Planet of the Blind

 

 

By Andrea Scarpino

Los Angeles

 

Los Angeles is on fire again. Through my thin apartment walls, I heard my neighbors scream and swear at each other. A dear friend of mine has recently been diagnosed with MS. Another had surgery this week and still another had surgery last week. I’m working more than I want to be, making half the pay that I should be making. I don’t feel that my work is appreciated, let alone understood. I’ve argued with friends over whether marriage is an oppressive institution, whether the health care debate is largely about white American racism. I’ve argued with my students. I’ve argued with my mother.

I’m frustrated by my writing, by poetry’s never ending subjective state. I’m frustrated by my hair. I miss my father, my childhood dog. I miss the weeping willow tree outside our home in Michigan, and the way lake water lapped at its roots. I’m tired of bad poetry readings and this country’s bizarre fear of socialism. I’m tired of people who don’t believe in our impending environmental catastrophe. I’m angry that every year, gun-toting Americans buy 30 bullets for every person (even children) who lives here. I guess so they can kill each one of us 30 times.

There are always good things, of course. Yesterday, I ate eggplant caviar and carrot cake. I ran nine miles, the longest I’ve run since I changed my stride to forefoot striking. I bought 12 glow sticks at Target for one dollar and turned off all the lights in my apartment to watch them glow. Today, I may read Proust. I may eat seaweed salad. I may sit quietly and breathe. There are always good things, of course. But right now, I’m tired of the fight.

At the end of “Song of Myself,” Walt Whitman writes, “I stop some where waiting for you.” On days like this when the blues creep into everything I do, I remember that line and it makes me believe everything will be fine after all. Even if the state burns to the ground, even if we never change our health care system, even if I never again get another poetry journal acceptance, even if. . . . There is Old Walt Whitman with his bushy white beard, maybe sitting under a tree, maybe with some apples in his hands to share.

 

Andrea Scarpino, poet, essayist, community activist, editor, teacher, friend of philosophers and animals lives in Los Angeles and is the West Coast Bureau Chief of POTB. You can visit her at:

www.andreascarpino.com

To say I have deserted my post, couldn’t hold it…

All day trucks go by emitting fumes of dollars and social terror,

Who gets health benefits, who does not…

University professor-colleagues with the vaguest of politics…

Early A.M. carried a bird on my finger in the dark yard…

Remember over coffee, Ed Sanders smuggled poem out of jail in his shoe…

Remember on bus, Peacenik cripples frisked because they came home from Viet Nam…

Feeling like a living being…

Remember Allen Ginsberg saying: the world has a beautiful soul…

The nation is unwell. Let us prescribe raging iambics…

 

S.K. (in office at state U, awaiting students…)

I must catch a bus in just a few moments. One wonders about the community of Columbia, Tennessee and about the training of Ms. Tasha Walker. One wonders how these stories keep coming. Shame on Columbia, Tennessee. Shame, shame…

 

S.K.

 

Excerpt from The Inclusion Daily Express:

Mom Says Educators Stripped, Locked Up 9-Year-Old Son
(The Daily Herald)
September 22, 2009
COLUMBIA, TENNESSEE– [Excerpt] Maury County judge has issued an emergency injunction against educators at Joseph Brown Elementary School after a developmentally disabled student was allegedly stripped down to his underwear and locked in a seclusion room.

“I don’t want this ever to happen to another child,” said Spring Hill resident Michelle Parks, mother of the 9-year-old boy. “My child’s rights have been stripped from him.”

Parks alleges she was called to the school Tuesday to pick up her son after he had acted out in his special education class taught by Tasha Walker.

After the mother got to the school, Parks said she was led to a door with a small window. When the door was opened she saw her son standing and crying in the middle of the room wearing only his underwear.

She said the first image that came to her mind was a jail cell.

“It’s just nothing that you should be put in,” she said, while fighting back tears. “I guess if he had committed a crime or if he had been locked up in jail, but emotionally it’s not good for a 9-year-old child.”

Entire article:
Mom: School officials stripped, locked up son
http://www.inclusiondaily.com/news/2009/red/0922d.htm

There is regular time and then there is disability time. Some people have known them both in a single life. Others marry into knowing the difference or they have children and in turn must learn about the matter. However you get there once you’ve felt the distinction you’re never the same.

Regular time is causality or the illusion of causality. The story of a human life can be told in terms of an equation: A, A1, B,C,D, unto E. Where E equals a wise old woman and A is the moment of her birth. A sequence of events produced E. E is summary. We all know this story–art and literature depend upon causality and its proprioceptive incorporation of time. A life well spent is a planned life. An hour is a planned hour. If causality had a saint it would be Benjamin Franklin.

