Judge Rotenberg Center Petition

 

In 2002, a special needs student named Andre McCollins was allegedly strapped down and electrocuted for hours, leaving him with permanent brain damage, all because he refused to take off his jacket. The people torturing Andre were officials at his school. You can watch what happened on video.

The video was shot at a Massachusetts school for special needs kids called the Judge Rotenberg Center (JRC). Gregory Miller used to be a teacher there, and he says electrocuting kids as punishment is extremely common — even for minor offenses like raising your hand to go to the bathroom.

“A non-verbal, nearly blind girl with cerebral palsy was shocked for attempts to hold a staff member’s hand — her attempts to communicate and to be loved,” Gregory says.

Gregory desperately wants to help the kids at the JRC —that’s why he started a petition onChange.org demanding that the JRC stop using electroshock to punish kids. Click here to add your name.

Gregory says the JRC’s founder created electroshock devices which are even stronger than police stun guns to punish students for bad behavior. An official at the United Nations said that using these devices on children is considered torture.

According to theBoston Globe, the JRC’s founder resigned after being charged with misleading a grand jury by destroying video footage of other students being shocked.

Gregory believes that if thousands of people sign his petition, his former bosses will capitulate in the intense pressure generated by a national spotlight.

Click here to sign Gregory’s petition demanding that the JRC immediately cease its practice of punishing special needs kids with electroshock devices.

Thanks for being a change-maker,

– Jon and theChange.org team

Kudos to NPR on the Subject of Chen Guancheng's Blindness

Thanks to Alan Greenblatt of NPR for writing today about the issue of Chen Guancheng’s blindness and the overtly dynamic positioning of the “b” word in the press coverage of the Chinese dissident. Greenblatt’s piece, entitled “A Factor in a Much Larger Life: Debating Chen Guancheng’s Blindness” does a nice job of arguing that people with disabilities are not, in fact defined by those disabilities, and I’m glad to have been asked for some comments on the subject. Kudos to the folks at NPR for bucking the media’s fixation on the blindness as a determinant symbol of what is indeed a much larger life.

Previously published on Steve’s other blog, Planet of the Blind

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Professor Stephen Kuusisto, blind since birth, is the author of “Eavesdropping: A Memoir of Blindness and Listening” and the acclaimed memoir “Planet of the Blind”, a New York Times “Notable Book of the Year”. He has also published “Only Bread, Only Light“, a collection of poems from Copper Canyon Press. As director of the Renee Crown University Honors Program and a University Professor at Syracuse University, Steve speaks widely on diversity, disability, education, and public policy.

Disability and Poetry, Part 145

Thanks to Chris B whose blog Through Alien Eyes is a thoughtful and lovely place for disability reflections. He heard me speak recently on disability and poetry at The Ohio State University and has written a kindly analysis of my presentation.

When I am In New York City with my guide dog the happiness of the city is mine. Swiss tourists want to tell me about their Labradors at home. Doormen call out as we walk by. It's a different city for us, communal, improbably humane even at moments ecstatic. This must go into the living poem of physical difference.

So too the damages and the ugliness. What I like to call the mercenary labeling of ableism. People with disabilities experience the crackling, unspoken diminishing glares of strangers. Until they are spoken. Then the day tilts like a bad amusement park ride. This must also go into the living poem of physical difference.

What the guide dog schools won’t tell you, or by turns, tell you imperfectly, is that guide dog teams will encounter public incomprehension and outright discrimination as they walk around. In my case this discovery came 18 years agoin New York City when I tried to get into a cab and the driver began screaming expletives. Despite this I got into the car. His language and mine became an instant study in art for all the ingredients of creativity were present: tension, incomprehension, passion, and spontaneity.

 

Sitting stern as a tree in the backseat, I told him that the law permits guide dogs for the blind in all taxis–in fact guide dogs are allowed everywhere. Hell, I even had an ID card from the school with my picture and the dog’s picture and all the appropriate legalese. But the driver, my driver, did not believe in the bravery or happiness of others. He began revving his engine and revving up his shouting.

 

What can you do? My driver hated me and my dog and was refusing to budge. I was reciting the law. Oh the godforsaken wilderness of human rage. When you have a disability every moment of discrimination evokes all the others: you’re again the boy who was told he couldn’t play with others, couldn’t go to school with them, sat alone in a room. This must also go into the living poem of physical difference.

 

Then again, the shy, unanticipated joy: in Central Park a man says to me, "You can't tell, but I am the statue of liberty." "Me too," I say.

'Fug You': The Wild Life Of Ed Sanders

You just gotta love Ed Sanders! 

I found the following story on the NPR iPad App:

