There’s a new film out called "Please Give." I haven’t seen it yet, but the title itself is plenty provocative and controversial these days of program slashing and fomenting tea-partiers.
I was struck by two recent letters to the editor. One appeared in my hometown paper, the Claremont Courier, thanking those who attended and contributed to a fund-raiser for a local public elementary school. The other, appearing in the Los Angeles Times, had to do with a large donation by Hugh Hefner which will enable land next to the iconic Hollywood sign to be purchased, so that builders can’t develop it. The letter read, in part, "We have more homeless, unemployment is rising, education is suffering and our police and fire departments lack funding - and yet we have money for a sign. Yes, the sign is a monument of Hollywood, but so are the people of L.A. How about taking care of them?"
Maybe Mr. Hefner doesn’t care about the homeless and thinks the unemployed should fend for themselves. Maybe he rather save the Hollywood sign. Or maybe he already donates to the homeless, the unemployed, the schools, etc. After all, he has enough cash to spread around far and wide.
At about the same time that these two letters appeared, there was a massive free health clinic going on in a sports arena in Los Angeles. Thousands attended and got treatment, and while not as many were turned away as when the clinic was in L.A for the first time last year, some people did have to be turned away. Why? Because there still weren’t enough doctors and dentists volunteering during the week-long clinic.
Were there doctors and dentists who didn’t care or who didn’t want to take time off from their lucrative practices and work for free? On the other hand, there were doctors and dentists from other states wanted to come and volunteer and were frustrated that there are laws requiring a state’s license to work in a state.
The bottom line is that charity and volunteering are great and well worth cheering, but they can’t be relied upon. People are likely to give to a museum but probably not to the police or the sewer works. Or they may give to one school and not others. As if public schools should have to beg and rely on donations.
One argument that I heard constantly in the furor over healthcare insurance reform was, "I pay for my health insurance, thank you very much. Why should I pay for others’?" There are also thorny issues like some people not wanting to contribute to the public funding of abortion and others not wanting to fund war or the death penalty.
Putting these questions aside - if that’s possible - I have a question: I always hear people complaining about politicians who "tax and spend." Forgive me if I’m being naive, but why is it so wrong for government to "tax and spend?" I thought this is the purpose of government - to collect money from its citizens and then spend it where it is needed. Yes, there is abuse, which needs to be taken care of, but why would there be a government if it couldn’t tax, and why wouldn’t it spend the tax money?
Friday, May 7, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
On Medi-Cal - or not
It’s the waiting game, and I know a lot about playing it. I’m playing it now.
I went back to Casa Colina Hospital a couple weeks ago as part of an evaluation for a getting speech device - the Vmax by Dynavox. (See April 7 post.) This was the last appointment in the process, and now comes the hardest part.
Yep - waiting for Medi-Cal to approve - or not approve - my getting a Vmax (a reader has told me that "the device" sounds like a disease).
The three therapists who have now seen me - I have a team! - have (hopefully) written a report, endorsed by my physician, arguing why I should have the Vmax and submitted it to Medi-Cal. (The report was still being written as of last week, when I was called with a question.) I have been assured that my case is strong (gee, why do I feel like I’m on trial?). I’ve also been told that it will take only about a month for Medi-Cal to process the request, which, based on past experience, I find hard to believe.
Actually, the appointment two weeks ago wasn’t about the Vmax. It was about my wheelchair. The two therapists who had seen me were not happy with my chair, and so I had this appointment with a physical therapist and a wheelchair vendor. I went with some trepidation, fearing that they would want to get a chair in which my movement would be severely restricted, and I took a note explaining in detail what I want and don’t want in a chair and why I like the kind of chair I have. The P.T was completely cool, agreeing with my assessment. She had me get down on a mat, and I said I hadn’t been looked over so carefully since I was about 10 - literally. The wheelchair vendor was a rather amusing, opinionated woman who couldn’t get over how dirty and gross my chair was. (Okay - I’ve had it cleaned!) It was agreed that I should keep this chair and have it remodeled, with the back moved back, so I’m not thrust forward with my legs splaying, etc., and with more supportive footrests and a better cushion.
I was told that it will take several months for Medi-Cal to process the request for this remodeling, which makes more sense to me. It also fits with what a few people I have spoken to about this have theorized - the is, that Medi-Cal is more likely to take longer with and perhaps deny requests that are more common. In other words, unlike with a wheelchair or wheelchair repairs, it is easier to get a Vmax, despite its high expense, because the demand for it isn’t high. This sounds backwards, but it makes weird, logical, bureaucratic sense. (I was once told by Medi-Cal that I couldn’t get a new wheelchair, because I was getting too many repairs on the one I had.)
This is probably what’s behind the decision to stop Medi-Cal funding for dentistry, except for extractions, when California’s finances got even worse last year. Everyone on Medi-Cal needs dental care, making the demand all but overwhelming and, thus, too difficult. Speaking of Medi-Cal not paying for dental care, I recently called the dental surgery center where I have work done (I have to be put to sleep) and asked what I would have to pay. The answer was a shock: $1,200.
