How one looks at a Disability, a Personal View

The latest brouhaha on some Autism sites is Greta Thunberg and her diagnosis of "high functioning Autism" or Asperber's Syndrome. To add to the controversy, Trump ridiculed Greta, obviously not showing the same respect we give his youngest son. Back to Greta--first and foremost, I do not know her. I have not seen her neurodevelopmental or psychological assessments. I do not know the adults supporting her and for what reason. So these are major caveats. She is a young person who is still developing. If I had been analyzed at 16, the conclusions would not be the same as an analysis of me at 26, 36, 46, etc.

To quote someone who wrote on Facebook--"She doesn't have the kind of Autism I see at my house." I could not say it better than that. Surely, she may have social issues, and that could be the reason why she has shunned school. Or she could be an angel or a child prodigy put on earth for us to come to our senses. I do not criticize her opinions or actions. For the most part, I agree with her.

I take umbrage with the idea that high functioning individuals truly are disabled. I am not including individuals who are blind, deaf, or physically handicapped. These people certainly are able to function at a very high level and still have a physical disability. To have a disability, such as Attention Deficit Disorder, Autism Spectrum Disorder, Dyslexia, one must be disabled. If one has completed post secondary college levels or vocational education and has landed a job as an engineer, doctor, professor, writer, artist, plumber, electrician, etc. and is living a reasonably good life, one is not genuinely disabled. One may have issues, problems, concerns, and limitations. However, there are millions in our country who are sitting at home, languishing on the streets, or scrounging out a living due to some disability; could be Autism or any other number of diseases. A disability is not an excuse for not being at the top of the heap; an authentic handicapping condition impacts life at a fundamental level.
Autism is a serious, severe brain disorder, which is now viewed as a spectrum. I do not believe the originators of this diagnostic category or researchers of this condition foresaw that highly successful individuals would be categorized with this disability. Of course, there are a few rare exceptions. But let us focus on those who need our help. Let us shine the light on them, not on the rare genius who makes all of us feel good.

Not one of us is as successful or happy as we would like to be. We all display dysfunctional behavior. We have oddities, anxieties, weird habits, and strange quirks. But we do not qualify as having a serious neurological disability.

The difference is impact. What is the impact of our psychological or learning problems on our lives? Can we overcome our weaknesses? Can professional help alleviate the impact and facilitate improvement, such as the disorder does not interfere with our living? Is most of our life proceeding smoothly, positively, and productively? If the answer is "yes", one has overcome one's disability. One may be vulnerable for a recurrence and a reapplication of the diagnostic code.

The DSM--5 is the current source for diagnostic criteria of Autism Spectrum Disorder. This section most clearly decribes the impact of the disorder; here is the decription at its mildest level.

"Without supports in place, deficits in social communication cause noticeable impairments. Difficulty initiating social interactions, and clear examples of atypical or unsuccessful response to social overtures of others. May appear to have decreased interest in social interactions. For example, a person who is able to speak in full sentences and engages in communication but whose to- and-fro conversation with others fails, and whose attempts to make friends are odd and typically unsuccessful."

"Inflexibility of behavior causes significant interference with functioning in one or more contexts. Difficulty switching between activities. Problems of organization and planning hamper independent living.

"Supports", "decreased interest in social interaction", "problems making friends", "difficulty switching between activities"; "hamper independent living". These are the watchwords that distinguish a disabilty from an "issue", etc. 

In conclusion, our research, funds, educational and vocational programs/opportunities should be for the most needy, not for those with issues most easily solved. We are attempting to help people not look for poster children or sound bites.

