Question of the Month, May

Describe a situation in which an adaptation of your own making exceded the performance of a standard accomodation or Universal Design element.

April Question of the Month

CALL FOR ENTRIES
Describe the first time you became aware of a disability? What factors contributed to your interpretation of the experience? Send me your reply by clicking on the Comments link below. Your email address and name will be kept anonymous even from me, unless you choose to share it. If I like what you have to say, I’ll post your reply. Just imagine: screen- reading software whispering your words straight into the ears of virtual pilgrims. Unless you’re really pissed off about something, in which case we’ll be sure to instruct our readers to turn the volume WAY UP.

Cooking at High Altitudes

Haven't been writing much lately as the demands of graduate school temporarily took over my life. Three weeks ago I presented my thesis exhibition. My portion of the show at least was fully accessible, and I received a good deal of positive feedback about the work. I showed a soft foam sculpture of a rolled- up sidewalk, a series of embossed "tactile" drawings on vellum, a pink foam text piece, this blog, and a long work table that allows me to scroll large drawings through two rollers- more manageable than working on the wall or floor. Now, I'm busy finishing up final papers and preparing to leave for the Denver area at the end of May where I'll be teaching Home Ec and Art classes at the Colorado Center for the Blind. It's a two- month position, verging on Camp Counselor though not quite since some of the students will be taking college prep courses. There will also be groups of middle and high school kids.

One of the reasons I wanted to teach at a center sponsored by the National Federation of the Blind is the fact that it's run by blind people. Most of the instructors are blind, so it removes that custodial element of blindness skills training that so many training centers "for" PWDs engage in, consciously or unconsciously. More important to my career interests, it's the only training center of its kind that has an art instructor. So, while I'm helping kids master cooking and cleaning by way of non- visual techniques, I'll have the opportunity to trade curriculum plans with Ann.

Throughout grad school I've complained about having so little time to clean my apartment and experiment with new recipes, but this summer I'll be paid to do just that! Oh yeah, I'll be trained to do all of it while blindfolded with sleepshades; i.e. I'll be taught to do everything without the use of sight, which is how the students are expected to learn to do things too.

Why 'Million Dollar Baby' Infuriates the Disabled

by Lennard J. Davis
from the Chicago Tribune

Although Clint Eastwood's film "Million Dollar Baby" continues to garner praise and awards -- a Director's Guild Award for Eastwood, seven Oscar nominations, as well as best actress and director for the Golden Globes -- a mounting furor around the film accompanies these kudos.

In Chicago last week, Not Dead Yet, a group of people with disabilities, assembled at night to protest what they say is the anti-disability stance of the film. A demonstration also was held in Berkeley, Calif., and more are planned in other cities. How can there be such a wide gap between the critics and the disability activists' point of view?

(Note to readers: This story reveals a key plot twist in "Million Dollar Baby.")

The film tells us the story of a poor but feisty young woman, Maggie (Hilary Swank), who wants Frankie (Clint Eastwood) to train her to be a boxer. Initially he refuses, but when he gives in, she becomes an unbeatable opponent in the ring -- until she breaks her neck and becomes a quadriplegic. At that point, the film throws a left hook and switches from a Rocky-themed plot to a disability tragedy. When Maggie loses a leg to bedsores, she gives up her wish to live and begs to be euthanized by Frankie. And with a little soul searching, he agrees.

Many people with disabilities, including the National Spinal Cord Injury Association, a national advocacy group with 13,000 members, see the film as one that uncritically advocates euthanasia for quadriplegics. There are no scenes in which anyone at the hospital tries to deal with Maggie's depression or offers her counseling or at the least an anti-depressant. And the feisty girl who would stop at nothing to fight in the ring, who after the accident musters the energy to tell her hillbilly family to bugger off, strangely changes character and becomes someone who gives up her ghost rather quickly -- even refusing Eastwood's offer of sending her to college (his one attempt to affect her despair).

Roger Ebert wrote in the Chicago Sun-Times that, "The characters in movies do not always do what we would do. That is their right. It is our right to disagree with them." He added, "What kind of movies would there be if everyone in them had to do what we thought they should do?" Ebert's right that freedom of expression and creative license are valuable things and every right-minded person should fight to preserve this right. But he's wrong if he thinks that films don't have a powerful influence on how we think about ourselves and the world.