I thought briefly about going to the free medical and dental clinic going on now at the sports arena in Los Angeles. Thousands of people are going there, many coming from far away and waiting hours and even days, and thousands were turned away when the clinic took place last year. Then I remembered having to be put to sleep (because of my uncontrolled movements). Besides, I don’t want to wait in that line. Am I spoiled? In any case, the pictures of people waiting in line and getting care in factory lines, all in one of the world’s richest cities, is an eloquent answer to the loud, angry questions about why healthcare insurance reform is needed in this country.
I went back to Casa Colina Hospital a couple weeks ago as part of an evaluation for a getting speech device - the Vmax by Dynavox. (See April 7 post.) This was the last appointment in the process, and now comes the hardest part.
Yep - waiting for Medi-Cal to approve - or not approve - my getting a Vmax (a reader has told me that "the device" sounds like a disease).
The three therapists who have now seen me - I have a team! - have (hopefully) written a report, endorsed by my physician, arguing why I should have the Vmax and submitted it to Medi-Cal. (The report was still being written as of last week, when I was called with a question.) I have been assured that my case is strong (gee, why do I feel like I’m on trial?). I’ve also been told that it will take only about a month for Medi-Cal to process the request, which, based on past experience, I find hard to believe.
Actually, the appointment two weeks ago wasn’t about the Vmax. It was about my wheelchair. The two therapists who had seen me were not happy with my chair, and so I had this appointment with a physical therapist and a wheelchair vendor. I went with some trepidation, fearing that they would want to get a chair in which my movement would be severely restricted, and I took a note explaining in detail what I want and don’t want in a chair and why I like the kind of chair I have. The P.T was completely cool, agreeing with my assessment. She had me get down on a mat, and I said I hadn’t been looked over so carefully since I was about 10 - literally. The wheelchair vendor was a rather amusing, opinionated woman who couldn’t get over how dirty and gross my chair was. (Okay - I’ve had it cleaned!) It was agreed that I should keep this chair and have it remodeled, with the back moved back, so I’m not thrust forward with my legs splaying, etc., and with more supportive footrests and a better cushion.
I was told that it will take several months for Medi-Cal to process the request for this remodeling, which makes more sense to me. It also fits with what a few people I have spoken to about this have theorized - the is, that Medi-Cal is more likely to take longer with and perhaps deny requests that are more common. In other words, unlike with a wheelchair or wheelchair repairs, it is easier to get a Vmax, despite its high expense, because the demand for it isn’t high. This sounds backwards, but it makes weird, logical, bureaucratic sense. (I was once told by Medi-Cal that I couldn’t get a new wheelchair, because I was getting too many repairs on the one I had.)
This is probably what’s behind the decision to stop Medi-Cal funding for dentistry, except for extractions, when California’s finances got even worse last year. Everyone on Medi-Cal needs dental care, making the demand all but overwhelming and, thus, too difficult. Speaking of Medi-Cal not paying for dental care, I recently called the dental surgery center where I have work done (I have to be put to sleep) and asked what I would have to pay. The answer was a shock: $1,200.
I thought briefly about going to the free medical and dental clinic going on now at the sports arena in Los Angeles. Thousands of people are going there, many coming from far away and waiting hours and even days, and thousands were turned away when the clinic took place last year. Then I remembered having to be put to sleep (because of my uncontrolled movements). Besides, I don’t want to wait in that line. Am I spoiled? In any case, the pictures of people waiting in line and getting care in factory lines, all in one of the world’s richest cities, is an eloquent answer to the loud, angry questions about why healthcare insurance reform is needed in this country.
Friday, April 23, 2010
A thin - but saving - line
I was interested to read the obituary in yesterday’s Los Angeles Times marking the life of Dorothy Height, the black civil rights leader who died on Tuesday at age 98. Years ago, I saw her speak at one of the colleges here in Claremont, and I recall having only a vague sense that she was very important. (She did look very important, or at least grand, wearing a large, Sunday-best hat.)
Indeed, as was pointed out in the obituary, Ms. Height - she never married - was "overlooked" and "overshadowed" despite being considered to be the "Godmother of Civil Rights." Because of her gender, she was the seventh of a cadre of black civil rights leaders, including Martin Luther King, Roy Wilkins, James Farmer, John Lewis, A. Philip Randolph and Whitney Young, often referred to as the Group of Six.
Two incidents described in the obituary really caught my attention. In one incident, a police officer threatened her life when she defied his order to wait for a train in the "colored waiting room" rather than board with her white colleagues. "Don’t you go straight on that train or I’ll blow your brains out," the officer growled. Later, Roy Wilkins, one of the leaders of the NAACP, told her the she would have been dead if she was a man.
Perhaps being a woman was an advantage in this incident, but, in the other incident that stood out for me, it was a real disadvantage. In organizing the historic March on Washington, Bayard Rustin insisted that no woman should speak, arguing that women were part of all the groups represented. Ms. Height commented, "Mr. Rustin’s stance showed us that men honestly didn’t see their position as patriarchal or patronizing. They were happy to include in the human family, but there was no question as to who headed the household!"
No doubt Ms. Height was thinking what I’m thinking: Bayard Rustin, of all people.
It is said that hate stems from ignorance, along with fear. I’d like to think that these two incidents show that hate and ignorance don’t always go together, that ignorance doesn’t always lead to hate.
