stevekuusisto

My Birthday Wish: People with Disabilities Have the Right Communities

Today is my birthday. I am 57 years old. When I was born I weighed 2 lbs. My twin brother William lived for only one day. In a sense, I am a walking advertisement for ethical medicine.

According to the great Princeton blowhard Peter Singer my parents ought to have aborted me: after all, my life would be hard. That would certainly have been a compelling position in the mid 1950’s when blind children weren’t accepted into public education or the public square for that matter. But here I am. All because some doctors decided I was worth saving.

Now I’m not going to sentimentalize my life, not going to argue that I have more to give back to society because I wasn’t shoved into a shoebox and dumped in the woods. I won’t say that disability isn’t hard. But I will say that able bodied utilitarian philosophers who don’t understand technology or its place in human evolution can’t talk knowledgeably about the value of life. We are capable and strong–all of us but all the more so when you have a disability and the right people in your community.

I get to make a birthday wish. I wish you the right people in your community.

Thank You Alex Schadenberg

Alex Schadenberg: Television Program Wrongly Portrays Latimer, Others In Positive Light
(LifeSiteNews/Euthanasia Prevention Coalition)
March 23, 2012

LONDON, ONTARIO– [Excerpt provided by Inclusion Daily Express] I was shocked by the eugenic one-sided pro-euthanasia program that was aired by Global television last Saturday (March 17, 2012) night at 7 pm. The "16 x 9" program entitled: Taking Mercy featured Robert Latimer, Annette Corriveau, and pro-euthanasia ethicist Arthur Schaefer.

Latimer was convicted of second degree murder in the 1993 death of his daughter Tracy, and served 10 years in prison. When interviewed, Latimer suggested that he would do it again. Tracy lived with cerebral palsy.

The "16 x 9" story omits significant facts in its attempt to sympathetically re-write the history of the Latimer case. Latimer was offered a permanent care space for Tracy, but turned the offer down because he had already decided to kill her. The show ignores the fact that Tracy went to school, loved music, and was well aware of her surroundings. The show omitted the fact that the Supreme Court of Canada unanimously decided that Latimer should serve the mandatory minimum sentence of 10 years in jail for second degree murder.

The story of Annette Corriveau, the mother of two adult children Janet and Jeffrey who have significant disabilities, was also featured. Corriveau wants her adult children with disabilities euthanized. Janet and Jeffery appear to be well-cared for by the institution that they permanently reside in. It was disconcerting to watch a programme where a mother was vocally advocating to have her children's lives ended.

Has our society forgotten its history? Have we forgotten how eugenic attitudes led to the destruction of the lives of thousands of people with disabilities?

Entire article:
Alex Schadenberg: Global Television airs eugenic euthanasia 16 x 9 TV program
http://tinyurl.com/ide0323121a
Related:
Euthanasia Prevention Coalition
http://www.epcc.ca/
Tracy Latimer's Death: Mercy or Murder? (Inclusion Daily Express Archives)
http://www.inclusiondaily.com/news/crime/latimer.htm
T-4 Euthanasia Program (United States Holocaust Memorial Museum)
http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/article.php?ModuleId=10005200

Vigil at Syracuse University for ASAN

PRESS RELEASE – PLEASE DISTRIBUTE FAR AND WIDE!

Dear friends, allies, and coworkers in the Syracuse community,

On Friday, March 30th, the Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) is organizing a series of candlelight vigils nationwide to honor the memories of disabled individuals who have been murdered by their caregivers and family members. On March 6, 2012, George Hodgins, a 22-year-old Autistic man, was killed by his mother, who subsequently took her own life.

Please join us at Syracuse University this Friday to remember the victims of these horrible crimes, and to protest the devaluation of disabled people's lives.

The program will consist of a moment of silence, followed by a reading of the names of victims who were killed throughout the years. The group assembled will then participate in the singing of "Lead On," written by the late disabled activist Justin Dart. Vigil participants will then be invited to discuss their feelings and perspectives.

Please review: http://autisticadvocacy.org/2012/03/take-action-help-us-mourn-murders-of-disabled-people/ for ASAN's press release on George Hodgins' murder.

What: Candlelight vigil to honor the memories of disabled people murdered by caregivers and family members

When: Friday, March 30th, 2012, at 7:00 p.m.

Where: The Orange Grove, on the Syracuse University Quad. (Rain location: Kittredge Auditorium, in the Huntington Beard Crouse building.)

Candles will be provided. Because of university and city regulations, please do not bring your own candles.

American Sign Language interpretation will be provided.

The Counseling Center (443-4715), Hendricks Chapel (443-2901) and the Faculty and Staff Assistance Program (443-1087) are available on campus to any Syracuse University community members needing additional support.