Not an impartial artist

In this story, it is important to know that Eastwood isn't just any impartial artist in the area of disability. In fact, he has actively testified before the House Judiciary Committee against the provisions of the Americans with Disabilities Act. Eastwood is the owner of the Mission Ranch Inn in Carmel, Calif. A patron with disabilities had sued under the ADA claiming that the hotel restrooms were inaccessible and the only accessible guest room was more than double the price of other rooms in the hotel. Eastwood was cited for some of these violations, although the major claims in the case were dismissed.

Angered by the ruling, Eastwood went to Congress to lobby for a bill that would have substantially weakened the ADA by requiring a 90-day notification of violations. At that time, Eastwood said that the ADA amounted to "a form of extortion."

Although Eastwood didn't write the script, he did select it, act in it, direct and co-produce it. Is it surprising that "Million Dollar Baby" isn't particularly sympathetic to the views of people with disabilities? If a film were obviously anti-gay, or anti-women or anti-abortion -- would all the film critics rally around it and tell us what a great film it was?

So why do so many critics like this film? Could it be because they actually have very little knowledge or contact with people with disabilities, deaf people, blind people, quadriplegics -- except through the media? Many people, critics included, know very little about them or their issues. While it is rare to find a college student who isn't well versed in race, class, gender and sexuality -- few if any know about their fellow Americans with disabilities.

Ironically, one of the ways that many people do actually know about this group is through movies. Think of all the films that have been made about people with disabilities: "The Miracle Worker," "Johnny Belinda," "My Left Foot," "Children of a Lesser God," "Rain Man," "Elephant Man," "A Beautiful Mind" and many more. And this year's crop are close to garnering awards -- "Ray," "Aviator," "The Sea Inside" and "Million Dollar Baby." Come to think of it, if you want to be nominated for an award, you might just want to do a disability movie.

These films generally show us people with disabilities triumphing over their "handicap" or living the tragedy of the disease. Great themes for an uplifting feel-good film or a tearjerker. These films, for the most part, are made by abled people who are using the issue of disability to rally the forces of hope and pity. People with disabilities in film tend to be lionized or thrown to the lions. But they almost never are made or written by people with disabilities -- so the actual life experience of people who have walked the walk, tapped the cane, or wheeled the chair, isn't really reflected in many of these works.

F.X. Toole, who wrote the story on which "Million Dollar Baby" was based, had a heart condition throughout his life, his son said, and "had strong feelings about not wanting to live in a reduced state." Like most people, Toole had a vision and a fear of life with a disability, but he didn't have direct experience.

So-called normal people are fascinated and haunted by the person with a disability, probably because, unlike any other identity, one can go from being a normal to a quadriplegic in a matter of seconds. Most white people aren't going to become black in their lifetimes, and most men (with a few exceptions) aren't going to become women in the near future -- but the shaky and uncertain position of being normal can easily convert by a simple medical report into a state of being disabled overnight. That's why most film viewers are so quick to either idolize or pity the disabled person (almost always played by a normal actor), and are so quick to acknowledge euthanasia as a quick fix to the as-yet unfixable condition of quadriplegia.

Inaccuracies portrayed

One of the areas of distress to people with disabilities is that "Million Dollar Baby" is so inaccurate and unnuanced about life with quadriplegia, unlike the Spanish-language film "The Sea Inside," also nominated for an Academy Award and also about euthanasia.

For example, since 1990 there are laws that allow patients to refuse treatment. A quadriplegic on a respirator could simply ask to be disconnected from the device. Doctors would have done so and administered a sedative so the person could die peacefully. Instead of allowing that rather benign solution, screenwriter Eastwood went with the more outre plot device of having the character illegally enter the hospital, disconnect the device and inject her with adrenalin, a far more jolting ending than most hospitals would have provided.

And if he had bothered to talk with anyone who had a disability, he would have found out that the kind of bed sores that require amputations would not have arisen in an upscale nursing home, and certainly not that early in her stay. But Eastwood wasn't interested in reality, like other normal filmmakers who make movies about the disabled, they are dealing in the grand myths and legends that surround the idea of disability rather than the reality of living with a disability.

It is true that "Million Dollar Baby" is only a film, but when it comes time for many people to make health decisions about themselves or a loved one's future, what experience or knowledge will they fall back on? Few people have personal experience with severe disabilities, and few will take the time to find out about what life is like living with deafness, blindness or disability. No, most people will fall back on what they know -- which is what they have garnered from novels, plays, films and television shows. So, it's only when such art forms begin to reflect the real lives of people with disabilities, will most folks get a better understanding of the 15 to 20 percent of Americans who live and cope daily with disabilities.