Bayard Rustin was gay, and, because of this, he too was marginalized in the black civil rights movement. He knew what it was like to be even more of an outsider; indeed, he was once arrested for homosexual behavior. I’d like to think that, unlike the police officer at the train station, Mr. Rustin, who was also a Quaker, was simply being ignorant and not hateful when he denied Ms. Height and other women the opposite to speak at the Washington, D.C rally. (Mahalia Jackson did get to sing the national anthem.) Ms. Height, who did most of her work with the National Council of Negro Women, implied the in saying that "men honestly didn’t see" what they were doing.
I’d also like to think that this is what is happening with same-sex marriage bans - that they will be rejected as more people know gay people. In California, Proposition 8 passed by less of a margin than the earlier Proposition 22, and it is thought that it can be overturned by voters in a few years. This seems to be in contrast to the hateful, apartheid-like bill approved by the Arizona legislature targeting illegal immigrants, even as more and more people accept their existence and agree they should be dealt with fairly.
Indeed, as was pointed out in the obituary, Ms. Height - she never married - was "overlooked" and "overshadowed" despite being considered to be the "Godmother of Civil Rights." Because of her gender, she was the seventh of a cadre of black civil rights leaders, including Martin Luther King, Roy Wilkins, James Farmer, John Lewis, A. Philip Randolph and Whitney Young, often referred to as the Group of Six.
Two incidents described in the obituary really caught my attention. In one incident, a police officer threatened her life when she defied his order to wait for a train in the "colored waiting room" rather than board with her white colleagues. "Don’t you go straight on that train or I’ll blow your brains out," the officer growled. Later, Roy Wilkins, one of the leaders of the NAACP, told her the she would have been dead if she was a man.
Perhaps being a woman was an advantage in this incident, but, in the other incident that stood out for me, it was a real disadvantage. In organizing the historic March on Washington, Bayard Rustin insisted that no woman should speak, arguing that women were part of all the groups represented. Ms. Height commented, "Mr. Rustin’s stance showed us that men honestly didn’t see their position as patriarchal or patronizing. They were happy to include in the human family, but there was no question as to who headed the household!"
No doubt Ms. Height was thinking what I’m thinking: Bayard Rustin, of all people.
It is said that hate stems from ignorance, along with fear. I’d like to think that these two incidents show that hate and ignorance don’t always go together, that ignorance doesn’t always lead to hate.
Bayard Rustin was gay, and, because of this, he too was marginalized in the black civil rights movement. He knew what it was like to be even more of an outsider; indeed, he was once arrested for homosexual behavior. I’d like to think that, unlike the police officer at the train station, Mr. Rustin, who was also a Quaker, was simply being ignorant and not hateful when he denied Ms. Height and other women the opposite to speak at the Washington, D.C rally. (Mahalia Jackson did get to sing the national anthem.) Ms. Height, who did most of her work with the National Council of Negro Women, implied the in saying that "men honestly didn’t see" what they were doing.
I’d also like to think that this is what is happening with same-sex marriage bans - that they will be rejected as more people know gay people. In California, Proposition 8 passed by less of a margin than the earlier Proposition 22, and it is thought that it can be overturned by voters in a few years. This seems to be in contrast to the hateful, apartheid-like bill approved by the Arizona legislature targeting illegal immigrants, even as more and more people accept their existence and agree they should be dealt with fairly.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Beware the Santa
I recently watched the PBS program with Tavis Smiley examining the sermon given by Martin Luther King, Jr., exactly a year before his assassination, in which he denounced the war in Vietnam. Unlike King’s "I have a dream" and "Mountaintop" speeches, this April 4, 1967 sermon, delivered in New York City’s Riverside Church, isn’t talked about much these days. Although it was arguably more powerful, this speech, demanding that justice requires peace, was dangerous.
The speech made King a villain in the white community, including President Johnson, who had been a friend and strong ally. Even the black community was upset with him. Everyone said he should have stuck with civil rights and not get involved with foreign affairs. One King associate interviewed on the program opined that King was killed because of the sermon.
Yet, King is now remembered quite fondly and lauded, almost as a saint and also a martyr. There are schools and streets named for him, and his birthday is a national holiday. How did M.L.K go from being a pariah to being a hero?
We have forgotten - conveniently - that King was a man, a man who was passionate and full of feelings, including anger. We ignore the fact that his soothing message of non-violence was something that he strove for and didn’t preclude strong opinions and emotions. We have sanitized him. As Harvard University black studies professor Cornell West explained to Smiley on the program, there has been a "Santa Clausification" of King. "He now comes with a bag of treats for the kiddies."
Not unlike, it has occurred to me, what has happened with Jesus.
It’s not that Jesus now hands out toys. In fact, to the contrary, he is, to a not insignificant number of people, a stern master who with-holds love and acceptance from those who don’t conform to a certain code of people. The condemnation of gay people in his name is an example of this.
