Yes, I needed gas but I really did not need to go out and fill up the tank this morning. I wanted to avoid my exams, get out in the early morning fresh air, and enjoy a short drive. So there I am pumping my gas when I noticed the blue wheelchair logo on the pump in the bright sunlight. I have not read the little wheelchair logo post in quite some time. However, I do know the law--here I refer to the ADA as it relates to assistance for disabled drivers at self service gas stations. What does the law state? Gas stations have the duty to assist disabled persons at the gas pump. The ADA requires self service stations to provide equal access to their customers. If more than one employee is on duty a gas station must provide refueling assistance to a disabled individual who has a handicapped placard or license plate. Customers with a disability let the service station know they need help by honking twice or signaling an employee. Gas stations may not charge a disabled person for pumping their gas.
I have been driving for over 30 years. Not once have I seen or heard of a disabled person being assisted at a gas station. Like anyone else, I have pumped my own gas on rainy days, in frigid cold, and searing heat. No one has ever asked me if I needed or wanted help. While I have never tried to seek the assistance of a station attendant, I find it hard to imagine this would go over well. Gas stations present many obstacles in terms of access. Bathrooms, aside from often being filthy, are rarely accessible. Ramps to enter the station are often blocked by fire wood in the winter and cases of water in the summer. If one can enter a station the aisles are so narrow they are impossible to navigate. Beer is stacked high and junk food abounds.
While the obstacles at gas stations and an obscure part of the ADA such as assisting disabled gas station customers may seem to be inconsequential, it highlights a larger problem. The ADA is just not taken seriously or poorly understood. Add in the ADA is often interpreted by people who know little about disability nor have an interest in making a business accessible and it is no wonder barriers abound. But it is not just businesses that seek to avoid the ADA. Schools, both public and private, routinely ignore or avoid ADA regulations. I had to shame my son's secondary school into making the auditorium accessible and even when they renovated it did not follow ADA guidelines. The university where I teach is grossly inaccessible and is a SUNY school! My point is that the lack of access at my local has station is symbolic of a much larger problem--the ADA is ignored or, worse, unknown. I hope that with the 20th anniversary of the ADA around the corner this may change. Moreover, it is my hope that the ADA will become known for what it really is: civil rights legislation. While I have great hopes, given the dismal state of the economy and lack of interest, I do not really expect the 20th anniversary of the ADA to resonate with the general public. However, I am planning on having a big party at my home next July to celebrate. While most Americans do not care, I for one I am grateful and proud to know a law like the ADA exists and that we elected legislators who had the wisdom to pen such civil rights legislation.
I have been driving for over 30 years. Not once have I seen or heard of a disabled person being assisted at a gas station. Like anyone else, I have pumped my own gas on rainy days, in frigid cold, and searing heat. No one has ever asked me if I needed or wanted help. While I have never tried to seek the assistance of a station attendant, I find it hard to imagine this would go over well. Gas stations present many obstacles in terms of access. Bathrooms, aside from often being filthy, are rarely accessible. Ramps to enter the station are often blocked by fire wood in the winter and cases of water in the summer. If one can enter a station the aisles are so narrow they are impossible to navigate. Beer is stacked high and junk food abounds.
While the obstacles at gas stations and an obscure part of the ADA such as assisting disabled gas station customers may seem to be inconsequential, it highlights a larger problem. The ADA is just not taken seriously or poorly understood. Add in the ADA is often interpreted by people who know little about disability nor have an interest in making a business accessible and it is no wonder barriers abound. But it is not just businesses that seek to avoid the ADA. Schools, both public and private, routinely ignore or avoid ADA regulations. I had to shame my son's secondary school into making the auditorium accessible and even when they renovated it did not follow ADA guidelines. The university where I teach is grossly inaccessible and is a SUNY school! My point is that the lack of access at my local has station is symbolic of a much larger problem--the ADA is ignored or, worse, unknown. I hope that with the 20th anniversary of the ADA around the corner this may change. Moreover, it is my hope that the ADA will become known for what it really is: civil rights legislation. While I have great hopes, given the dismal state of the economy and lack of interest, I do not really expect the 20th anniversary of the ADA to resonate with the general public. However, I am planning on having a big party at my home next July to celebrate. While most Americans do not care, I for one I am grateful and proud to know a law like the ADA exists and that we elected legislators who had the wisdom to pen such civil rights legislation.