2005 Iditarod broadens the definition of "challenge..."

from The Baltimore Sun
Saturday, March 05, 2005
An extra climb in the Iditarod
By Candus Thomson

As a youngster, Rachael Scdoris turned to her dogs for comfort when
cruel
classmates taunted her. And it will be her dogs that the 20-year-old
musher
calls on today as she lines up to compete in her first Iditarod.

Each day, before she dips into her snack bag along the 1,150-mile
trail,
she'll feed her team. Before she massages her own weary feet, she will
knead
the soreness from 64 paws.

When both they and she are digging down for that last bit of energy,
the
Iditarod rookie will raise her voice in song - gospel and spiritual
tunes
she has known forever.

There is no place she would rather be.

"Running a team of dogs is the fun part. There is an electricity
between
us," she says.

On top of the hardships each of the other 78 Iditarod mushers will
face,
Scdoris has one more challenge. She is blind.

Congenital achromatopsia, a deficiency of the photoreceptors called
cones
and rods in her retinas, affects her depth perception, light
sensitivity and
ability to determine color. From the back of her sled, she can make out
the
fuzzy forms of her lead dogs, but little else.

Bright, white conditions along a snowy route are particularly difficult
for
her. Low-hanging tree branches or open water or wild animals are
potentially
life threatening.

In other races, she has been guided by a "visual interpreter," a scout
on a
snowmobile who radioed back warnings about when to duck and turn, much
the
way blind climber Erik Weihenmayer took directions from sighted
teammates
when he reached the summit of Mount Everest.

But the Iditarod Trail Committee initially rejected her application to
compete because the idea of a gasoline machine running with the sleds
was
anathema. The committee relented in 2003, but attached a stipulation:
her
eyes would have to be a musher on a sled, not a snowmobile driver.

The ruling opened one door and closed another. Paying for an additional
musher and dog team was financially impossible, and Scdoris was forced
to
withdraw from the 2004 race.


This year, she has corporate sponsors and an experienced shadow. With
her
every step of the way will be "Precious" Paul Ellering, 51, a bear of a
man
with a huge mustache and shaved head who made his reputation as a
tough-guy
wrestler and coach in the World Wrestling Federation before he
completed the
2001 Iditarod.

Naturally, there's grumbling.

The outdoors writer for the Anchorage Daily News predicted, "Once the
race
starts, she'll be no more than a well-financed, sled-riding spectator
on the
trail."

An opinion piece in the same newspaper complained about the "hype," and
hinted that the Iditarod Trail Committee altered the rules to avoid a
discrimination lawsuit.

If she manages to complete the race and collect prize money, the writer
wondered whether Scdoris would deserve an asterisk next to her name to
signify the help she got that other mushers did not.

Scdoris says that like her dogs, she will pull her own weight.

"I worked hard to get here, but so did everyone else. There are some
things
I can't do, like fly a plane and drive," she says. "The rest is fair
game."

While Ellering can be her vision, he cannot be her muscle. Care of the
dogs
and managing the three tons of supplies dropped along the trail are
Scdoris's responsibility. The dogs will be a lifeline she must sustain.

John Balzar, who completed Alaska's other distance race, the 1,023-mile
Yukon Quest International Sled Dog Race, recalled in his book, Yukon
Alone:

"There is no choice but to hang on to the sled and give yourself over
to the
dogs. They drive themselves by instincts that are impossible for humans
to
decipher.

"Their trail sense and determination is all a person has. Without them,
these mushers would be as helpless as babies out of a crib ...

"Tired, sore, cold and scared, a musher feels sobbing spasms of
gratitude
and admiration for these small, hard-muscled animals. You have led them
here, and now they must lead you out."

To qualify for the Iditarod, Scdoris placed 11th in Montana's 350-mile
"Race
to the Sky," and sixth in the 430-mile John Beargrease Sled Dog
Marathon in
Minnesota last year.

"The Iditarod is just like those races; it's just a lot longer," she
jokes.

The record, set in 2002, is 8 days, 22 hours, 46 minutes and 2 seconds.
Scdoris believes she will need about two weeks to get from Anchorage to
Nome.

There were early signs Scdoris was going to be a musher. At age 8, she
announced her intentions to run in the Iditarod.

