Pass the brie

I sometimes get emails after I write a post about my life prior to acquiring quadriplegia asking what it's doing on my blog. "It's got nothing to do with disability," the person says. "Not sure why you put it up there."

Asking me to deny the years of my life prior to acquiring my disability, however, seems to me to be just as silly as those who expect me never to refer to living with a disability in conversations. Those who do this really don't understand that my life is woven with experiences from all the years I've lived. It's not an either or to me.

I write about my experience of living with quadriplegia, how it's taught me perseverance and resourcefulness, about my strengths and weaknesses, about forgiveness, trust and gratitude, how it's made me laugh and cry and deepened my faith in myself, others and God.

But the experiences from my life prior to acquiring my disability are just as rich and varied and full of spiritual meaning in the context of my whole life. It would be ridiculous to deny those experiences.

Whenever I hear the phrase "an acquired disability", I think of "an acquired taste"- and I wonder if some of this is a language issue. Having an acquired disability is not the same as learning to like a type of cheese or even a state of being. People would laugh if you made that analogy to a nondisabled life. Living with a disability isn't a static state either. The rest of my life happens amidst all the "quad" jokes, cleaning cat hairs out of my wheelchair casters, learning to trust new aides, and figuring out a schedule that is both efficient and leaves me as much independence as possible. There is no doubt that in one sense, the "acquired taste" of living with quadriplegia becomes easier with time. There is a familiarity now to things that were at first novel and sometimes frightening. I no longer deal with the shock of realizing that some places are still not accessible and how that dynamic plays out in the rest of the world. But it isn't the same as learning to like a certain type of cheese and once and for all I am a lover of brie!

To my reader I say "It all has to do with living and doing that with a sense of humor and faith when humanly possible," whether I walk or roll. I may never acquire certain things, but I hope I never lose the perspective that we are all in this world together. I had friends with disabilities before I acquired mine and have friends without disabilities now. No matter how much I advocate for those in the disability community, I pray I never forget that many whom I count as my dearest friends are allies.

Pass the brie.

My Take on Disability

Jake Scholl, who has muscular dystrophy, talks about some of his life experiences in this video.

The myth of overcoming disability

Anyone else watching the PBS series Downton Abbey?

Being this is a historical series, it's not surprising that where a disabled character is introduced, someone decides to write in an episode about overcoming disability. It's reflective of those times.

Oh wait. It's still happening.

Anyway, there were hints of this in episode 1, where the staff debated whether the character could do his job properly and almost got him fired. In episode two, Bates, the newly hired valet with a leg injury from an old war injury, decides to try out a brace to "overcome his lameness".

I don't want to post spoilers, but the series seems to "overcome" the usual "overcoming" myth by the end of episode 2. By episode 3, Bates' disability is dealt with again in a relationship, so we'll see how that evolves.

You can watch episode 2 and the rest of the series here.

Radio show on Glee

I was listening last night to a discussion by disability advocates and artists about the controversial treatment of disability in Glee . The discussion went beyond the casting of a non disabled actor for a wheelchair using part. it was well worth listening to. Here's the link.

Participants emphasized that myths a d assumptions about disability continue to be perpetuated in the popular show. Instead of using the show as a vehicle to turn this negativity around another generation is being honed on plots that include ablest notions. For example the Christmas show portrayed walking and a cure as every disabled persons wish. The plots include Artie wanting to play football, wanting to dance and do other things but never deal with the fact that sports and dancing are done by people in wheelchairs. Rather Artie is portrayed as depressed because he can't do these things.

It's a real slap in the face to those of us who live with a disability to see this kind of thing week after week. It completely ignores our disability culture and reinforces old and backward notions about disability.

Survival of the Fittest- Or Not?

Imagine being on a reality show and having a tribe member who is a world class athlete, who has world records in distance running, won gold at the NY triathlon, and has finished the Hawaii Ironman.