Self Care

By Andrea Scarpino

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” ~Audre Lorde

Because we’re taught, aren’t we, to push ahead no matter what—no matter how exhausted, get to work on time, eat through lunch hurriedly while continuing to work at your desk, don’t complain. No matter how exhausted, pull your weight, don’t let anyone know you need a break. We’re taught that self-care is weak or hooey or something crazy health addicts do.

I have been praised my whole life for being hardworking. In my family, my brother is the “smart one” while I am the one who “works hard.” I had a 4.0 GPA in college—and made myself physically sick trying to maintain it: bronchitis, cold after cold, a litany of stomach complains. I worked through anything my body could throw at me, took it as a challenge. Because I have been a person with multiple disabilities, I felt I had no other choice—work harder than the next person who was naturally smarter or healthier or had never needed accommodations.

Two months ago, I wrote in my journal: “My body is failing me. I am failing my body.” I wasn’t sure if that was the truth, but it was definitely how I felt: failure. Constant pain. Exhaustion.

And then I started to shift my thinking. Because I could no longer fight my body—I wasn’t making any progress anyway—I decided to give the battle a rest. To step away from it. To think in terms of self-care, nourishment, accepting my body for what it has to give. For its faults. For its pain.

What does that mean? I began the Mayo Clinic’s course in attention and interpretation therapy—in mindfulness, basically. Every day brings a different theme, ideas like compassion, acceptance, gratitude, and forgiveness. Every day, I try to meditate—which is not easy for me. The first week, I set a timer for 5 minutes and spent half of my time telling myself not to peek at how much time was left. But this week? I’m able to sit quietly for 20 minutes, more or less.

And I dramatically overhauled what I had thought was my healthy vegetarian diet: no coffee, very little diary, very little alcohol, very few grains. Instead: more raw vegetables and fruits than I ever thought I could eat.

I know this sounds incredibly hooey, incredibly indulgent. Who has time to sit still for 20 minutes every day? Who has time to clean and prepare mounds of vegetables? What’s so wrong with coffee? I felt the same way—a course in mindfulness? Please. I have better things to do with my day. And my biggest fear? That I’d become so relaxed and calm, I’d just lie around all day, never accomplishing anything. I equated stress with production, success, accomplishment—that’s worked, in a sense, since college.

And yet, one month into these changes, I feel better than I have in as long as I can remember. I haven’t had pain, my skin glows, I have more energy. And I feel more focused when doing work: I’m able to focus my mind when it’s racing, when I’m creating mental drama that doesn’t need to exist, when I’m obsessing over conversations and past situations that I’d be better served just letting go. And I can stop it, can slow down. I can step away from my anxiety.

This is a deeply political act, refusing to participate in overwork, in self-punishment, in a culture that values stress and extremes of behavior no matter the personal cost, refusing to be at war with the body no matter what it brings on any given day. In learning how to care for myself, in learning self-preservation, in learning that I can work hard and with kindness, I finally feel a shift in my health. I finally feel like my body’s not failing me.

Poet and essayist Andrea Scarpino is a frequent contributor to POTB. Check out her poetry reading at Bluestocking Books in NYC:

http://www.andreascarpino.com/Writing/Writing.html

Dickey reveals childhood abuse in new memoir

Hi,

This is a brave book detailing childhood sexual abuse and it’s by a major league baseball star. R.A. Dickey is doing everyone a favor.

I thought you’d like this:

http://soc.li/QYi8QWg

Dickey reveals childhood abuse in new memoir
In a raw new memoir, Mets pitcher R.A. Dickey reveals that he was sexually abused as an eight-year-old, and later lived with so much anger and shame that he contemplated suicide just a few years before signing with the Mets.
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The New Hampshire Genius

My grandfather used to shoot porcupines, mostly because they kept him awake at night by climbing into the rocking chairs on the veranda and gently rocking–a charming thing save that the chairs squeaked and something like that can get on your nerves.

One evening he stalked a porcupine into a tool shed, took aim, and hit an old bean pot and the bullet ricocheted and struck him a glancing blow to the head–which is to say “his” head. It was, of course, just a flesh wound, and no great damage was done, particularly to the porcupine who got away.

The porcupine had his revenge by dying of old age in his hideout under the floor of the tool shed–a circumstance discernible only gradually, then magnificently, for nothing smells quite like a dead porcupine in summer. My grandfather slowly and methodically pried up the floorboards while wearing a kerosene soaked rag over his nose. And of course with his scalp still bandaged from the bullet wound he looked like Boris Karloff in “The Mummy” but no one told him this for his ire was inflamed and we actually feared he might blow up the tool shed for he had a great affection for dynamite.