Nevertheless, this wasn’t who Jesus was at all. Jesus was all about love and about reaching out to the other and the enemy. He also wasn’t some pious, prissy follower of rules. No, Jesus was a radical, a hippie (as the patches sewn onto my bibs say), who broke rules, who knocked over the tables of the money-changers in the temple. Furthermore, in being so, he was a man who got furious, had temper tantrums, and who questioned God and wept bitterly.
And he laughed. Taped onto the wall above my desk is a drawing of Jesus laughing, sent to me from a friend who said it was from Playboy magazine. My friend said that when the drawing appeared, Playboy got more hate mail than for any other item it had published.
So I guess Jesus can’t laugh (and be human and sexual). Funny what people want Jesus - and M.L.K - to be.
The speech made King a villain in the white community, including President Johnson, who had been a friend and strong ally. Even the black community was upset with him. Everyone said he should have stuck with civil rights and not get involved with foreign affairs. One King associate interviewed on the program opined that King was killed because of the sermon.
Yet, King is now remembered quite fondly and lauded, almost as a saint and also a martyr. There are schools and streets named for him, and his birthday is a national holiday. How did M.L.K go from being a pariah to being a hero?
We have forgotten - conveniently - that King was a man, a man who was passionate and full of feelings, including anger. We ignore the fact that his soothing message of non-violence was something that he strove for and didn’t preclude strong opinions and emotions. We have sanitized him. As Harvard University black studies professor Cornell West explained to Smiley on the program, there has been a "Santa Clausification" of King. "He now comes with a bag of treats for the kiddies."
Not unlike, it has occurred to me, what has happened with Jesus.
It’s not that Jesus now hands out toys. In fact, to the contrary, he is, to a not insignificant number of people, a stern master who with-holds love and acceptance from those who don’t conform to a certain code of people. The condemnation of gay people in his name is an example of this.
Nevertheless, this wasn’t who Jesus was at all. Jesus was all about love and about reaching out to the other and the enemy. He also wasn’t some pious, prissy follower of rules. No, Jesus was a radical, a hippie (as the patches sewn onto my bibs say), who broke rules, who knocked over the tables of the money-changers in the temple. Furthermore, in being so, he was a man who got furious, had temper tantrums, and who questioned God and wept bitterly.
And he laughed. Taped onto the wall above my desk is a drawing of Jesus laughing, sent to me from a friend who said it was from Playboy magazine. My friend said that when the drawing appeared, Playboy got more hate mail than for any other item it had published.
So I guess Jesus can’t laugh (and be human and sexual). Funny what people want Jesus - and M.L.K - to be.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Keeping on with the talking
Last week, I returned to Casa Colina Hospital to continue the evaluation for a speech device. (See "Talking Needs" post, March 25) An occupational therapist joined the speech therapist and the representative from Dynavox for the session that was nearly two hours. It looks like I’ll be getting the device; I was signing a number of documents at the end that looked plenty official.
I continue to be surprised that Medi-Cal will pay for the device (or nearly all of it - see below), and I all but said so. It feels to me like the women at the hospital have been living in a cave and haven’t been reading and hearing what I keep reading and hearing about the state budget crisis and all the things Medi-Cal isn’t paying for, but, brushing aside my concerns, they insisted I need the device and said that they have a very strong case. Okay. I mentioned that I’m a Regional Center client, and they said this would be a back-up funding source.
Several other things came up during the session:
*I was frustrated, because I was having a harder time using the device than I did the first time around, but the women said I was doing fine and were, in fact, impressed. No doubt I was anxious as well as impatient and hard on myself - nothing new there. I also was a bit tired, which made me more aware that the device will require some heightened effort from me and that there will be times that it may be less effective. In addition, I realized later that I am worried that friends - and perhaps I - will think I will be able to rattle off comments with the device and will be disappointed when I won’t. (Stephen Hawkins pre-sets his comments - I asked.) Yes, I’ll get better with practice, but it is important for all to remember the device will be just another tool - a very powerful, easier-to-use tool, but still a tool.
*Speaking of a powerful tool, I found out something very cool about the device; it is, or can be, essentially a P.C. For a nominal fee, not covered by Medi-Cal, I can use it to write, e-mail, go on-line, read books, etc. It will be like having a laptop attached to my wheelchair. I can see myself doing work or e-mail on my patio or in the park! I can even turn on lights and my T.V with it.
*The therapists continued to be not happy with my wheelchair, so I have an appointment next week for a wheelchair evaluation. They say I will be better able to use the device in another chair, but I am wary. I suspect that what I like about my wheelchair - that I can move around in it (lean over, stretch my legs, raise my butt up, etc.) - is what they don’t like about it, and I don’t want to be pinned down or trapped in a chair. I will see what they have in mind and hear them out, but I’ll also make it clear what I want and don’t want in a wheelchair. While I am very grateful for - and moved by - all the attention and care that I am getting, I do not want to be told what to do or taken over.
One more thing: I was at a potluck on Sunday, and no one sat by me. In addition to wondering if it was because of the messy way I eat and if my attendant should feed me in such a situation, I thought about probably not being able to use the device while I eat.
I continue to be surprised that Medi-Cal will pay for the device (or nearly all of it - see below), and I all but said so. It feels to me like the women at the hospital have been living in a cave and haven’t been reading and hearing what I keep reading and hearing about the state budget crisis and all the things Medi-Cal isn’t paying for, but, brushing aside my concerns, they insisted I need the device and said that they have a very strong case. Okay. I mentioned that I’m a Regional Center client, and they said this would be a back-up funding source.