She soloed at 11

"I thought it was really cute and that it was wonderful that she had
such a
rich fantasy," recalls her father, Jerry Scdoris, who raises sled dogs
and
helps organize a 300-mile sled race each year near the family's home in
Bend, Ore.

Rachael Scdoris took her first solo ride at 11 and completed her first
race
the next year. As she's grown older, she's taken up rock climbing and
participated on her high school's track and field team.

The taunting by elementary school classmates only made her tougher, her
father believes.

"I just see her as a great overachiever," Jerry Scdoris says. "It's
easy for
us as parents to do it ourselves. I think that's what I've learned from
her,
to step back and be supportive.

"It's been a whole lifetime of letting go, and now I don't have any
choice."

Rachael doesn't understand what the fuss is about.

"I'm not anything special. I'm just out here running my dogs," she
says.

Others say Scdoris is a role model, especially for blind children and
adults.

"We all need somebody else to push the boundaries for us," says Barbara
Pierce, director of public education for the Baltimore-based National
Federation of the Blind.

"People like Rachael and Erik do that for us. They refuse to agree to
live
by the limitations. They give the rest of us permission to dream our
dream
and climb our own Everest."

Danger by Association

I've been thinking about the semantics of civil rights movements and how harsh the language is on young ears like mine, and not just for youngish people in the disability rights community but for those feminists, GLTB and people of color who sometimes grow a little weary of the linguistic autopsies going on all around us.

Cause of death? Unruly Prefix. Excessive Hyphenation. Misuse of the Acronym.

Take the story I posted a few days ago, "From 'Passing' to 'Coming Out.' " I love the idea that a disabled woman might come clean about her disability as a result of embarking on motherhood, but I've always found the use of the term, "coming out" a little odd for people with physical disabilities. Particularly if the disability is plainly visible, it would seem that what happens here has more to do with reconceptualizing or renaming one's body as a social rather than a medicalized self. Not that I'm opposed to clever cross- references, but it would be nice if there were some reciprocation once in awhile. As yet, only a handful of Punks and Anarchists have come anywhere close: there's that Ramones song with the chant from Freaks in the chorus, the novel Geek Love, and... and...

Of course, the truth is that many of the same prejudices that effect disabled people today once plagued (and plague) other minorities. Their bodies were and are medicalized/ violated, their communities segregated, their access to information and public space limited. Now, it's like, "We got what we wanted. You kids are on your own." But more on this later.

Enter at Your Own Risk

This article by Monty Anderson appears in the Fall - Winter 2003 issue of the Student Slate, a newsletter produced and distributed by blind students through the National Association of Blind Students:

"How ya doing bud?" he asked as he walked by, patting me on the arm. From the deep resonance of his voice, he appeared to be a big guy.


"All right," I replied and waited for his instructions.


I was sitting in a group of seven people waiting to enter the haunted house at the Waikiki Shell. My friend Tasha and I had been talking about it for days. We hadn't been to a haunted house since we were kids, and on the drive over, we were laughing and shivering like high school kids.


The man started telling the group what to expect. There would be a lot of large stairs and a lot of low places where we would have to duck. He pointed the flashlight at me, the light bouncing off my cane, and said, "Especially you." I smiled and nodded. For one thing, I'm six foot eight, so I'm used to ducking through doorways and dodging ceiling fans. For another, I'm blind. I still have some sight at the periphery of my vision, but I carry a cane and borrow an occasional shoulder when walking through unfamiliar territory...

Walking Distance

Don't worry- sooner or later I will run out of cutesy double entendres for this blog. How many can there be after all? I wonder if in future our speech will be peppered with car- and- driver allusions, causing the average American to sound like one of the guys on Car Talk.

A recurring theme throughout many of my dreams involves an impossible design feature like something taken from a Robert Heinlen (sp?) story. I'll be strolling through a house, a mall, or some other space and instead of coming to a threshold, magically, the walls will shift to make way for a new wing or hallway. Never do I pass under an Exit sign. Nothing is recycled. I rarely double- back. I can only move forward through an exquisitely detailed maze, which might sound overwhelming or surreal at best, but just as often I recall a sense of exhilieration. It's the urban pioneer in me, though I had these dreams growing up in a very small rural community. I walked and rode the same short distances every day of those first eighteen years, and I knew the paths intimately, down to the potholes and lazy transitions from tar to gravel and then dirt. You could plot the growth of the neighborhoods by the attendant layers of earth laid upon them. Logging roads were the most sinister, as they indicated either a new development was in the works or that the shady tree cutters had been in need of some fast cash.