Disability time is without observable connections. For the sake of argument I’ll say that disability time is like Carl Jung’s idea of synchronicity. There’s a chance aspect to events. We call this “coincidence” and yet Jung saw that the ancient Chinese were able to understand how chance events offer meanings to each and every moment of observation. In his famous introduction to the I Ching Jung wrote:

  

“The manner in which the I Ching tends to look upon reality seems to disfavour our causalistic procedures. The moment under actual observation appears to the ancient Chinese view more of a chance hit than a clearly defined result of causal chain processes. The matter of interest seems to be the configuration formed by chance events in the moment of observation…synchronicity takes the coincidence of events in space and time as meaning something more than mere chance, namely, a peculiar interdependence of objective events among themselves as well as with the subjective (psychic) states of the observer or observers.”

You are here now. You did not plan to arrive here. Nothing you did or did not do has created this instant. What you will “do” with this instant is in turn the process by which meaning will be discovered.

This is disability time. You can’t put it on a calendar. It can’t be scheduled for scrutiny or convenience. It will manifest itself with all its manifold meanings in the chance operations of nature and that’s that. Early to bed, early to rise–nah, it won’t save you. “Kairos” was a winged god whose name meant “Lucky Coincidence” to the Greeks. And the Greeks understood that when Kairos appeared you had better grab ahold of him quickly. This quickness is what makes people with disabilities so successful. For while the blind goddess Fortuna may drag a good person into the underworld without a second’s meditation, lucky coincidence is just as prevalent in the many worlds around us.

This is a short meditation on disability and success.

 

S.K. 

The following comes to us from The Inclusion Daily Express. I think it requires little by way of editorial preface save to say that I wonder what Mr. Fleming was having for lunch?

 

S.K.

 

Caregiver Arrested For Lunching While Three Sat In Hot Locked Car
(Frederick News-Post)
September 21, 2009
FREDERICK, MARYLAND– [Excerpt] Frederick police arrested a man on suspicion of leaving three blind and deaf adults locked in a car while he ate at the Mountain View Diner on Sunday.

Officers arrested Brian T. Fleming, 47, of Fairfield, Pa., after they arrived at the diner on West Patrick Street.

Patrons at the diner called police to report three mentally challenged people were left locked in a parked vehicle with the windows almost rolled up and in direct sunlight, police said.

Police said the adults inside the vehicle appeared to be hot and in distress, so they called an ambulance to provide care. Officers were able to open the car door so heat inside could escape.

Entire article:
Caretaker locked 3 blind, deaf adults in car while he ate, police said
http://www.inclusiondaily.com/news/2009/red/0921c.htm

The following excerpted article and associated links come to us from The Inclusion Daily Express. A long time ago and in a valley far far away I wrote an op-ed piece for the New York Times in which I ventured the altogether optimistic view that Governor David Paterson would bring interesting and unique skills to the Governor’s office because of his lifelong personal experience with blindness. When I wrote that essay I was imagining that David Paterson had the kind of blind skills that the most successful blind people possess. I have had the good fortune to meet blind folks who are attorneys, professors, financial analysts, entrepreneurs, artists, administrators in government and industry, in short, people who have what it takes to be fabulously successful just like sighted people who have ambition and brains. 

Unfortunately when I wrote my Times piece I was guilty of projection. I was imagining that David Paterson was a good listener and frankly I also imagined that he had the kind of technology skills that are de rigueur for successful blind professionals. Talking computers, hand held digital note takers, talking pda devices, digital readers and scanners come to mind–the digital age makes it possible for the blind to keep complete track of information and to access it instantly. Yet Governor Paterson relies on a tape recorder and on sighted assistants who remind him what he needs to know. “What’s the difference?” you might ask? “Isn’t information just information, no matter how the Governor receives it?” Well, no. The ability to use cutting edge technology also represents a serious investment in being part of a community of people with disabilities–which talking pc software do I want? How and when do I upgrade that system? What’s the best way for me to make Microsoft Outlook work on my talking pda? How do I find passages in a digital text instantly while I’m talking to an audience? Answering these questions requires knowing other blind people and in turn knowing something about the arc of blindness success–by this I mean the ways and means to success. And by turns this also suggests a belief in community. I think Gov. Paterson has an insular and outdated “blind world” and while this can’t entirely explain why he’s ineffective as a politician it does explain why he’s a poor manager of his time and why he’s intellectually impervious to the civil rights problems that people with disabilities all too often experience. See below. Meantime I’m eating my hat. And for another take on Paterson from a disability perspective take a look at this terrific post over at “Bad Cripple”: http://badcripple.blogspot.com/2009/09/david-paterson-and-price-of-access.html 

S.K.