Several other things came up during the session:
*I was frustrated, because I was having a harder time using the device than I did the first time around, but the women said I was doing fine and were, in fact, impressed. No doubt I was anxious as well as impatient and hard on myself - nothing new there. I also was a bit tired, which made me more aware that the device will require some heightened effort from me and that there will be times that it may be less effective. In addition, I realized later that I am worried that friends - and perhaps I - will think I will be able to rattle off comments with the device and will be disappointed when I won’t. (Stephen Hawkins pre-sets his comments - I asked.) Yes, I’ll get better with practice, but it is important for all to remember the device will be just another tool - a very powerful, easier-to-use tool, but still a tool.
*Speaking of a powerful tool, I found out something very cool about the device; it is, or can be, essentially a P.C. For a nominal fee, not covered by Medi-Cal, I can use it to write, e-mail, go on-line, read books, etc. It will be like having a laptop attached to my wheelchair. I can see myself doing work or e-mail on my patio or in the park! I can even turn on lights and my T.V with it.
*The therapists continued to be not happy with my wheelchair, so I have an appointment next week for a wheelchair evaluation. They say I will be better able to use the device in another chair, but I am wary. I suspect that what I like about my wheelchair - that I can move around in it (lean over, stretch my legs, raise my butt up, etc.) - is what they don’t like about it, and I don’t want to be pinned down or trapped in a chair. I will see what they have in mind and hear them out, but I’ll also make it clear what I want and don’t want in a wheelchair. While I am very grateful for - and moved by - all the attention and care that I am getting, I do not want to be told what to do or taken over.
One more thing: I was at a potluck on Sunday, and no one sat by me. In addition to wondering if it was because of the messy way I eat and if my attendant should feed me in such a situation, I thought about probably not being able to use the device while I eat.
Friday, March 26, 2010
What about them?
In this season of new life, promise and renewal, here is a recent column of mine published in the Claremont Courier.
LOVING THE NEIGHBOR WE DON’T LIKE
"We should treat sexual predators no different than murderers. Sexual predators should be put away for life. Period."
Period?
These are strong words, and "period" is the strongest, making the rest of the words all the stronger. And they, and other such words, are being heard more and more. No doubt they are heard in Claremont.
But does Claremont really want to say "period?"
These words aren’t from Claremont. They are part of a letter appearing two weeks ago in the Los Angeles Times, written in response to the rape and murder of Chelsea King, a high school student in northern San Diego County. The writer is from Chino.
Yes, the person who abducted Chelsea King (allegedly a man who may have killed another teenaged girl) was a killer as well as a sexual offender, but I have no doubt the writer’s words would have been just as strong if the person was just a sexual offender. And I’m pretty sure that Claremont, in this case, may well have been Chino. I could easily see this letter written here. For better or for worse.
This is a town that can’t even stand having a 7-11. For better or for worse.
Much more than even the outcry years ago over the opening of a Starbucks in the Village, the uproar over the proposed 7-11 convenience store, which would be open late at night and sell alcoholic beverages, at Foothill and Mills proves that Claremont goes out of its way to protect its image as a nice, clean, safe town. Never mind that there are two similar mini-marts a block away. Never mind that there is a 7-11 store on Foothill Boulevard in Pomona just outside Claremont. Never mind that Claremont can really use the sales tax from such a store.
The argument that a store selling liquor, much less at all hours, shouldn’t be across the street from the colleges makes the most sense, but let’s not kid ourselves. For one thing, does anyone think that the kegs at the big parties at the colleges are filled with root beer? I was once at a meeting of theater students where a party featuring 100 bottles of wine was being planned.
In any case, not wanting a store in Claremont is one thing. Not wanting a person in Claremont is another thing.
Of course, we don’t want anyone like who raped and killed Chelsea King living here. If any such thing happened in Claremont, there would be shock and outrage, to say the very least. And rightly so. Claremont takes great pride in being a good, safe place for raising a family, a good, safe place to grow up in. (It should be noted that Chelsea King lived in a gated community.)
I remember protests in Claremont over rapists and child molesters living here. Some years ago, a convicted child molester living in La Verne voluntarily returned to prison, because there was so much tension, including in Claremont, over him living there.
New laws have made it virtually impossible for released sexual offenders to live in the community. There are so many places - parks, schools, libraries, churches - that they can’t live near. In addition, where they live is made public. They are all but driven out of town. Any town.
To where they can’t get the help and support and the sense of community and belonging there so clearly need. To where they have more loneliness, more hurt and anger and all the more reason to lash out.
Is it just better to not let these people go after they serve their time? Is it just better to lock them up and throw away the keys? Or to just kill them, as obviously dangerous and worthless people?
And what about Marcia Meier’s brother? He’s pretty scary.
Ms. Meier writes about her brother in an op-ed piece that appeared a bit earlier in the Times, on February 28:
"He is agitated. Someone is trying to harm him, take his money. He’s going down to the sheriff’s office. He’s serious. He’s going to take a gun and shoot somebody if those people don’t back off.... And so my brother...is gesturing wildly, storming about the yard. I am wary. He threatened to kill me once.
