Last night I watched this Swedish film about a world famous conductor who returns to his boyhood home. He directs the small church choir, finding community, fulfillment and redemption. His presence transforms the small village, creating ripple effects as the choir members grow and change.
The movie also explores themes of inclusion when a disabled young man joins the choir. The film is remarkable for its portrayal of community and its captivating story lines and characters.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Tom Brown's Hollywood Days
For some reason, my Google reader is pretty empty this morning. Are people out playing in the snow? Have my favorite bloggers lost power?
I have no idea, but I ran across an interesting article about the increasing trend in schools toward punishment. It makes some excellent points about how zero-tolerance policies are not working effectively, not to mention how school searches by outside security guards affect students negatively, particularly in urban areas. It raises serious questions about how power leaves the hands of school administrators and teachers in dealing with the students.
How school reform has changed over generations has been on my mind since I watched the most recent version of Tom Brown's School Days this week. It's the story of an 11 year old boy who transfers mid-term to a rugby school and becomes the target of a bully at a school where the headmaster is seeking reform.
It's amazing how many movie versions there are for this novel. Freddie Bartholomew was in the first one and that was followed by versions in almost every decade. This clip from the first movie gives the background story of the headmaster, Dr. Thomas Arnold, who sets out to rid the school of tyranny in exchange for more freedom. Hmm. Zero tolerance policies and security guards?
The 2005 BBC special had its bleak moments and a much more serious tone, unlike the 1971 version, which seemed to contain a lot of stilted dialogue and affectation.
YouTube also has a clip of the 1951 version. Tom Brown arrives with a perpetually worried look in that version, as well he should if he's read the script. Tom's no sooner off the stage coach than he's greeted by East, another student, who yanks him aside to hide near a tree when Flashman, an upperclassman, walks by. When asked by Tom why East is avoiding Flashman, Tom receives the ominious reply "You'll find out."
In the 2005 version, Stephen Fry plays the headmaster, Dr. Thomas Arnold. Although he wants to get rid of the bullying, he winds up playing the bully himself in a scene where he raps the knuckles of a student for lying, when the boy is telling the truth. And when Tom tries to handle things himself with the bullying, it all goes awry. Poor Tom gets beaten, berated and even burned.
Tom and East have a victory over Flashman and robust Tom miraculously heals from all of it. In the end, Tom is appointed by the headmaster to watch out for a frail new student, George Arthur, who is, in turn, bullied with tragic consequences by Flashman.
It's curtains for well-connected and wealthy Flashman, who is sent down in a scene akin to "don't let the door hit you on the way out" by the father of a girl he impregnated. (But have no fear, he comes back to life again in George MacDonald Fraser's book named Flashman. )
As for Tom, he becomes close to Dr. Arnold and the 1940 version ends with Brown going off to Oxford and the headmaster ill.
The movie ends with the caretaker saying "Funny thing, sir. Boys come and boys go, but we go on forever" followed by an image of the headmaster's gravestone which just goes to show that headmasters come and go too, as do reforms of all kinds. And bullies. And adolescence itself.
Not to mention movie versions. Ah, Hollywood.
I have no idea, but I ran across an interesting article about the increasing trend in schools toward punishment. It makes some excellent points about how zero-tolerance policies are not working effectively, not to mention how school searches by outside security guards affect students negatively, particularly in urban areas. It raises serious questions about how power leaves the hands of school administrators and teachers in dealing with the students.
How school reform has changed over generations has been on my mind since I watched the most recent version of Tom Brown's School Days this week. It's the story of an 11 year old boy who transfers mid-term to a rugby school and becomes the target of a bully at a school where the headmaster is seeking reform.
It's amazing how many movie versions there are for this novel. Freddie Bartholomew was in the first one and that was followed by versions in almost every decade. This clip from the first movie gives the background story of the headmaster, Dr. Thomas Arnold, who sets out to rid the school of tyranny in exchange for more freedom. Hmm. Zero tolerance policies and security guards?
The 2005 BBC special had its bleak moments and a much more serious tone, unlike the 1971 version, which seemed to contain a lot of stilted dialogue and affectation.