Is Being An Ordinary Human Possible
Monday, May 3, 2010
It is a gloomy morning and the weather matches my mood. I am not happy and I know why. I feel estranged from society and grossly misunderstood by the average citizen. Indeed, I feel like a cartoon character. I can never win for two popular perceptions of disability exist and dominate cultural discourse. Option one: I am a super cripple able to do amazing things. I am married or divorced, employed, and participate in outdoor activities. Yes, we cripple people can ski, kayak, camp, and go for hikes. For leading an ordinary life we super cripples are put on a pedestal and admired because we have "overcome our disability". Most importantly, we super cripples put all those other lazy crippled people to shame as they surely spend their time feeling sorry for themselves. Option 2: The socially dependent mess. These people lack the character to overcome their disability. They have no job. They live at home with family well past an acceptable age or worse yet are dependent upon the government. The dependent mess has no life, sits around feeling sorry for themselves and have no future. I despise both these simplistic and misleading options.
How and why I wonder are people with no knowledge of disability so stupid. In large part I blame the mainstream media. Sob stories about disability abound. Here I refer to the heart breaking story about an ordinary person that is struck down by a disability and their life is destroyed. The reader counts his or her blessings and moves on with their day. The message however is clear, disability is bad and can run your life. The other extreme reference to disability is one I have learned to detest because I am too often put in this category--the super cripple! There was a long article in the New York Times that took the super cripple to a new and bizarre extreme. The story was a hybrid--the person portrayed, Dayniah Manderson, was a super cripple but doomed by their disability at the same time. Here I am referring to the NYT story "Bent Not Broken" by Kassie Bracken and Erik Olson (April 30) that was accompanied by a ten minute video. By the time I was done reading this story I was livid. Maudlin in the extreme, lines such as "From the time she wakes up until the hour she is lifted into bed, each moment can be a reminder of what does not fit--a spirit that does not fit a body, a body that does not fit a wheelchair, a wheelchair that does not fit a world" were painful to read. Worse yet her friend and doctor, Roberta Shapiro, who "counseled" Manderson and secured life saving surgery for her dramatically states "I couldn't live inside her body".
Deconstructing the NYT story is of no interest to me. I have done this before and it is not worth the effort to do so again. Rather, what I am amazed at are the issues raised and dismissed or utterly ignored in the story. Manderson is a minority within a minority as the presence of women with a disability is unusual. Manderson is also a woman of color from Montego Bay, Jamaica who was incorrectly diagnosed with muscular dystrophy when she was two years old. She moved to the United States in 1995 where she excelled academically. She gradated from New York University with an MA. She is a mother and is currently a teacher at an elementary school. These bare bones facts are about as ordinary as ordinary can be. However, scattered in the story are the following:
Manderson is dropped off at school an hour before he colleagues at a locked handicapped accessible entrance.
She uses Access-a-Ride.
The elevator where she works is often broken.
She often is forced to dehydrate herself at work.
She moved to the USA when a local doctor offered to treat her for "evil spirits".
Her motorized wheelchair cost $35,000.
Golly is she not an amazing woman to overcome all of the above. In a word, no. What Manderson is overcoming is an utter lack of support for the law, civil rights legislation, known as the ADA passed almost 20 years ago. Many of the so called obstacles Manderson encounters are illegal or certainly wrong and were supposed to have been eliminated long ago. At no point does the article mention that Access-a-Ride is on of the worst para-transit systems in the United States. No mention is made of why she must arrive well before her colleagues or at an accessible entrance that is locked. No mention is made of why the elevators are broken or that moving a class is a legally required reasonable accommodation. No mention is made of why her wheelchair costs as much as a car. No mention is made of why she regularly dehydrates herself at work. No mention is made of how she managed to escape institutionalization in Jamaica. No mention is made of how she managed to get into or graduate from New York University. What do we get instead? Drama and more drama and life saving surgery replete with x-rays to accompany the story. A fascinating life that could have been used to highlight its complexity is reduced to a carton image of a woman overcoming her disability. No wonder people do not understand disability and it cultural implications. No wonder people do not think the ADA is civil rights legislation. In the place of real reporting, real information we get simplistic heart warming stories about a super cripple that has overcome her disability. Those ignorant about the social obstacles people with a disability encounter on a daily basis are not discussed. Social progress is not made, stereotypes remain common place, and people with a disability continue to remain the most disenfranchised minority in not just the USA but the world. No wonder I feel estranged from society.