"I look at him. Reed thin. Hollow cheeks. Half his teeth are gone. He is 52."
It looks like this guy should be put away, locked up with the key thrown away. He is definitely bad news, a real danger.
But, as Ms. Meier writes, her brother "lives in a world of shifting realities, voices and paranoia." He is mentally ill and disabled. He has severe schizophrenia and needs help.
Being in prison isn’t what he needs.
Ms. Meier worries about what her brother needs and how he will get it. Ms. Meier writes that her brother has been in and out of jail for petty crimes and that he has done drugs. She writes about how he lives - barely - on Supplemental Security Income and about how their mother always helped him out, buying stuff and paying a bill here and there. She writes that their mother has died and that she is now the one looking out for her brother.
Who, she wonders, will care for him when she no longer can? Will anyone?
I wonder if Claremont would. I wonder if there’s a place in Claremont for this man if he wanted to live here. I wonder if he would be welcomed, would be part of the community, here.
Some years ago, Claremont decided to restrict the number and location of group homes for the developmentally disabled here in town, saying they can’t be less than a considerable number of feet away from each other. To this day, I still don’t understand what it is about the developmentally disabled - which I technically am - that their presence have to be so limited.
At about the same time, there was much tension over a proposal to house developmentally disabled criminals at Lanterman State Hospital (now in the process of being closed down). A San Dimas man stated at a public hearing that he was concerned about a man "with a carrot for a brain" escaping and causing harm.
What I want to know is this: How much harm can a carrot-brained man concoct and accomplish? That is, if he can manage to get anywhere. Or are we, even in our post-9/11, on-guard society, that scared and paralyzed?
LOVING THE NEIGHBOR WE DON’T LIKE
"We should treat sexual predators no different than murderers. Sexual predators should be put away for life. Period."
Period?
These are strong words, and "period" is the strongest, making the rest of the words all the stronger. And they, and other such words, are being heard more and more. No doubt they are heard in Claremont.
But does Claremont really want to say "period?"
These words aren’t from Claremont. They are part of a letter appearing two weeks ago in the Los Angeles Times, written in response to the rape and murder of Chelsea King, a high school student in northern San Diego County. The writer is from Chino.
Yes, the person who abducted Chelsea King (allegedly a man who may have killed another teenaged girl) was a killer as well as a sexual offender, but I have no doubt the writer’s words would have been just as strong if the person was just a sexual offender. And I’m pretty sure that Claremont, in this case, may well have been Chino. I could easily see this letter written here. For better or for worse.
This is a town that can’t even stand having a 7-11. For better or for worse.
Much more than even the outcry years ago over the opening of a Starbucks in the Village, the uproar over the proposed 7-11 convenience store, which would be open late at night and sell alcoholic beverages, at Foothill and Mills proves that Claremont goes out of its way to protect its image as a nice, clean, safe town. Never mind that there are two similar mini-marts a block away. Never mind that there is a 7-11 store on Foothill Boulevard in Pomona just outside Claremont. Never mind that Claremont can really use the sales tax from such a store.
The argument that a store selling liquor, much less at all hours, shouldn’t be across the street from the colleges makes the most sense, but let’s not kid ourselves. For one thing, does anyone think that the kegs at the big parties at the colleges are filled with root beer? I was once at a meeting of theater students where a party featuring 100 bottles of wine was being planned.
In any case, not wanting a store in Claremont is one thing. Not wanting a person in Claremont is another thing.
Of course, we don’t want anyone like who raped and killed Chelsea King living here. If any such thing happened in Claremont, there would be shock and outrage, to say the very least. And rightly so. Claremont takes great pride in being a good, safe place for raising a family, a good, safe place to grow up in. (It should be noted that Chelsea King lived in a gated community.)
I remember protests in Claremont over rapists and child molesters living here. Some years ago, a convicted child molester living in La Verne voluntarily returned to prison, because there was so much tension, including in Claremont, over him living there.
New laws have made it virtually impossible for released sexual offenders to live in the community. There are so many places - parks, schools, libraries, churches - that they can’t live near. In addition, where they live is made public. They are all but driven out of town. Any town.
To where they can’t get the help and support and the sense of community and belonging there so clearly need. To where they have more loneliness, more hurt and anger and all the more reason to lash out.
Is it just better to not let these people go after they serve their time? Is it just better to lock them up and throw away the keys? Or to just kill them, as obviously dangerous and worthless people?
And what about Marcia Meier’s brother? He’s pretty scary.
Ms. Meier writes about her brother in an op-ed piece that appeared a bit earlier in the Times, on February 28:
"He is agitated. Someone is trying to harm him, take his money. He’s going down to the sheriff’s office. He’s serious. He’s going to take a gun and shoot somebody if those people don’t back off.... And so my brother...is gesturing wildly, storming about the yard. I am wary. He threatened to kill me once.
"I look at him. Reed thin. Hollow cheeks. Half his teeth are gone. He is 52."
It looks like this guy should be put away, locked up with the key thrown away. He is definitely bad news, a real danger.