 

Governor’s Vetoes Outrage Disability Advocates
(WIVT)
September 18, 2009
ALBANY, NEW YORK– [Excerpt] New Yorkers with disabilities were stunned last night when Governor Paterson vetoed not one, but two critical pieces of civil rights legislation. Both bills were passed overwhelmingly by the state legislature, and would require state law to conform with existing federal requirements under the Americans with Disabilities Act and the Help America Vote Act.

In response, disability advocates are calling on the state legislature to override the Governor’s vetoes and ensure people with disabilities in New York are treated as fairly in New York State as they are under existing federal law.

“By vetoing these bills, the Governor is denying millions of people with disabilities fundamental civil rights,” said Melanie Shaw, executive director of the New York Association on Independent Living.

“We are appalled that that the Governor would veto two civil rights bills passed by a proportion of the Legislature sufficient to override a veto, bills that simply write existing federal rights into state law for clarification and enforcement.”

“It is unconscionable and highly ironic that a governor with a disability has vetoed these bills. We are very disappointed that, by these actions, he has failed to offer the leadership we hoped he would bring to the governor’s office,” said Christine Zachmeyer, NYAIL board member and chair of the New York State Independent Living Council.

Entire article:
Governor’s Vetoes Outrage Disability Advocates
http://www.inclusiondaily.com/news/2009/red/0918d.htm

 

Conventional wisdom says that people are funnier or need humor more when times are dark. This is a great idea and yet like so many ideas it cannot be proved. Theorizing about the comic impulse is like trying to figure out which came first: Moses or monotheism. (I think Moses came first since he saw he had an opportunity to move the theosophical furniture around while everyone else was looking for a decent cup of coffee and a bunch of lost goats.)

When I was a child and living in small town New Hampshire there was a family we knew who had somehow taken it into their heads that they could become acrobats together and land a spot on a famous national TV show. They would all stand on their heads and walk around on their hands. Their act never got anywhere but they looked splendidly alert and sweetly philosophical as they staggered about on their hands, their faces gone beat red, the father of the tribe sputtering orders while trying to maintain his contra-natural position, dimes falling from his pockets. In those days a dime would buy you a gallon of gasoline so losing change for the sake of art was no small matter. This of course isn’t the point. Those people were unintentionally funny and some of us knew it.

Lately as I’ve surveyed American TV comedy–both the sitcoms and the evening standup-variety shows I’ve gotten this odd feeling that the unintentionally funny aspects of comedy are missing. I wish to hell we had something more like Ernie Kovacs. God save us from Conan O’Brien and more of Leno. But now I’m back to monotheism. What happened to those goats? Where did Moses go? He said he was coming back with the coffee. Hey have you noticed that Moses hasn’t been himself lately? He keeps talking to the sun. Really. Just walks in circles and talks to the sun. Yeah, the kids hide in the bushes and watch. They shake the leaves and talk to him. Really.

 

S.K.

 

By Laura Castle

 

So many myths, both sad and dangerous surround the topic of child abuse. As a survivor, I would like to discuss some of them and the harm they can do.

Myth 1. Battered children almost always become abusive parents, or end up in prison for violent crimes. In truth, a small number of us are in prison and some of us do become violent, abusive parents. But, nowhere near as many as the folklore would have us believe.

Excessive withdrawal and timidity is considered by counselors who work with survivors to be a much more common result of severe child abuse, especially among female survivors. And, many of us make a deliberate choice to end the cycle of child abuse through either non-parenthood or by learning to be the best parents we can be.

Myth 2 (This is the reverse of myth 1). Physical discipline is good for a child. It builds character. In the South, where I live, the Biblical words, “Spare the rod, spoil the child” are used to excuse cruelty by far too many parents.

In truth, it is much more likely to cause depression, chronic anxiety, social withdrawal, and, in a small number of cases, extreme hostility.

Myth 3. Child abuse always looks the same. It is always easy to tell when a child is being mistreated.

In truth, there are many kinds of child abuse. The major categories are physical, sexual, emotional, and neglectful. Physical abuse is often easy to identify as belt-beatings, punching, kicking, and biting can leave marks. But the marks are sometimes hidden and some parents know how to beat up a child without leaving visible marks. Neglect can also be easy to identify in a child who comes to school dirty in the same clothes as yesterday and brings no lunch. Emotional and sexual child abuse can be harder to recognize. We may have no way to know that a small, vulnerable human being is being told he or she is no good or stupid, or that a child is being exploited sexually.

Myth 4 Battered children deserve it. They are beaten because they did something wrong and it must have been really bad to result in such severe punishment.