YouTube also has a clip of the 1951 version. Tom Brown arrives with a perpetually worried look in that version, as well he should if he's read the script. Tom's no sooner off the stage coach than he's greeted by East, another student, who yanks him aside to hide near a tree when Flashman, an upperclassman, walks by. When asked by Tom why East is avoiding Flashman, Tom receives the ominious reply "You'll find out."
In the 2005 version, Stephen Fry plays the headmaster, Dr. Thomas Arnold. Although he wants to get rid of the bullying, he winds up playing the bully himself in a scene where he raps the knuckles of a student for lying, when the boy is telling the truth. And when Tom tries to handle things himself with the bullying, it all goes awry. Poor Tom gets beaten, berated and even burned.
Tom and East have a victory over Flashman and robust Tom miraculously heals from all of it. In the end, Tom is appointed by the headmaster to watch out for a frail new student, George Arthur, who is, in turn, bullied with tragic consequences by Flashman.
It's curtains for well-connected and wealthy Flashman, who is sent down in a scene akin to "don't let the door hit you on the way out" by the father of a girl he impregnated. (But have no fear, he comes back to life again in George MacDonald Fraser's book named Flashman. )
As for Tom, he becomes close to Dr. Arnold and the 1940 version ends with Brown going off to Oxford and the headmaster ill.
The movie ends with the caretaker saying "Funny thing, sir. Boys come and boys go, but we go on forever" followed by an image of the headmaster's gravestone which just goes to show that headmasters come and go too, as do reforms of all kinds. And bullies. And adolescence itself.
Not to mention movie versions. Ah, Hollywood.
Canine advocacy program
I received an article from a friend about the Canine advocacy program in Michigan.
Amos, a two-year-old lab mix, visits court rooms to work with child witnesses in cases of domestic or sexual assault.
The article says:
The idea of using dogs to ease courtroom tensions is not new and is gaining popularity across the country. Courthousedogs.com began in Seattle when an assistant prosecutor in King County, took her disabled son's service dog to work one day a week and discovered that the dog had a profoundly calming effect on young witnesses. Now that county, and others in Texas, Georgia, Montana, Florida and Maryland have dogs working courtrooms.
Amos, a two-year-old lab mix, visits court rooms to work with child witnesses in cases of domestic or sexual assault.
The article says:
The idea of using dogs to ease courtroom tensions is not new and is gaining popularity across the country. Courthousedogs.com began in Seattle when an assistant prosecutor in King County, took her disabled son's service dog to work one day a week and discovered that the dog had a profoundly calming effect on young witnesses. Now that county, and others in Texas, Georgia, Montana, Florida and Maryland have dogs working courtrooms.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Transitioning insurance companies - with a baby at stake
In the paperwork chase that getting health care has become, a little boy named Oliver was almost lost.
See Guest Post from 'A Frustrated Grandmother'.
See Guest Post from 'A Frustrated Grandmother'.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Cloudy- with sunglasses
I was reading the news when I ran across this article about a NY driver who was ticketed for using a mannequin to drive in the car pool lane. The police figured out there might be a scam because the mannequin was wearing sunglasses on an overcast, cloudy day.
It reminded me of the people I run into who cheat using handicap parking. This is particularly frustrating in an area where it's crowded. Not being able to find a spot can mean having to leave without doing an errand, but it can also mean missing or being late for appointments.
It does no good to say anything to those who cheat. They're full of rationalizations. "No, I'm not disabled, but my husband is. This placard is legal! I do it all the time." And on and on. This is one of the most frustrating experiences - to see a nondisabled family member using the placard when no disabled passenger is even in the car. Then there are those who have no placard and just gamble on the fact that the police won't catch them. Or those who obtain temporary placards and continue to use them beyond the expiration date.
It's all cheating. On the Philadelphia news, there was a story about a guy who tried to sell a placard on Craigslist. NBC10 investigators went undercover to bust him after a wheelchair user seeing the ad got nowhere calling police and the DMV.
And so it goes on. However, the good news is that some states are cracking down on handicap parking abuses.
Too bad it's not as easy as spotting a mannequin with sunglasses on a cloudy day.