But, as Ms. Meier writes, her brother "lives in a world of shifting realities, voices and paranoia." He is mentally ill and disabled. He has severe schizophrenia and needs help.
Being in prison isn’t what he needs.
Ms. Meier worries about what her brother needs and how he will get it. Ms. Meier writes that her brother has been in and out of jail for petty crimes and that he has done drugs. She writes about how he lives - barely - on Supplemental Security Income and about how their mother always helped him out, buying stuff and paying a bill here and there. She writes that their mother has died and that she is now the one looking out for her brother.
Who, she wonders, will care for him when she no longer can? Will anyone?
I wonder if Claremont would. I wonder if there’s a place in Claremont for this man if he wanted to live here. I wonder if he would be welcomed, would be part of the community, here.
Some years ago, Claremont decided to restrict the number and location of group homes for the developmentally disabled here in town, saying they can’t be less than a considerable number of feet away from each other. To this day, I still don’t understand what it is about the developmentally disabled - which I technically am - that their presence have to be so limited.
At about the same time, there was much tension over a proposal to house developmentally disabled criminals at Lanterman State Hospital (now in the process of being closed down). A San Dimas man stated at a public hearing that he was concerned about a man "with a carrot for a brain" escaping and causing harm.
What I want to know is this: How much harm can a carrot-brained man concoct and accomplish? That is, if he can manage to get anywhere. Or are we, even in our post-9/11, on-guard society, that scared and paralyzed?
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Talking needs
Last week, I went to be evaluated for a speech device at Casa Colina Hospital for Rehabilitative Medicine, a very well-regarded institution not far from here (in fact, I traveled there in my wheelchair, and I work out in a gym there twice a week). This had been a long time coming, with friends encouraging me to do this for at least a year and my calling for an appointment in October. To say the least, Wednesday afternoon was eye-opening, making the wait totally worthwhile. I was quite impressed, in every sense.
When I went, I took a note that I had typed, explaining that I had used a LightWriter, a voice synthesizer with a small typewriter keyboard, for about five years but that it ended up being frustrating and tedious, that the letter board that I use is only a bit better and that friends have asked me why I don’t have a device like Stephen Hawkins uses. Meeting with me were a speech therapist and a young woman from Dynavox, which designs and makes a variety of speech devices, and both clearly knew what they were doing. Within five or ten minutes, they totally "got" me.
I have to say that this was most refreshing. It hasn’t been since I was in elementary school that I received such caring and thoughtful attention in regard to my disability and what I need to make it easier to deal with it. The two women were even ready to order me a new wheelchair ("Look at the chair you’re in!"), although they agreed that I’m happy with and used to the chair I have! (See - I didn’t have this kind of evaluation when I got this chair.)
I like it that they quickly saw that, yes, I can type with a finger, but using my finger on even a touch screen is too much work and not practical in a conversation. I like it that, when I said I hate using a key-guard (I get my finger caught), they didn’t have me try one. I like it that they quickly saw that, even though I can easily click, push a button, flip a switch or whatever with my finger, my elbow, my knee or whatever (but probably not my eyebrow), it would be too tricky and not practical in a conversation. I like it that, for the most part, they didn’t argue with me or try to tell me I wasn’t trying or working hard enough.
So they had me try the eye thing, which involves a camera that follows my eye movements to operate a mouse on a screen that can feature a keyboard, words, phrases and predicted words. This pretty much drove me crazy and was clearly not practical. Later, I realized that this works with people like Stephen Hawkins who essentially can’t move, whereas my body, including my head, is in constant motion, and isolating my eyes is a real challenge - something like following the eyes on a bobble-head. (But I don’t understand how Hawkins "speaks" without pauses. Does he pre-program all his statements - even his replies in a conversation?)
Next came a sticker on my forehead, which the camera followed. So I looked like a Hindu, but that’s cool, because it worked! This may be the jackpot. Yes, I will need to practice, will need to try harder and work harder, but, with my getting noticeably better in the short time I used the device, especially when I sat up straight in my wheelchair, I have a clear sense that this effort will make things easier in my life. (Among other things, in addition to getting better at using the device, I’ll have to keep a supply of stickers and make sure one stays on my forehead, like when I sweat, and figure out what hats I can still wear. Also, after a lifetime of thinking out lots of what I say, spontaneous conversation will be almost a new world and an interesting challenge.)
The two women were almost more excited than I was. They saw me as a project, an unique challenge, with great potential. Calling me a "complicated case," they wanted to set up another appointment, also including an occupational therapist, requiring another prescription from my doctor. The Dynavox rep said she is even willing to get up early and drive through the morning rush-hour traffic from Long Beach for a 9 a.m appointment with me. I asked them point-blank if I am eligible for this device, even though they could kind of understand my speech, and they said, "Oh, yeah," that I "definitely" am.
When I left the two-hour session, I was drained and exhausted, and I went home with a bunch of feelings. Some were positive:
INTERESTED, FASCINATED - What is available now is really amazing, jaw-dropping.
EXCITED - Wow! I see my life getting easier and many possibilities, doors opening, etc.
HOPEFUL - This may well happen.