In truth, the punishment is often completely out of proportion to the misdeed in physically abusive homes. Truly bad behavior may be ignored, while an innocent mistake results in a severe beating. Whenever a child is told a beating took place because “she is a bad girl” or “he is a bad boy”, a second crime is committed against that child. No child deserves a beating for any reason ever. Yes, children are difficlut to raise and that is why they need loving, intelligent care.

Myth 5. Child abuse victims need to get over it and stop feeling sorry for ourselves.

In truth, many of us are trying very hard to get beyond the pain and hurt with varying degrees of success. Many of us have been able to tap into a place of strength and confidence with the knowledge that we can face just about anything. And those of use who were lucky enough to receive kindness from other adults as our parents brutalized us, may grow up believing that the human race is basically good and we want to add to that goodness with our lives. But it can be a slow process and for many of us the healing will take a lifetime.

Myth 6  It is none of my business if someone mistreats a child. This is by far the most dangerous myth about child abuse. It absolutely is your business if you suspect that a child is being harmed physically, sexually, emotionallly, or neglectfully and I urge you to take action. When you call your state’s abuse hotline or the local police to report suspected child abuse anonymity is guaranteed. Please do not be afraid if there is something you need to report.

In closing, I send  a heartfelt thanks to all of you who took the time to read this. It is very hard to read about child abuse and I am thankful that you did not turn away, but stayed and read my words. Thank you!

 

Laura Castle is a survivor of profound childhood violence and an advocate for children and adult survivors of abuse.

 

 

Yesterday I proposed that I would eat John Boehner, the minority leader of the U.S. House of Representatives. This was fatuous and silly of me because of course the whole business of eating human beings is a hackneyed literary theme ever since Montaigne and Swift and besides, who wants to read about a small town literature professor in the American midwest who thinks that figurative digestion is a fit way to handle authentic political disagreements? Silly. And my friends would probably say this conceit is beneath me. But let’s suppose I really WAS going to eat John Boehner? What’s to be done as viand, by way of preparation? 

Like a squid spouting ink Mr. Boehner spurts the word “socialism” at every turn. And like squid ink it does him some good for indeed he vanishes from the world of engagement for a few crucial minutes each time he “lets fly” as they say in the vernacular. True socialism is not in the cards for America even if we adopted Mr. Obama’s health care reforms wholesale like the whale that ate Jonah, and by the way, Jonah was not a socialist either, though he heard voices and could talk to the nether parts of animals which probably made him an anthroposophist which means that he would favor art and architecture that was good for people and I’m certain that Mr. Boehner would smell a conspiracy around that theme for “universal design” might have something to do with socialism–Uh Oh! There goes the squid ink! Poor Boehner, he can’t control his squid glands.

Getting the ink out of a squid is a matter of boiling. Did you know that boiling water is a socialist trick? The water company and the plumbing lines and the gas company are all subsidized by the government–EVEN WHEN they are registered as private companies! Yep! The government works to assure that poor people can boil water in the United States! Uh Oh! There goes the squid ink!

Once we get the socialist conspiracy ink out of Old Boehner we can think more broadly about how to season the man.

I pity John Boehner because when he says “socialism” he really means “solecism” and what with all the ink in his mouth its too hard to say. Kids in grade school who swallow paste often have this difficulty. That of course is a different subject and entirely for another day.

 

S.K.

 

A friend of mine (who is an Episcopal Priest) once said: “The only thing better than a dancing Jesus is an edible Jesus.” This put me in mind of the spirit and flesh of sacrifice and then it hit me: I should eat right wing politicians. This idea caused me some further amusement for I promptly imagined the vast quantities of Tartar sauce I would need. I ate Joe Wilson in a recent post entitled “Dear Rep. Wilson” and the man was such a lightweight he went right down my gullet. He required no tonic or sauces. As soon as I put him in my mouth he was all separate particles. He went down smooth. But eating Chuck Grassley or John Boehner or Jeff Sessions–that’s going to call for some serious Tartar sauce and maybe some Adolph’s meat tenderizer. Yes my friends, the City on the Hill will soon be slick with comestibles. Yum!

The first thing to do if you want to eat a right winger is to remove what’s called “the poop shoot” (those of you who have eaten crayfish know how crucial this is) and like a true Republican I will arrange to have a subcontractor take care of this business. (Blackwater can do it, I’m sure of it.)

If “might makes right” you can imagine how long their poop chutes will be. Studies have shown that right wingers have inestimable alimentary outlets. No one knows about this better than Joe Lieberman whose toilet is high as an ocean liner and had many steps to its summit. But enough of these mechanics.    

Stay tuned. I propose in my next post to eat John Boehner.

 

S.K.