And then imagine that you reject her because you don't want to go to the finals with a 'charity case'.

This is not a hypothetical situation. It really happened this season on Survivor. But you see this athlete is an amputee. What the tribe members saw was her disability, not her ability.

The October 20th episode of Survivor: Nicaragua featured the elimination of Kelly Bruno, a 26-year-old medical student from North Carolina. Although she was good at challenges and helped with work around her tribe's camp, she was voted off for one simple reason. Kelly is a below-the-knee amputee. In their on-camera interviews and during their conversations around camp, several of Kelly's tribe mates were heard saying that they needed to get rid of her because no one wanted to go to the finals with "a charity case." They figured that the members of the jury would give Kelly the million dollars because they felt sorry for all that she'd been through in her life.

What they succumbed to was the stigma of disability.

Disability often carries a stigma that many people don't want to be associated with. People with disabilities, whether from birth or acquired later in life through injury or illness, are often marked as being weak, fragile and unable to do even the simplest things for themselves. As in the case of Kelly Bruno, other people may see those with disabilities as objects of pity or people to be looked down upon.

Their loss.

Read more at Suite101: The Stigma of Disability http://www.suite101.com/content/the-stigma-of-disability-a303818#ixzz14K8sGFGD

Max and The Magic Pill

Max Starkloff,a cofounder of Paraquad, talks about how he cofounded the organization after living for 12 years in a nursing home before finding accessible housing in Part 1 of this series.



In this video, part 2, Max talks about family and parenting, assumptions about disability and more.



You can find the other videos in this series here.

Wheelchairs are Liberating

"Confined to a wheelchair"

"Wheelchair bound"

How often do we hear these phrases or read them in newspaper articles?

Unfortunately, pretty often. But many wheelchair users don't feel that way. Gary Karp talks in this video about how he is liberated by his wheelchair.



I have spent time confined since I acquired my disability. There was the waiting period for a variance to get a ramp when my wheelchair couldn't get up and down the steps. That was being confined. There was the time before I was able to get my power chair and I couldn't push a manual chair, so I stayed in a recliner. That was being confined.

But I've never been confined by my wheelchair.

The word bound brings to mind action. I'm bound and determined to get things done, to go places to get inside places that present challenges or obstacles. But I'm not bound to a wheelchair. I'm in and out of it. It's not attached anywhere. It's a piece of equipment, a tool to achieve mobility. And yet it's seen so differently by some people.

I know my wheelchair is sometimes seen first, before I am. I can't control how people perceive me in my wheelchair or the assumptions they make. I can, however, hit the joystick and go full speed down empty sidewalks with my hair blowing in the wind.I can use my wheelchair to work, to play in the leaves, to travel, to shop, to visit friends, to eat out, to get where I need to go. Does that sound confining?

Wheelchair users find our own words to link to wheelchairs, which dispel those images that trap us in. Think of your wheelchair as a toy, says Aaron Fotheringham, as he does back flips in his. Some will think of a wheelchair as a gift, if they've been home bound.

I sometimes think of my wheelchair as a place for my cat to nap. Cats have good taste. The cushions are comfy.

The possibilities are unlimited.

Who's Counting?

Perhaps it's because for years I traveled with these two friends, but when we were reunited at the Abilities Expo, being together felt as if we'd never been apart.

Without missing a beat, we immediately slid into the way we are together, laughing at old jokes and smiling at each other's foibles. And in the six hours we shared the same space, these friends whom I see these days only via email, Facebook and hear from on the phone reminded me why relationships can remain strong over distance.

We know how to be with each other. They reach over without asking and open my straw, slip it into my drink with the familiarity that comes from all those shared spaces in real time years ago. When I thank them for their help, they ask "What help?"

I tell them that when I ask a stranger for help, I'm sometimes told "You should bring someone along to help". My inability to do physical things is seen as an unacceptable burden, a bother to some very vocal people.