Alabama weather being what it was, I did far more exploring back then. I moved into this apartment in April of last year and only took time to walk the north- and eastern corridors of my new neighborhood before a bitter winter set in. I was elated this week to learn that on top of tons of great Mexican cuisine, my zip code boasts a second Little Italy directly south of here. Insulated from the single digits by the promise of a more diverse diet, my friend and I struck out on Wednesday night to find the place recommended to us, La Fortunelli's on Oakley. The still, cold air, our journey felt just like one of my old familiar dreams with one neighborhood opening directly on to another, except that in this one there was a bottle of Extra Virgin olive oil waiting for me.

From 'Passing' to 'Coming Out"

Another selection from the Ragged Edge Magazine. Here, Candace M. Lee describes her decision to proudly "out" herself as a person with a disability at the time of her first pregnancy. Way to go Candace!!!

I confess: I've been passing.

I'm a 32-year-old woman, disabled since birth, and until recently I have been firmly in the closet.

I have been living in the non-disabled world all my life. I was part of early attempts at "mainstreaming" children with disabilities into regular classrooms (I received special services at recess). Once I passed adolescence, my health stabilized to the point that ongoing medical care is not required, other than regular check-up visits with various specialists. I completed college, then graduate school. I am a full time professional. I have been married eight years to a non-disabled person.

In most of the situations I encounter, I am the only person present with a disability. All the key disability rights issues -- work, housing, medical care -- have left me unscathed, because of my fortunate ability to work full time, to put a roof over my own head, to purchase health insurance.

And yet, here are these braces. This limp. This ostomy appliance. These stares in the supermarket. All remind me that, while I live among the non-disabled, I remain on the margins. I remain Other...

From the Ragged Edge, an article by Steven Kuusisto

Click on the above link for the complete essay. I'm opting for the title "Life without Mozart," on this one. A poetic examination of some of the more humbling aspects of carlessness:

NOW AND THEN, WALKING the shoulder of a road, moving slowly with a cane, I feel like Robert Louis Stevenson's "Blind Pew" -- I'm the blind man who talks to himself as he makes his way to the supermarket, a two-mile round trip jaunt. I wear a backpack and I think of a cartoon I once saw entitled "Life Without Mozart" -- it showed a patch of desolate landscape, a desert, where only a cactus grew, and beside it lay a flat tire and a rusted can.


I'm walking the edge of a road where everywhere in the tall grass are the tokens of "life without Mozart" -- the McDonald's trash and the shattered beer bottles. I'm walking here -- that is, in a place not fit for recreation. This is walking in earnest and I'm thinking of Nanao Sakaki, a Japanese poet who as a boy was the radar operator on the day they dropped the bomb on Nagasaki. A survivor, he has spent his life walking across North America from one nuclear installation to another, writing poems, many of which are ecstatic. He describes how to eat from the ditch along the road. He pan fries grasshoppers, which he soaks in tamari: they taste like garlic. The thoughts of the non-driver. . .

Blind Couple Denied Day Care License

All rights reserved.
http://www.thedenverchannel.com/news/4159677/detail.html
There's even an on- line poll that allows you to vote on the debate. Last time I checked, 26% of voters believe that the couple should be allowed to open a day care, 62% feel they should not, and 12% aren't sure.

A Grand Junction, Colo. couple is at the center of a developing controversy over disabilities
that could become a national issue.
Tom and Christine Hutchinson wanted to open a day-care operation in
their home, so they took CPR and first-aid courses required by the state
of Colorado.
They also submitted to background and medical checks and provided
references. Their home was inspected and the submitted to in-home interviews
about their
backgrounds, college degrees, and child and family studies.
The state spent six months going through their qualifications before
denying their license because of their disability.

some dis-quieting news & what to do about it

This was sent to me by way of the National Federation of the Blind's Director of Governmental Affairs

Immediate Action Needed To Save Vocational
Rehabilitation

Fellow Federationists,

H.R. 27, the bill to reauthorize the Workforce Investment Act comes
before
the House Committee on Education and the Workforce on February 16.
Indications are that this legislation will include a provision allowing
governors to seek permission to consolidate several employment and
training
programs including the Vocational Rehabilitation program. Every one of
us
must express opposition to this provision because its passage likely
means
the end of separate and identifiable services for the blind in those
states
that choose this option.