It reminded me of the people I run into who cheat using handicap parking. This is particularly frustrating in an area where it's crowded. Not being able to find a spot can mean having to leave without doing an errand, but it can also mean missing or being late for appointments.
It does no good to say anything to those who cheat. They're full of rationalizations. "No, I'm not disabled, but my husband is. This placard is legal! I do it all the time." And on and on. This is one of the most frustrating experiences - to see a nondisabled family member using the placard when no disabled passenger is even in the car. Then there are those who have no placard and just gamble on the fact that the police won't catch them. Or those who obtain temporary placards and continue to use them beyond the expiration date.
It's all cheating. On the Philadelphia news, there was a story about a guy who tried to sell a placard on Craigslist. NBC10 investigators went undercover to bust him after a wheelchair user seeing the ad got nowhere calling police and the DMV.
And so it goes on. However, the good news is that some states are cracking down on handicap parking abuses.
Too bad it's not as easy as spotting a mannequin with sunglasses on a cloudy day.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Michigan disability advocate dies at 84
In 2003, Forrest Fynewever'said in an interview that:
"I used to be told that there is no sense in being given a college education because no one hires crippled kids, crippled people. Well, I fooled them. And they may have been right at the time. We had overcompensated for our disabilities, and let people know that we were people. I am a person who happens to have a disability, I am not a disabled person. ... I use a wheelchair, I occupy a wheelchair, but I am not bound to it."
Fynewever, who had polio since the age of 2, became an engineer, married and raised four children. He said his advocacy was successful because he was persistent. He grew to believe that "people with disabilities were tolerated, rather than accepted" and welcomed people approaching him.
The retired engineer worked to improve access to public transportation and parks, for curb cuts, electric doors in buildings, and for access in city hall. He died Friday at the age of 84.
"I used to be told that there is no sense in being given a college education because no one hires crippled kids, crippled people. Well, I fooled them. And they may have been right at the time. We had overcompensated for our disabilities, and let people know that we were people. I am a person who happens to have a disability, I am not a disabled person. ... I use a wheelchair, I occupy a wheelchair, but I am not bound to it."
Fynewever, who had polio since the age of 2, became an engineer, married and raised four children. He said his advocacy was successful because he was persistent. He grew to believe that "people with disabilities were tolerated, rather than accepted" and welcomed people approaching him.
The retired engineer worked to improve access to public transportation and parks, for curb cuts, electric doors in buildings, and for access in city hall. He died Friday at the age of 84.
Monday, February 1, 2010
The History of My Shoes and the Evolution of Darwin's Theory, by Kenny Fries
I've been reading Kenny Fries' book The History of My Shoes and the Evolution of Darwin's Theory. It says much about the experience of living with a disability.
Because there is so much written about that experience and disability in general which is fraught with assumptions and misinformation, it's refreshing and reassuring to see writing like this. I find myself taking deep breaths and feeling centered as I read the prose, remembering how it is when I'm around other people with disabilities.
I miss that experience for many reasons. One of them is that there's an awkwardness about how some non-disabled people relate to disabled people. There isn't the usual banter between us, but these strained questions about how I do things. It often makes me feel as if I'm on a stage or in a 24-hour disability simulation.
"But if you're a quadriplegic, how do you type?" "How do you get dressed , or go to the bathroom or get into your bed?"
My answer these days is to suggest that they go to YouTube, where there's a plethora of videos done by quadriplegics to illustrate these very things.
Less common are the nondisabled people who ask how my job is going or if I've seen the latest movie. Those conversations happen more frequently with my disabled friends.
On page 110, of Kenny Fries' book, he writes about how nondisabled people generalize about his sexuality based on knowing another disabled person. Fries tells a colleague who assumes that "people are very interested in how disabled people have sex" that most people don't think of disabled people as being sexual.
The book also discusses how "our culture demands explanations about most disabilities"and how disability becomes a story "with a hero or victim" and therefore a problem of the individual, "not a category defined by the society." The author explains how this keeps the "dialectic of normalcy" intact.