This kind of attitude is why we have warehoused people with disabilities in institutions for years, out of sight. It's as if some in our society are afraid of what would happen in a world where people who need help getting straws out of paper covers were set loose. Do they imagine hordes of us hitting Starbucks at noon, causing havoc by holding up the line and asking "Can you open this for me?"

My friends open doors and straws and cans without thinking. They know what I can and can't do physically. We don't debate whether they should do it. We don't judge why I need the help. I'm a quadriplegic. I lack dexterity. We get that all relationships are, at their best, interdependent.

When I asked them at the end of the day how many times they had to help me, my friends' eyes glazed over. "Two?" one says. "Ten," the other says. "Even it it was ten," my first friend says, "at what point should you have to pay for help just to go out? Needing two things? Five things a day? Ten things a day?"

We were all suddenly silent. The waitress brought the bill. I struggled with my money and my friend reached over and grabbed the dollars, made change and put the bills in my wallet.

"Eleven," I said.

To which my friend said "Who's counting?"

But I'm reminded on almost a daily basis that some people are.

My love/hate relationship with Glee

I have a love/hate relationship with Glee.

I love that they have hired actors with disabilities for several characters with disabilities in the show.

I hate how they are sometimes portrayed.

For instance, last night's episode "Laryngitis" featured a male quadriplegic who was shown only in bed for both scenes. (I believe they said he was a C-4. I'm talking about the fictional character, not the actual actor). I have friends who are C-4's and they do stay in bed, but at night. During the day they are in wheelchairs.

There was a story line about how this character drove his power chair into the pool so perhaps someone can argue that he had no wheelchair. All I know is that the image of this quad in bed is seared in my mind- and now in many viewers' minds. I hate that.

I hate that because I spend a lot of time undoing myths and assumptions about what it's like to live with paralysis. Some assume I have no life. Some assume I am bedridden. Some assume I am sick all the time. Some assume I can't work. Some assume I'm ready to drive my power chair into a pool because if it happened to them they would. You get the picture.

I was hoping to see a vibrant character who was a quad. I was dreaming that his song would be sung from his wheelchair dressed to the hilt, not naked under a blanket from a hospital bed.

I don't think I'm asking too much, but many will say I am I suppose.

As for the scene about holding hands and whether quads can feel it - some can, some can't. I can't, but where the script told the actor to say that he remembered what it felt like when someone holds his hand, I think my response would be that when someone holds my hand, I feel it in my heart.

In my heart, I hope to see the talented young actor back again in his wheelchair. He gave a great performance. He sang beautifully. And I love that he was given a chance on TV.

I do love Glee for that. It's all a beginning.

Now how about hiring a writer who knows what living with quadriplegia can be like?

Getting the Special Treatment: April Fools

Years ago a friend, also a wheelchair user, and I went to Disney. We were told that they no longer allowed folks in wheelchairs to go to the front of the line on rides because people had abused that rule. Apparently some rented wheelchairs or some such thing so they could get into rides more quickly.

As a result, we found ourselves at times on steep ramps, with my friend clutching onto the railing and, because I didn't have the grip, putting her chair behind mine so I wouldn't go backwards into the folks behind us in line, who kept standing right behind us, oblivious of the effect of gravity on a wheelchair. It was both exhausting and unpleasant for both of us.

Every now and then, a youthful employee would see us on line and gesture for us to go to a flat spot in line where we could wait out an equivalent amount of time, whispering "I can tell those chairs aren't rented".

"Yeah," my friend muttered at one point. "And neither are our disabilities."

Yesterday, as I crawled into my van twice - and had to use a manual chair for a short trip- because the van accessible handicap parking was all taken, I thought about all the assumptions our society has about so called special treatment. I thought about it when I got home to discover that my power strip wasn't working and I had no lights or a way to recharge my laptop without, once again, crawling around and attaching duct tape so I could manage to plug in things until Meredith could get over.