We all know there are significant costs necessary for good training
prior to
employment. We all know the rehabilitation program including funding
and
services must remain separate from other programs in order to preserve
accountability for the spending of those funds. The blind are a low
incidence disability and would suffer in the fierce competition for
services
and funds expected under consolidation.

So what shall we do? Each of you with members from your state on the
House
Committee on Education and the Workforce must call your Washington
office
and urge your representatives to exclude the Vocational Rehabilitation
program from any consolidation plan. At this time, I do not have an
amendment sponsor, but I continue to aggressively pursue leads to find
a
Republican committee member who will introduce an amendment. Let me
know
immediately if you have a lead for me. An announcement will be
promptly
posted when someone is found.

This provision is among the most serious threats ever faced by the
Vocational Rehabilitation program. While many of us have our share of
bad
rehabilitation experiences, we are much better off with the program we
have
than the one that would result if this provision becomes law. We have
much
educating to do. Please spread the word widely seeking calls from all
who
can do so. This threat to rehabilitation services is real and it
demands
our very best efforts if we hope to prevail. I trust that we will.
Below
you will find a list of members of the House Education and the
Workforce
Committee with phone number included. For states without members,
contact
either the office of John Boehner or the office of Buck McKeon to show
your
concern about this provision.

James McCarthy
Director of Governmental Affairs
NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND
1800 Johnson Street
Baltimore, Maryland 21230
(410) 659-9314, ext. 2240
jmccarthy@nfb.org

COMMITTEE MEMBERS: House Committee on Education and
the
Workforce

MEMBER
PHONE FAX
Rep. John A. Boehner (R-OH) (Chair) 202-225-6205
202-225-0704
Rep. Thomas E. Petri (R-WI) (Vice Chair) 202-225-2476
202-225-2356
Rep. George Miller (D-CA) (Ranking Minority Member) 202-225-2095
202-225-5609
Rep. Howard P. McKeon (R-CA) 202-225-1956
202-226-0683
Rep. Michael N. Castle
(R-DE) 202-225-4165 202-225-2291
Rep. Sam Johnson
(R-TX) 202-225-4201
202-225-1485
Rep. Charlie Norwood
(R-GA) 202-225-4101 202-225-0279
Rep. Vernon J. Ehlers (R-MI) 202-225-3831
202-225-5144
Rep. Judy Biggert
(R-IL) 202-225-3515 202-225-9420
Rep. Todd Platts
(R-PA) 202-225-5836
202-226-1000
Rep. Pat Tiberi
(R-OH) 202-225-5355
202-226-4527
Rep. Richard Anthony Keller (R-FL) 202-225-2176
202-225-0999
Rep. Tom Osborne
(R-NE) 202-225-6435
202-226-1385
Rep. Joe Wilson
(R-SC) 202-225-2452
202-225-2455
Rep. Jon Porter
(R-NV) 202-225-3252
202-225-2185
Rep. John Kline
(R-MN) 202-225-2271
202-225-2595
Rep. Marilyn Musgrave (R-CO) 202-225-4676
202-225-5870
Rep. Bob Inglis
(R-SC) 202-225-6030
202-225-1177
Rep. Cathy McMorris
(R-WA) 202-225-2006 202-225-3392
Rep. Kenny Marchant
(R-TX) 202-225-6605 202-225-0074
Rep. Tom Price
(R-GA) 202-225-4501
202-225-4656
Luis Fortuno
(R-PR) 202-225-2615
202-225-2154
Rep. Bobby Jindal
(R-LA) 202-225-3015 202-225-3015
Rep. Charles Boustany (R-LA) 202-225-2031
202-225-5724
Rep. Virginia Foxx
(R-NC) 202-225-2071 202-225-2995
Rep. Thelma Drake
(R-VA) 202-225-4215 202-225-4218
Rep. John (Randy) Kuhl
(R-NY) 202-225-3161 202-226-6599
Rep. Mark Edward Souder
(R-IN) 202-225-4436 202-225-3479
Rep. Dale E. Kildee
(D-MI) 202-225-3611 202-225-6393
Rep. Major R. Owens
(D-NY) 202-225-6231 202-226-0112
Rep. Donald M. Payne (D-NJ) 202-225-3436
202-225-4160
Rep. Robert E. Andrews
(D-NJ) 202-225-6501 202-225-6583
Rep. Bobby C. Scott
(D-VA) 202-225-8351 202-225-8354
Rep. Lynn C. Woolsey (D-CA) 202-225-5161
202-225-5163
Rep. Ruben Hinojosa
(D-TX) 202-225-2531 202-225-5688
Rep. Carolyn McCarthy (D-NY) 202-225-5516
202-225-5758
Rep. John Tierney
(D-MA) 202-225-8020 202-225-5915
Rep. Ron Kind
(D-WI) 202-225-5506
202-225-5739
Rep. Dennis J. Kucinich
(D-OH) 202-225-5871 202-225-5745
Rep. Rush Holt
(D-NJ) 202-225-5801
202-225-6025
Rep. David Wu
(D-OR) 202-225-0855
202-225-9497
Rep. Susan Davis
(D-CA) 202-225-2040
202-225-2948
Rep. Betty McCollum
(D-MN) 202-225-6631 202-225-1968
Rep. Danny Davis
(D-IL) 202-225-5006
202-225-5641
Rep. Raul Grijalva
(D-AZ) 202-225-2435 202-225-1541
Rep. Chris Van Hollen (D-MD) 202-225-5341
202-225-0375
Rep. Timothy J. Ryan (D-OH) 202-225-5261
202-225-3719
Rep. Timothy Bishop
(D-NY) 202-225-3826 202-225-3143
Rep. John Barrow
(D-GA) 202-225-2823
202-225-3377

