It Matters What We Call One Another

In an article in the New Republic by Jonathan Cohn entitled "The Two Year Window" the following paragraph caught my eye:

"Nelson had traveled to Romania to take part in a cutting-edge experiment. It was ten years after the fall of the Communist dictator Nicolae Ceaucescu, whose scheme for increasing the country's population through bans on birth control and abortion had filled state-run institutions with children their parents couldn't support. Images from the orphanages had prompted an outpouring of international aid and a rush from parents around the world to adopt the children. But ten years later, the new government remained convinced that the institutions were a good idea and was still warehousing at least 60,000 kids, some of them born after the old regime's fall, in facilities where many received almost no meaningful human interaction. With backing from the MacArthur Foundation, and help from a sympathetic Romanian official, Nelson and colleagues from Harvard, Tulane, and the University of Maryland prevailed upon the government to allow them to remove some of the children from the orphanages and place them with foster families. Then, the researchers would observe how they fared over time in comparison with the children still in the orphanages. They would also track a third set of children, who were with their original parents, as a control group."

We are living in the global age of warehoused and neglected children–from the refugee camps of the middle east to Africa to the juvee halls of the United States, children are being held and poorly housed in conditions that would make Charles Dickens throw up. Yes, it matters what you call them. How about calling them an "underserved population" as the University of Washington's institute on medical ethics proposes?

Accordingly the underserved are "individuals or populations who are disadvantaged because of inability to pay, lack of access to comprehensive health care, or other disparities for reasons of race, religion, language group, or social status." 

At the website of the School for Life, Romania and the Scoala Pentru Viata, you can read the following: 

"We are based in the town of Siret in northern Romania on the border of Ukraine in the county of Suceava. It is an area of high unemployment with a diverse ethnic community, and a population of approx. 9,300. School For Life work with orphaned young adults, who previously lived in the neuropsychiatric hospital for 510 children in Siret, at its height in 1984 housing 1310 children.
Due to their childhood experiences of privation, neglect and abuse, lack of parental nurturing, inadequate nutrition and stimulation many have developed severe developmental deficits and delays. Many failed to thrive in these conditions inhibiting their healthy development and ability to communicate, socialise and survive outside of institution life in the wider community. The majority will now need support for the rest of their lives.

120 of these now young adults are living in an adult psychiatric hospital in Siret. School For Life and Scoala Pentru Viata aim to support these young adults by providing new experiences and opportunities, in their relations with others and in their wider environment. This is through special needs education / activity, trips in the community, life skill and employment support and supported housing."

Or this:

"I love my work here, teaching the lads and working around the house. I love teaching them sport and how to look after animals, and the colour games and how to draw. I am very happy to help the students from the hospital, they are just like me, there is very little difference. I feel confident about the future and what I'm doing and feel that I'll be able to do whatever I choose to."Lenuta, aged 26

"I like the girls and enjoy talking with them and helping them. If they are unable to come one day they will stay in their rooms and cry. I am teaching myself to look after myself. I have taught the students how to look after the garden and they love it… when they grow up they will have their own house and will need to look after themselves. I like everything here, I can't lie, I like it all!"Rodika, aged 25

"Lenuta and Rodika both grew up in the neuropsychiatric hospital for 510 children in Siret. They now live in School For Life supported housing and work as teaching assistants at the school."

Dr. Charles Nelson's work (the subject of the New Republic piece referenced above) has promoted the idea that foster care is not only possible but preferable–an idea we take for granted in the U.S. but which until recently has been all too often dismissed among Romanians. You can learn more about his work here.

Football Follies

 My stepson Ross is an avowed NY Giants fan and I’m a diehard Patriots zealot and our day is going to be rough. The fun thing is that we’re both busy imagining the ways our respective teams may lose– which is of course the preferred position of the true fan (who remembers with galling exactitude every miserable setback he’s ever witnessed, the fumbles, missed kicks, interceptions, O god it’s a nearly endless and cruel trick of memory we endure). 

We are trying to imagine ways that we can be kind to each other. This is a sweet inter-personal delusion that we will maintain up til game time and then, well, it will be blood and feathers I’m afraid. 

Years ago, when I was a college student I went to a bar in Geneva, NY, and it was early afternoon and a man walked in and put a paper sack on the bar and said: “Frank was one helluva a cock!”  

He then pulled out old Frank!s legs, still tufted with ragged feathers and he stood them on the bar. 

Alas, one of us is going to stand the old legs on the bar when it’s all over. 

“Yep,” he said. “Frank was one helluva chicken!”

Go Patriots! 

 NCOA: House Vote To Repeal CLASS Shows Congress Is Out Of Touch

(National Council on Aging)
February 2, 2012

WASHINGTON, DC– [Excerpt provided by Inclusion Daily Express)] The U.S. House of Representatives voted today to repeal the CLASS program, without offering any alternative to address the growing long-term care crisis among middle-class Americans.

CLASS, or the Community Living Assistance Services and Supports program is a voluntary, fiscally responsible, long-term care insurance program that would help address the serious, growing long-term care needs of seniors, individuals with disabilities, caregivers, and families. CLASS was signed into law as part of the health reform Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act.

Millions of Americans are faced with a broken system that requires them to spend down their life savings into poverty before receiving needed long-term coverage, forces them prematurely into expensive nursing homes, and imposes enormous financial, emotional, and physical burdens on family caregivers, particularly women. The urgency to address these issues is growing, as almost 10,000 baby boomers turn 65 every day, and the fastest-growing segment of our population — those over age 85 — have the greatest need for these services.

For over two decades, Congress debated how to address long-term care before passing the CLASS Act last year. CLASS would encourage personal responsibility by providing a cash benefit to people needing care at home through voluntary premiums and, according to the Congressional Budget Office (CBO), would save Medicaid dollars.

Entire article:
House Vote to Repeal CLASS Shows Congress is Out of Touch with the Struggles of Middle-Class Americans
http://tinyurl.com/ide0202121a
Related:
Rep. Dennis Kucinich: “Protecting Our Seniors Should Be Our First Priority” (Huffington Post)
http://tinyurl.com/ide0202121b
Sen. Jay Rockefeller: “CLASS Act repeal would help no one” (Politico)
http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0212/72343.html
CLASS Act (FactCheck.org)
http://www.factcheck.org/2010/06/class-act/

Santorum Tells Sick Kid Not To Complain About $1 Million Drug Costs Because People Pay $900 For An iPad

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

Essay: Walking with Miss Nira

 We circle the neighborhood, mid winter, withered leaves madcap, flying around the gutters. We hear the old ocean. Mine is just a sea journey comprising sacrifices and tears at the gangway. But Nira, a yellow Labrador hears from afar an invitation to rise up on her hind legs and dance the canine horn pipe. The leaves and black trees re-enter their stillness once we’ve passed by. And the blue ocean is steady, waiting.