I've determined it's rather like April Fools day, this special treatment myth. The idea that leveling the playing field by giving you a larger spot to park so you can actually get out of your car with your wheelchair is something people envy seems like a bit of a joke when you need it to get out of your car. The fact that letting someone go to a flat spot in line because the line is on a steep hill and that means clinging to a rail for life for a half hour or more otherwise is seen as a way of "getting around a rule" is, at the least, odd. (Very interesting how no one who protested us leaving the line ever found out we just waited around on flat ground the same amount of time as others, but assumed we were put in front without waiting.)

Don't get me wrong. When people go out of their way to make special accommodations, I'm grateful to them for their time and graciousness. But it's the way it's seen by others that needs to change.

Until it does, getting any special treatment will continue to have such a downside that it may outweigh its benefits. Which is why crawling carries its own dignity at times that maybe the nondisabled don't understand.

Is this guy wheelchair bound?

I think not.

Photo shows model not "confined to wheelchair"; caption says otherwise

Shannon Murray, a model who is also a wheelchair user, is the first disabled model used in a High Street retailer's ad campaign, according to the Daily Mail.

The model is hoping that the kinds of images used will challenge preconceptions and assumptions, but ironically the caption under a photo showing Shannon Murray out of her wheelchair, laying on the ground with her feet up on the seat of her ultralightweight wheelchair, contains the still often used description "confined to a wheelchair".

It's also ironic that the article explaining it continues to use this kind of language, beginning with:

Debenhams is set to become the first High Street retailer to use a disabled model in its advertising campaigns.

Shannon Murray, who is confined to a wheelchair, took part in a photo shoot for the department store last week.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1253699/Wheelchair-user-set-disabled-model-star-major-High-Street-campaign-Debenhams.html#ixzz0gZ05JZ4l

A college student with CP talks about assumptions about disability: "It's not that I'm not able"

via YouTube:

A University student with a disability, Ashley Anderson, discusses the struggles of campus life in a wheelchair and misconceptions about her disability in a strikingly honest way.
Filmed and Edited by Eva Andersen

It has nothing to do with disability

I ran across a post discussing why disability "is not your analogy"and would like to add some thoughts.

Saying your quiche turned out badly is like having a disability apparently seems like it's not a big deal to some folks, but to disabled people, it shows ignorance.


Using it for an analogy appropriates the experience of being disabled. It takes the experience without permission or proper respect and only in part, meaning everything gets skewed. This sort of thing tends to leave out either the dimension of social oppression (as with the cooking example) or the impairment (the ‘we’re all disabled’ example). And it’s always used to say something negative: it’s setting up disability as the go-to reference for bad things. In short, using ‘disability’ for an analogy shows a lack of connection with disabled people’s experiences of disability.


This is not surprising since many in our society still blanch when a person with a disability talks about social oppression. When told about the lack of housing, transportation and access to equipment and services, some respond by saying "that's just part of being disabled". But it has nothing to do with disability. This circular thinking is used to justify eliminating the need to find solutions for the limitations that are imposed by barriers, whether they be physical, attitudinal, or systemic.

Systemic barriers, those which are ingrained into not just our institutions but the way we create our world and conduct our affairs in it, have not even been addressed yet except in piecemeal fashion with few exceptions. One exception - those who talk about universal design -speak about a world where the environment is functional for everyone. This eliminates the need to retrofit housing, public buildings and other environments that are originally built with the assumption that they will only be used by non-disabled people. Instead, places are created with the needs of all in mind.

So-called solutions that keep the experience of being disabled segregated and "special" often fail. They don't take into account that the ultimate solution is for the experience of being disabled to be recognized as a valid and equal state of being with the same rights and privileges as being nondisabled. Moreover, as we are seeing in the current economy, programs that are considered "special" are often the first to be cut in a budget crisis. Solutions that are grounded in charity also fail since relying on the kindness of strangers tends to keep people stuck with unpredictable results for what are very real needs.