And some were negative:
FRUSTRATION, ANXIETY - This is taking so long! I just found out, finally, that my next appointment is on Tuesday. (The new prescription and occupational therapist were rounded up.) And, yes, I’ve been assured that the case for me getting the device is strong, especially with an occasional therapist chiming in, but what if Medi-Cal won’t pay for it? I keep hearing about what Medi-Cal won’t pay for and am amazed that it is paying for these appointments. If Medi-Cal does pay for the device, it will probably take months.
ANGER AND SADNESS - I shouldn’t be worried about all this. I should just get the help I clearly need to live the fullest, most productive life I can. Also, why didn’t I get this device years, if not decades, ago? Why was typing on the LightWriter deemed best for me? Why wasn’t this device considered at all? Or was I too proud and stubborn? Come to think of it, why, when I was in elementary school, did therapists make me spend hours dressing myself, and why did another squeeze my lips while I ate canned peaches, trying to get me to eat with my mouth closed? I don’t want to cry abuse, but....
When I went, I took a note that I had typed, explaining that I had used a LightWriter, a voice synthesizer with a small typewriter keyboard, for about five years but that it ended up being frustrating and tedious, that the letter board that I use is only a bit better and that friends have asked me why I don’t have a device like Stephen Hawkins uses. Meeting with me were a speech therapist and a young woman from Dynavox, which designs and makes a variety of speech devices, and both clearly knew what they were doing. Within five or ten minutes, they totally "got" me.
I have to say that this was most refreshing. It hasn’t been since I was in elementary school that I received such caring and thoughtful attention in regard to my disability and what I need to make it easier to deal with it. The two women were even ready to order me a new wheelchair ("Look at the chair you’re in!"), although they agreed that I’m happy with and used to the chair I have! (See - I didn’t have this kind of evaluation when I got this chair.)
I like it that they quickly saw that, yes, I can type with a finger, but using my finger on even a touch screen is too much work and not practical in a conversation. I like it that, when I said I hate using a key-guard (I get my finger caught), they didn’t have me try one. I like it that they quickly saw that, even though I can easily click, push a button, flip a switch or whatever with my finger, my elbow, my knee or whatever (but probably not my eyebrow), it would be too tricky and not practical in a conversation. I like it that, for the most part, they didn’t argue with me or try to tell me I wasn’t trying or working hard enough.
So they had me try the eye thing, which involves a camera that follows my eye movements to operate a mouse on a screen that can feature a keyboard, words, phrases and predicted words. This pretty much drove me crazy and was clearly not practical. Later, I realized that this works with people like Stephen Hawkins who essentially can’t move, whereas my body, including my head, is in constant motion, and isolating my eyes is a real challenge - something like following the eyes on a bobble-head. (But I don’t understand how Hawkins "speaks" without pauses. Does he pre-program all his statements - even his replies in a conversation?)
Next came a sticker on my forehead, which the camera followed. So I looked like a Hindu, but that’s cool, because it worked! This may be the jackpot. Yes, I will need to practice, will need to try harder and work harder, but, with my getting noticeably better in the short time I used the device, especially when I sat up straight in my wheelchair, I have a clear sense that this effort will make things easier in my life. (Among other things, in addition to getting better at using the device, I’ll have to keep a supply of stickers and make sure one stays on my forehead, like when I sweat, and figure out what hats I can still wear. Also, after a lifetime of thinking out lots of what I say, spontaneous conversation will be almost a new world and an interesting challenge.)
The two women were almost more excited than I was. They saw me as a project, an unique challenge, with great potential. Calling me a "complicated case," they wanted to set up another appointment, also including an occupational therapist, requiring another prescription from my doctor. The Dynavox rep said she is even willing to get up early and drive through the morning rush-hour traffic from Long Beach for a 9 a.m appointment with me. I asked them point-blank if I am eligible for this device, even though they could kind of understand my speech, and they said, "Oh, yeah," that I "definitely" am.
When I left the two-hour session, I was drained and exhausted, and I went home with a bunch of feelings. Some were positive:
INTERESTED, FASCINATED - What is available now is really amazing, jaw-dropping.
EXCITED - Wow! I see my life getting easier and many possibilities, doors opening, etc.
HOPEFUL - This may well happen.
And some were negative:
FRUSTRATION, ANXIETY - This is taking so long! I just found out, finally, that my next appointment is on Tuesday. (The new prescription and occupational therapist were rounded up.) And, yes, I’ve been assured that the case for me getting the device is strong, especially with an occasional therapist chiming in, but what if Medi-Cal won’t pay for it? I keep hearing about what Medi-Cal won’t pay for and am amazed that it is paying for these appointments. If Medi-Cal does pay for the device, it will probably take months.
ANGER AND SADNESS - I shouldn’t be worried about all this. I should just get the help I clearly need to live the fullest, most productive life I can. Also, why didn’t I get this device years, if not decades, ago? Why was typing on the LightWriter deemed best for me? Why wasn’t this device considered at all? Or was I too proud and stubborn? Come to think of it, why, when I was in elementary school, did therapists make me spend hours dressing myself, and why did another squeeze my lips while I ate canned peaches, trying to get me to eat with my mouth closed? I don’t want to cry abuse, but....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)