As I was reading this, a lightbulb went off. This is all so true - and so limiting to ways of relating. Not only are constant questions about what my story is regarding my disability annoying, they are intrusive. Complete strangers ask "What happened to you?" upon sight. Acquaintances paint me as a hero or victim, and then don't understand when I show no interest in their take on my life.
It's naïve to think this way of relating doesn't box people in. When I was seen as a hero, which often happened when I was playing wheelchair sports, the minute I mentioned I worked during the week as a professional, the reaction changed. "Oh, so this is just a hobby?" the person would ask, disappointed. The hero story apparently required a full-time commitment to chasing a little ball around a tennis court. This is how predictable reactions to disabled people can be and are.
I really wish more people would pick up Kenny Fries' book. I've barely touched the surface of what it contains. There is so much more in there for both disabled and nondisabled readers. He somehow managed to set aside any self-conscious voice as he writes about growing up with a disability, making decisions about medical surgeries, and his relationship to the shoes that allow him to navigate the world.
This even includes a piece about how a replacement pair of shoes are useless to him. If only some durable medical equipment providers would read this! Those of us with disabilities know what works for us. Although it's fine to try something new and improved, having that thrust upon us with no choice can leave us immobilized.
Luckily, relationships are more diverse than that. Yet I can't help but wonder, how refreshing it would be if more people would pick up this book and begin to understand that effectively navigating the world is not just a dream for the disabled, anymore than it is for the nondisabled.
Because there is so much written about that experience and disability in general which is fraught with assumptions and misinformation, it's refreshing and reassuring to see writing like this. I find myself taking deep breaths and feeling centered as I read the prose, remembering how it is when I'm around other people with disabilities.
I miss that experience for many reasons. One of them is that there's an awkwardness about how some non-disabled people relate to disabled people. There isn't the usual banter between us, but these strained questions about how I do things. It often makes me feel as if I'm on a stage or in a 24-hour disability simulation.
"But if you're a quadriplegic, how do you type?" "How do you get dressed , or go to the bathroom or get into your bed?"
My answer these days is to suggest that they go to YouTube, where there's a plethora of videos done by quadriplegics to illustrate these very things.
Less common are the nondisabled people who ask how my job is going or if I've seen the latest movie. Those conversations happen more frequently with my disabled friends.
On page 110, of Kenny Fries' book, he writes about how nondisabled people generalize about his sexuality based on knowing another disabled person. Fries tells a colleague who assumes that "people are very interested in how disabled people have sex" that most people don't think of disabled people as being sexual.
The book also discusses how "our culture demands explanations about most disabilities"and how disability becomes a story "with a hero or victim" and therefore a problem of the individual, "not a category defined by the society." The author explains how this keeps the "dialectic of normalcy" intact.
As I was reading this, a lightbulb went off. This is all so true - and so limiting to ways of relating. Not only are constant questions about what my story is regarding my disability annoying, they are intrusive. Complete strangers ask "What happened to you?" upon sight. Acquaintances paint me as a hero or victim, and then don't understand when I show no interest in their take on my life.
It's naïve to think this way of relating doesn't box people in. When I was seen as a hero, which often happened when I was playing wheelchair sports, the minute I mentioned I worked during the week as a professional, the reaction changed. "Oh, so this is just a hobby?" the person would ask, disappointed. The hero story apparently required a full-time commitment to chasing a little ball around a tennis court. This is how predictable reactions to disabled people can be and are.
I really wish more people would pick up Kenny Fries' book. I've barely touched the surface of what it contains. There is so much more in there for both disabled and nondisabled readers. He somehow managed to set aside any self-conscious voice as he writes about growing up with a disability, making decisions about medical surgeries, and his relationship to the shoes that allow him to navigate the world.
This even includes a piece about how a replacement pair of shoes are useless to him. If only some durable medical equipment providers would read this! Those of us with disabilities know what works for us. Although it's fine to try something new and improved, having that thrust upon us with no choice can leave us immobilized.
Luckily, relationships are more diverse than that. Yet I can't help but wonder, how refreshing it would be if more people would pick up this book and begin to understand that effectively navigating the world is not just a dream for the disabled, anymore than it is for the nondisabled.
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