The answer lies in providing services, equipment and access in a reliable and predictable way so disabled people can fully participate and contribute to society the same way the nondisabled can. As long as we continue to allow people to indulge in the magical thinking that keeps using disability as an analogy alive, as long as people think that a disability simulation is a huge step toward understanding what it's like to live with a disability, as long as segregation is seen as the status quo and not a last resort, the very need for the services, equipment and access will continue to be questioned.

It is not having these things that creates true dis-ability-the time suck and energy suck that nondisabled people don't have to suffer through for making special arrangements included. I don't see them having to call ahead on a special line to get tickets, or make special arrangements to go to a doctor because so many offices are still not accessible. The list goes on and on, but the point is clear: we continue to be segregated in many ways that are ingrained in the way we relate to each other and the way we do things that conducting our affairs leaves us dis-abled in a way that has nothing to do with our physical disability. This is on top of not having access, services or equipment we may need.

Having said all this, perhaps someone out there will reconsider comparing not being able to make a good quiche to having a disability. Perhaps not. I can tell you that a friend of mine who is a chef has quadriplegia and he can tell you how to make a great quiche.

The real story behind cowbell girl

After the Fiesta bowl halftime show, the internet went on a spree about a female college student playing the cowbells. She was dubbed "Sad cowbell girl". Why? Because her expression didn't change when the camera panned the band.

The video was passed around the internet, with comments mocking "sad cowbell girl". There was even a photo of her in "happier times".

And then, someone discovered that this student band member was blind.

The sarcasm continued. There were post headings such as "entire internet hangs head in shame" at Mashable and we are all monsters .

There were, however, no apologies for ignorance.

Had there been one of those inspirational type stories about this band member floating around, then that would have been how she was seen.

The sad thing about this is not cow girl's expression for that moment, but how people still relate to those with disabilities. People with disabilities are seen as inspirational in those genre stories, but it's still open field day when it comes to mockery for some people for what they don't understand. And here's the kicker- some remain ignorant, because when they commit a social mistake and act inappropriately, they feel it's appropriate to chalk it up to "Oh we didn't know".

There was no mention of how it's wrong to treat anyone, disabled or nondisabled, like that.

One writer said that the joke was on everyone because she was blind. That's not true. There's nothing funny about how people continue to distance themselves from those with disabilities to the extent that they can't recognize a blind person unless he or she has a guide dog - and certainly can't imagine a blind student would be in a band unless it's covered in the evening news.

And if it's not, their thinking runs, how on earth can they be expected to know any better?

Give me a break.

Imagine no one has to imagine

There are questions I've heard so often about my disability that Meredith once put together a FAQ list for me to hand out. But not every question made that list.

One of the other questions I've been asked is "What's it like to be a quadriplegic?" usually followed by "I can't imagine!"

My answer to that is no, you probably can't imagine, although you may try , with the misguided help of maudlin movies about disability, on the one hand, or inspirational tales of people climbing mountains, on the other. You'll read stories about quads who want to die and stories about quads who help others find better ways to live. You may tap into societal myths and assumptions about disability, through no fault of your own because we are surrounded by them. You may base your ideas on the few disabled people you've met and generalize from there how it is to live with a disability. And, sadly, you may avoid being around disabled people because you are so worried that you'll say or do the wrong thing as you try to imagine what it's like for them.

To all that I say - please, don't imagine what it's like. You're bound to go wrong with that approach. Living with a disability is a personal experience, shaped in part by economic, class, race, gender and other issues. It is also based on personal response. Some people adapt, others do not and there's a whole range in between.

This is not to say we should judge anyone's personal response to living with a disability. We don't go around condemning nondisabled people for how they respond to life, so why should we judge disabled people for how they respond to living with a disability or, for that matter, for getting things done differently?