Trick or treat

I know it’s early to be thinking about this, but for Halloween this year I’ve decided to go as the Cowboy Bomber from the State of the Union- er- Dr. Strangelove. Somehow, I seem to get those two confused…

The absence of outrage coming from Americans infuriates ME.

check out Little Red Shoes...

It’s amazing the power one voice can wield when soaring from the speakers into a chilly Chicago apartment. I spent the morning reading a magazine and generally feeling guilty about not working until I came across an article on theology- themed blogs. It’s sweet vindication when loafing magically begets RESEARCH. Decided to celebrate by listening to the new (to me) Loretta Lynn cd.

Rarely does a cd manage to make me this happy, but Van Lear Rose has led me to the instant giddy caffeine- fueled conclusion that more, MORE Country Goddess-Elders like fierce-tender Loretta should be encouraged, implored, compelled, bribed, begged- whatever it takes- to keep on recording. Would that Jack White vows to make it his life’s mission to ensconce the Grandeammes of country music in a loving embrace of thoughtful, refined productions like this one.

Runoff

A sopping wet day in Chicago. Winter took the day off, obliterating the grimy piles of snow that lingered for the duration of the first deep freeze. Walking home tonight I didn’t even need my coat. It’s practically sultry. I even got my key to turn in the front gate after two weeks of having to use my building’s back entrance. I love taking walks on days like this when so much moisture ssetles back into the earth. I have a thing for drainage, runoff, skirting the puddles, minding the paths worn in the snow, those invisible shifts to ice or slush. I like the patterns of exhaust and tire treads on white, the filthy gray crusts plastered to the curbs by snowplows.

On this strictly imitation spring day I just feel dehydrated, after an unantcipated season of Great Sex. Funny, I thought being in grad school would mean having little or none. What a relief that isn't the case.

Talk Show Mom

This morning I was unlucky enough to turn on the TV to find Oprah consoling the mother of Mattie Stepanek, the child poet and Oprah protige (or as the show’s website puts it, “Oprah’s special friend”) who died last year from complications related to a rare form of muscular dystrophy. Nestled between Oprah, John Travolta, and the other stars of Ladder 49, Mattie’s mom recounts the final tortured moments of her son’s life. Just as the shockwaves of disgust that now drench me begin to show signs of melting into sympathy, the camera angle shifts and I am stunned to see that, like her son, Jeni Stepanek uses a wheelchair.

I'm stunned because I cannot believe that a woman with a disability would subject her own child to the media’s faux- compassion mill, that gratuitous engine of exploitation that makes the larger portion of televised journalism unbearable.

I feel better now.

And, just what does John Travolta have to do with any of this? Turns out the kid liked firemen, and of course poetry, public speaking, girls, Jimmie Carter and... smoozing with big celebs. So I guess no one should mind that this memorial show should double as a promotional device.