How and why I wonder are people with no knowledge of disability so stupid. In large part I blame the mainstream media. Sob stories about disability abound. Here I refer to the heart breaking story about an ordinary person that is struck down by a disability and their life is destroyed. The reader counts his or her blessings and moves on with their day. The message however is clear, disability is bad and can run your life. The other extreme reference to disability is one I have learned to detest because I am too often put in this category--the super cripple! There was a long article in the New York Times that took the super cripple to a new and bizarre extreme. The story was a hybrid--the person portrayed, Dayniah Manderson, was a super cripple but doomed by their disability at the same time. Here I am referring to the NYT story "Bent Not Broken" by Kassie Bracken and Erik Olson (April 30) that was accompanied by a ten minute video. By the time I was done reading this story I was livid. Maudlin in the extreme, lines such as "From the time she wakes up until the hour she is lifted into bed, each moment can be a reminder of what does not fit--a spirit that does not fit a body, a body that does not fit a wheelchair, a wheelchair that does not fit a world" were painful to read. Worse yet her friend and doctor, Roberta Shapiro, who "counseled" Manderson and secured life saving surgery for her dramatically states "I couldn't live inside her body".
Deconstructing the NYT story is of no interest to me. I have done this before and it is not worth the effort to do so again. Rather, what I am amazed at are the issues raised and dismissed or utterly ignored in the story. Manderson is a minority within a minority as the presence of women with a disability is unusual. Manderson is also a woman of color from Montego Bay, Jamaica who was incorrectly diagnosed with muscular dystrophy when she was two years old. She moved to the United States in 1995 where she excelled academically. She gradated from New York University with an MA. She is a mother and is currently a teacher at an elementary school. These bare bones facts are about as ordinary as ordinary can be. However, scattered in the story are the following:
Manderson is dropped off at school an hour before he colleagues at a locked handicapped accessible entrance.
She uses Access-a-Ride.
The elevator where she works is often broken.
She often is forced to dehydrate herself at work.
She moved to the USA when a local doctor offered to treat her for "evil spirits".
Her motorized wheelchair cost $35,000.
Golly is she not an amazing woman to overcome all of the above. In a word, no. What Manderson is overcoming is an utter lack of support for the law, civil rights legislation, known as the ADA passed almost 20 years ago. Many of the so called obstacles Manderson encounters are illegal or certainly wrong and were supposed to have been eliminated long ago. At no point does the article mention that Access-a-Ride is on of the worst para-transit systems in the United States. No mention is made of why she must arrive well before her colleagues or at an accessible entrance that is locked. No mention is made of why the elevators are broken or that moving a class is a legally required reasonable accommodation. No mention is made of why her wheelchair costs as much as a car. No mention is made of why she regularly dehydrates herself at work. No mention is made of how she managed to escape institutionalization in Jamaica. No mention is made of how she managed to get into or graduate from New York University. What do we get instead? Drama and more drama and life saving surgery replete with x-rays to accompany the story. A fascinating life that could have been used to highlight its complexity is reduced to a carton image of a woman overcoming her disability. No wonder people do not understand disability and it cultural implications. No wonder people do not think the ADA is civil rights legislation. In the place of real reporting, real information we get simplistic heart warming stories about a super cripple that has overcome her disability. Those ignorant about the social obstacles people with a disability encounter on a daily basis are not discussed. Social progress is not made, stereotypes remain common place, and people with a disability continue to remain the most disenfranchised minority in not just the USA but the world. No wonder I feel estranged from society.
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