But we do as a society. And the doing things differently part is still a huge issue when it comes to many of the assumptions, that begin with the unfortunate word itself - dis-abled. Nothing could be further from the truth of my experience. In fact, I've accomplished more since I acquired my disability than before.

For example, I do some things differently at work, but the way I do things at times (and this is a little known fact) is better than the way I used to do them when I was nondisabled. I take more copious notes, for example. One colleague was amazed to discover the level of detail that my method of taking notes provided one day when we needed to find information out quickly. In minutes, I went through hundreds of pages of documents in a way I never would have discovered if I didn't use assistive technology.

The point is, it's wrong to assume that living with quadriplegia (or any disability), is a disadvantage in every way. It's wrong to think of it as black and white. It's wrong to assume that doing things differently results in an inferior product.

We must get rid of the Sunday night TV movie mindset too, which has for years trapped disabled characters in a story arc that resembles a comic book superhero. Adjusting to living with a disability is not exciting enough, I suppose, to show on the big screen, so Hollywood has to embellish. The truth is that, just like nondisabled people, I have good and bad days. I also get tired, get the flu, get good news, see friends, and experience everything nondisabled people do. The everyday mundane details of my life, which I don't blog about because it would bore you to tears, would never sell a book. Do you care what kind of coffee I drink? Does it matter to you that my cat woke me up at 4 am by banging a door repeatedly because he was out of food? Probably not.

It is only in getting to know and being around someone who is living with a disability that the "I can't imagine" approach gets fixed - or cured- as some of my friends would say. When you see a disabled person in a cubicle next to you or speak with her over coffee and they become a neighbor, a friend, a colleague or a committee member, then you don't have to imagine what it's like.

That's the day I dream about. Imagine when no one has to imagine because we are living shoulder to shoulder.

Some things are easy for some of us, some things are hard

Itzhak Perlman visits Sesame Street and talks about easy and hard things with a child philosopher.



h/t AmigoJen via Twitter

What really makes me sick

I was minding my own business when it happened. Really. I was, in fact, napping, not because I'm an invalid, but because I worked over the weekend and a 7 day schedule tires me out, just like everyone else.

The phone rang and that was when it happened. The caller, who I don't know well, equated people with disabilities with invalids.

That was the moment I regretted stopping my series on myths and assumptions about disabilities, something I toyed with the beginning of the year, then set aside after readers emailed me complaining that they knew all this "stuff". But, really, there are a lot of folks out there who don't know. I know because I'm confronted as a person with a disability with all kinds of erroneous myths and assumptions. They're floating around out there, large as life.

And just like the balloon boy incident, these assumptions and myths are hoaxes. They force our eyes skyward, distract us from the action on the ground, in real life. And people buy into them, even the media.

Disabled people are not invalids. Disability does not equal sickness. However, as Meredith wisely points out, if the proper care is not given to people with disabilities, they can and do become sick. The same is true with equipment and other resources.

Maybe that's why confusion abounds. We have a long way to go before many people with disabilities get the care and equipment they need. Until then, many struggle. Many can't get jobs, housing, or community care and support.

This is what sickens me, not my disability.

Surprises happen

I woke up to a nice surprise. Some seeds blew over from an adjoining yard, leaving flowers growing on a patch of grass outside my window. It reminded me that surprises happen.

I had a few discouraging things happen this month with a group of people with whom I've invested a considerable amount of time trying to form a mutually supportive alliance. The problem is that, as time has gone by, there's very little effort - to none- on their part and more expected from me. As a result, a few situations have arisen that are unacceptable and needed to be addressed, with the result that those who don't want to do their part - a necessary component to having a mutually supportive alliance, by the way - have planted their feet even more firmly and stubbornly. It's a reactionary response to change - and sometimes even bringing up disabilty issues. I can't - and won't -invest my time, energy and effort into a group where it's a one way street.