'Fug You': The Wild Life Of Ed Sanders
by Jon Kalish
NPR – May 5, 2012
Ed Sanders likes to refer to himself as the only beatnik who can yodel. A countercultural icon, he co-founded the raunchy, avant-garde rock band The Fugs and was instrumental in the Youth International Party — commonly called the Yippies.
The 72-year-old is also a classical scholar who wrote a best-selling book about the Manson family. His latest book is a memoir, Fug You, about life on New York's Lower East Side in the 1960s — a slum, back when Sanders lived there.
"It didn't take much money to live," Claudia Dreifus recalls. "You could live poor, you could have a lot of fun. People didn't need a lot of stuff. And when rents were cheap, all kinds of creative forces ended up here."
Dreifus is now a science writer for The New York Times, but she cut her teeth at a counterculture newspaper called The East Village Other. She calls Sanders, who was a neighborhood fixture and fellow writer at The Other, a hero.
"That word is used loosely and stupidly these days," she says, "but he really was. He showed us how to be free … by showing us there was a way to say what you wanted to say."
Sanders put out a literary journal with a pretty unprintable title. He hand-cranked it on a now archaic bit of technology called a mimeograph machine.
"I did everything myself," he says. "I drew all the stencils, I made … what I called glyphs, which were based on Egyptian hieroglyphs, and I carried on a big correspondence with writers to get manuscripts. And it just seemed like turning that handle was
a kind of religious experience. I don't know, it seemed to work. I put out all these magazines that I gave away free."
He gave them to writers and artists, some of whom would soon gain fame in the underground comic book scene. And he opened the Peace Eye bookstore, near Tompkins Square Park, where he recalls The Fugs drawing crowds of thousands to free concerts.
"The bookstore became pretty famous. It was the stopping off point for all visiting librarians and professors because I had a lot of well-known writers hanging out there — William Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg," Sanders says.
In his memoir, Sanders refers to the Lower East Side as a "little zone of revolution." He and several other founders of the Yippies lived there, and played key roles in the anti-war movement's "exorcism" of the Pentagon and the protests at the 1968 Democratic
Convention in Chicago.
Sanders says much of the political and cultural activity of the era was fomented on the Lower East Side. In addition to political activists, writers and artists, the neighborhood was full of musicians like Peter Stampfel, a member of both The Fugs and The
Holy Modal Rounders.
"The main thing about the scene back then was that there was this amazing feeling that something wonderful and amazing was going to happen inevitably," Stampfel says.
But the '60s faded into the '70s, and Sanders disbanded The Fugs. He went on to write The Family, about the Manson family, and release a solo record. He also decided to leave the Lower East Side.
"We saw a couple of people murdered in the streets outside of our house," Sanders says. It was time to go.
Eventually Sanders landed in Woodstock, in upstate New York. His modest house is crammed with books, tapes and his wife Miriam's mineral collection. A two-car garage that once served as his writing studio is now packed floor to ceiling with banker's boxes
full of files and photographs; Sanders jokes about appearing on a reality show about hoarders.
Among the collections is Sanders' archive devoted to The Fugs. He takes out a leaflet for one of the band's shows, advertising a 1965 extravaganza called "A Night of Napalm." Sanders describes it as "songs against the war, rock 'n roll bomb shrieks, heavy
metal orgasms. Watch all The Fugs die in a napalm raid."
He's received offers for the archive from several major universities, but for the time being, he's going to hold on to what is clearly a valuable record of a pivotal chapter in American history. "It was just a very fervent, fermenting era," Sanders says.
"The surge of creativity and movies and dance and theater and poetry and literature was too big to stop."
And Ed Sanders was right at the heart of it. [Copyright 2012 National Public Radio]
To learn more about the NPR iPad app, go to

Stephen Kuusisto 

Director

The Renee Crown University Honors Program 

University Professor

Syracuse University

Kudos to NPR on the Subject of Chen Guancheng's Blindness

Thanks to Alan Greenblatt of NPR for writing today about the issue of Chen Guancheng's blindness and the overtly dynamic positioning of the "b" word in the press coverage of the Chinese dissident. Greenblatt's piece, entitled "A Factor in a Much Larger Life: Debating Chen Guancheng's Blindness" does a nice job of arguing that people with disabilities are not, in fact defined by those disabilities, and I'm glad to have been asked for some comments on the subject. Kudos to the folks at NPR for bucking the media's fixation on the blindness as a determinant symbol of what is indeed a much larger life.  

Students Accused Of Sodomizing Deaf Boy On School Bus With Driver Present

I'm speechless.

Stephen Kuusisto
Director
The Renee Crown University Honors Program
University Professor
Syracuse University

Student Sues University For Discriminating Against Her And Service Dog

 

(The Oregonian)
April 30, 2012

PORTLAND, OREGON– [Excerpt provided by Inclusion Daily Express] A deaf student and the Fair Housing Council of Oregon are suing Portland State University for more than $1 million claiming that the university has repeatedly discriminated against students with disabilities.

Student Cindy Leland claims that in fall 2010 university housing employees refused to let her and her service dog live in Stephen Epler Hall because it was carpeted. She and her dog instead were allowed to move into another university building, The Broadway, which does not have carpets.

She alleges she was routinely harassed — she believes because of her disability — with knocks on the door at night. Her dog had been trained to alert her to the knocks, and Leland would get up to discover no one at her door. She ended up sleeping only a few hours a night during finals week. After officials declined her request to install a security camera and the knocks grew more frequent, she moved out.

The suit states that the Fair Housing Council was aware of at least two other students who had service animals and encountered housing problems. The university threatened to evict one of them unless she removed her service animal, and the student filed suit in 2011, according to Leland’s complaint.

Entire article:
Deaf student sues, claiming Portland State University didn’t allow her service dog in some housing

http://tinyurl.com/ide0501124a

Rain at the Edge of Sight

I am in Manhattan where it is raining hard. In a few short minutes I will harness my guide dig and we will walk to Central Park. I can hear thunder out there.

The cool thing is that with a guide dog you’re out in all kinds of weather. We will get soaked but we will be smelling the greening of things and hearing the sizzle of wheels and there will be opportunities to be awake even on a wet day and wakefulness is never to be wasted. So says my dog, so say I!