This is what one can generically call a true story. And starved for air, bilious with temper, chagrined at the autobiographical spectacle, my grandfather pried up board after board in the terrible shed, sweating and cursing. His mistake was to pry the boards in sequence. The damned thing was under the last board. And we, which is to say we of the man’s family thought this was particularly funny. That was my first lesson in the comedy of ill tempered method. Not long after, my grandfather blew up an outhouse, and that was my second lesson in the comedy of method. I will say this: the man had many methods. And he was a kind of New Hampshire genius. And nowadays it all seems so long ago…

Article: Trayvon Martin, a victim in the NRA's culture war

Trayvon Martin, a victim in the NRA's culture war

http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2012/03/201232774457418674.html

(Sent from Flipboard)

Stephen Kuusisto

Director

The Renee Crown University Honors Program

University Professor

Syracuse University

Trayvon Martin: A Disability Perspective

I know something about being “marked” as disability is always a performance. I am on the street in a conditional way: allowed or not allowed, accepted or not accepted according to the prejudices and educational attainments of others. And because I’ve been disabled since childhood I’ve lived with this dance of provisional life ever since I was small. In effect, if you have a disability, every neighborhood is a gated community.

Last week the Rev. Al Sharpton counseled Trayvon’s parents that the engines of disparagement would start soon–that Trayvon’s character would be run through the gutter. He was right. And he was properly forecasting what happens whenever a member of a historically marginalized community speaks up for “blaming the victim” is a handy way of sidestepping issues of cultural responsibility. In a way, isn’t that what “gated communities” are all about? Aren’t they simply the architectural result of cultural exceptionalism? Of course. But as a person who travels everywhere accompanied by a guide dog I know something about the architectures and the cultural languages of “the gate” –doormen, security officers, functionaries of all kinds have sized me up in the new “quasi public” spaces that constitute our contemporary town square. I too have been ovserved, followed, pointed at, and ultimately told I don’t belong by people who are ill informed and marginally empowered. Like Trayvon I am seldom in the right place. Where precisely would that place be? Would it be back in the institution for the blind, circa 1900? Would it be staying at home always?

Now the forces of revision are saying that Trayvon was a violent pot smoker. Forget that pot smokers are generally not violent and that the vast majority of teens in America have tried it–forget that it’s not a gateway drug. Forget that having been suspended from high school for minor marijuana possession isn’t an advertisement for criminal psychosis. (Didn’t we dismiss that stupid idea along with the film “Reefer Madness” some thirty years ago?) The reality here is that Trayvon is being predictably transformed from an ordinary kid into an aggressor. The evidence doesn’t support this. He was stalked and threatened and the efforts in recent days to recaste him as a crazed gangsta are predictible and laughable. But I’m not laughing. I too was an “outsider” teenager. My place in every social and public environment was always conditional. Hell, I even smoked marijuana as a form of self medication. I’m not ashamed of the kid I used to be. I’m not ashamed to count Trayvon Martin as my soul mate.

There’s a war against black men and boys in this country. There’s also a backlash against women and people with disabilities and the elderly. The forces in all these outrages are the same. The aim is to make all of the United States into a gated community. On the one side are the prisons and warehousing institutions; on the other side, the sanitized neighborhood resorts. I hear the voice: “Sorry, Sir, you can’t come in here.” In my case it’s always a security guard who doesn’t know a guide dog from an elephant. In Trayvon’s case it was a souped up self important member of a neighborhood watch who had no idea what a neighborhood really means. I think all people with disabilites know a great deal about this. I grieve for Trayvon’s family. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him and will never forget.

Essay: Spring Riddle

Some say a jar of water is bottomless because we can imagine it.

In the morning I feed the horse because he puts his face through the rusted gate.

In my imagination I am battlesinging though I can’t see my enemy–not today.

I call on the day to grow a heart, to see the bravery and happiness

Of people and animals. The day resists like hard vegetation–

Time is just undistinguished pages, that’s all,

& you’re better off listening to far off birds.

Not Dead Yet Responds to Quebec Assisted Suicide Panel

The report of the Quebec parliament’s commission on dying with dignity contains some positive measures as well as fatal flaws, according to Amy Hasbrouck, a resident of Valleyfield, Quebec and board chair of Not Dead Yet, an international disability rights organization opposed to the legalization of assisted suicide and euthanasia.

“They have addressed some important issues related to palliative care and advance directives,” said Hasbrouck. “The Commission has made an effort to respond to the needs of people near the end of life. Unfortunately the commission’s work is marred by a lack of precision and does not take disability discrimination and elder abuse into account. These factors, along with reliance on good faith and inadequate ‘safeguards,’ mean the Commission has failed elders and people with disabilities.”

See full article here.