I used to think, when these things happened, that I was "handling it wrong" or it "needed more time". Those are always possibilities, but I've found that in certain groups, the people are just not ready to see disability issues or a person with a disability as an equal. They lack respect. They come to the table with what in equity is called "unclean hands" - meaning they aren't willing to deal fairly. No negotiation. Their way or the highway. In groups where there's been eventual success, these attitudes certainly don't predominate and usually aren't tolerated, much less encouraged, by the group.

The highway can be a better alternative when you're seeking to form a workable, manageable alliance that is turning out to be one sided. As a result of experience, I've learned to spot when I'm wasting my time. I've also learned that I can, so to speak, shake the sand of some villages off of the tail end of my power chair and move on to another. There's much work to be done and yes, there are people who want to form alliances, rather than perpetuating old and unworkable attitudes toward disability.

Those flowers in the yard may have grown from happenstance, seeds that flew by, but the soil where they landed was receptive to growth. What a nice surprise to remind me to move on.

You people

I always know when I see emails that start with "you people" that my eyebrows, which still work, are going to go up.

The phrase "you people", when directed at any minority, including people with disabilities, is never persuasive to use in an argument.

The phrase "we the people", however, sounds really nice. You'll notice that our founding fathers did not put "you people" in the Constitution. Nor did they use the phrase "those people" or "people who look/sound/dress like that".

I first heard "you people" from a teacher. He used to get up and say "you people are lazy" and "you people will never amount to anything". I went home and told my grandmother who said "people like that" shouldn't be teachers.

Of course, it wasn't the last time I heard "you people". I learned that there were others who used the phrase, in much worse ways. They didn't stand in front of a class and call a group of students lazy or worthless, but singled out minorities. "You people" was the preface to discrimination, because it assumed things about a group as a whole, without getting to know those in the group. It was a way to put people deemed not to be as worthy of respect in their place. It was a way to dehumanize people.

"You people have a sense of entitlement."

"You people want everything."

"You people think you're as good as everyone else."

Ugly words like this have nothing to do with "we the people". Such phrases are full of assumptions about the other person and his or her situation. Sadly, there's no room for "we the people" in there, or what kind of solutions we as a country will find together.

Nowadays when I hear the phrase "you people" followed by judgmental statements or assumptions , the sound of a door closing rings in my ears. It is like a parent saying to a child that this conversation, this dialogue is over because their mind is made up.

How many times have we the people in this country allowed some of us to talk to minorities like children? How dare people do that to other adults? I find it laughable some days when one moment I see a person with a disability patronized like that and in the next moment that same person is expected to overcome insurmountable odds because of barriers that we, as a society, perpetuate.

Every day for the past month I've gone past a strip of road where a friend of mine who has CP works tirelessly to clear away leaves and tree branches. It's a side job he does every year to supplement the money he gets. He can only do it for a few hours at a time, because he has difficulty walking and standing for too long but nevertheless he does it to pay his rent and buy his food, even though there are people in town who offer to help him with those costs. He doesn't "want everything", just what others have - the ability to live independently in the community.

Like the story the First Lady tells about her father, who worked with MS, there are many people with disabilities who work. Some work full time. Others work when they can, as they can. Many work for low or no pay, but we don't hear about that often. I hope others get a chance to tell their stories too, so that "we the people" learn it's not an exception that people with disabilities are hard workers. More would be, given the opportunity. And many people with disabilities do work tirelessly as volunteers, when and if they can. I thank the First Lady for opening the door on that dialogue and encourage others to continue it. It's important to hear about how productive people with disabilities are every day.

But it's also important to note that some people with disabilities can't work. Judging someone's innate worth on the basis of whether he or she is productive is based on the same belief system that condoned the euthanasia of those who were seen as burdens on society. This is a dangerous and slippery slope in our society still - one that we haven't had a dialogue about out in the open. It results in poor health care for many, poor housing, poor transportation and hunger.

When we forget that we are all part of "we the people" and think of others as "you people", it is everyone's loss, no matter what words come after those first two.