Another Shooting, Another Week with a Thoughtless Leader

      I feel angry and sad that we have a President who does not care a whit about anything of value, and there are so many kids who shoot up their schools. We only hear about the actual shootings. Certainly, there are potential events that are averted. Several years back, the President's wife wore a jacket that said "I don't care". She claimed it was a brand logo or design. I think this sentiment is where my thoughts come together--caring for others, seeing what is front of us.
     How can "we" not notice these disturbed people? There must be someone who observed something off-kilter with the youth, who killed his peers and himself, but was afraid or just did not think to delve further. I think there is a certain prototype of individual that engages in these shootings, acts of violence and cowardice. I hope the Psychologists are studying this awful phenomenon. The perpetrators are actually not mentally ill or sick with a major mental illness, according to experts. Rather, very unhealthy emotionally bereft people who have access to firearms. Often, there is a history of gun use in the immediate environment. For example, this kid's father was an avid,"big game" hunter and abusive to his wife. 
     Obviously, we are missing something as a society. Often, the youngsters, mostly boys, are very smart and quiet. These kids do not receive much attention in school. Probably, their parent(s), teachers, and coaches are overlooking aberrant behavior, since the child is not causing trouble. Our society is obsessed with "bright" kids, so smart and depressed, disturbed children go unnoticed. Neighbors, friends, and teachers are afraid to communicate concern to parents for various reasons--legal, discomfort, fearful of reaction from parents, reluctance to get involved. 
     This teenager was a model student/youth, so that is not where the problem lies in this case. Violent computer and video games and movies seem to contribute to gun violence, but research does not support this theory. Spending time alone, staring at a computer screen for hours, must be harmful for a developing brain.
      "When people assail me. They shall stumble and fall." (Psalm 27)
     Perhaps, we are living in a time where God, a higher power, or Life is drawing our focus to evil, in the form of individuals who facilitate and committ senseless acts of violence. Maybe, we have been lollygagging and skipping along, consuming new devices, wearing new styles, traveling, eating/drinking, reading and not paying heed to what is happening in our own backyards. We are so busy praising children that we forget that admonishing them may be more important. Everyone on their phones, including babies, leads to a clueless society. So does worrying about the consequences of hurting people's feelings and saying something unpopular. We have a lawless leader, fearful legislators, indulgent parents, and celebrities committing unforgivable acts, for which they receive minimal punishment.
     Your friends may be nice to you. But how do you and they behave on the road, in a line, at a store, at the movies, in a park? Adults with their heads down and kids with hoods up and earphones in cannot communicate or give eye contact. Let us look up and tune in to the sounds around us, as we walk and drive. I notice a great deal. I see flowers. I pick up trash, look at abandoned packages, and watch those around me--I have always been an observer.
     Family and community connections and polite manners are vital for a caring society. Young people need to learn to respect their elders. Elders cannot be constantly complaining and demanding that life goes their way. Times change; nothing is or will be like it was. Kids are loud and messy and disruptive to peace and quiet. Teenagers move in groups, like packs of stray dogs. We forget that we caused a ruckus in our time. I see parents carrying their children's backpacks. What the hell is that? Young help old, not the other way around. It is nature and common sense. I always make my daughter carry the heavier loads. She is stronger.
     "God will hide me in God's shelter in the day of trouble; God will conceal me under the cover of God's tent' God will set me high on a rock." (Psalm 27)
     I pray that we return to a time when we no longer need police officers to guard us at schools and at religious, sports, political, transportation, and government venues. I hope for a time when I no longer look for escape routes or see grand pianos as something to hide under when I am in the choir loft. I hope for the day when we feel at least a bit safer and secure.
     

50 year High School Reunion

     "And you are? Ah, yes, I  remember you." Or "Oh, sorry, we were in such a large class, about 700."  These were the salutations ringing through the spaces of the Lake Merced Country Club, outside of San Francisco, last Saturday evening. My fellow classmates were friendly and pleased to be among the healthy and living. We were soberly shocked about the deceased peers and eerily wondered who would be there in 10 years. As a whole, the 60 something alumni looked trim and healthy, very few obese people. The women were looking more coiffed than the men. The classmates who are Hispanic, Black, Asian, and other darker skin mixtures definitely aged the most beautifully.Where had the intervening years gone? The day before the party, some of us--former students--took a tour of our school, an interesting and ice-breaking experience. What a joy to see the young, inquisitive, busy youngsters, staying "after school" on a Friday, unheard of in our day! The kids were actually very friendly.
     The sweetest bonds were from elementary school. Where did the intervening years go? Here I was, "Karen Levi", different but the same. I was touched by those who remembered me, being of the insecure type. More people recalled me or said they did than I ever expected; they seemed authentic, and I like to see the positive in people. Granted, I was in school with some of these individuals for about 10 years. (I attended K and 1st grade in another area of San Francisco.) My high school is an academic school, open to students from all over the city, so it did not offer non-academic courses, such as shop and home economics. However, it happened to be located not far from my elementary and junior high schools.
     Seeing old acquaintences and friends reminded me that I have always been who I am. To be recognized was a validation of who I was then and now. The reunion was a coming-home in the truest sense, a return to the me of 17 (almost 18) who became the me of 68.We changed voluntarily and naturally, but we were subjected to a great deal of criticism, judgement,  and comment. Added to that was the self analysis that occured, immense in our maturational years, when the  emphasis on "self improvement" was so prevalent. Of course, I am a better version of the original Karen, but I have come full-circle back to myself, minus all of the self trash talk. My friends and acquaintences in school were not all that different from my present social circle. Now I am educated, both academically, professionally, and emotionally, not purely influenced by my parents.
     The journey of traveling from my 17-18 year old me to 68 year old Karen was a winding road, complete with switchbacks, near disasters over cliffs, smooth riding, and driving through a fog; at times, I laughed, and then I cried. The coastal highway of the past 50 years has been a noteworthy trip. Hopefully, I am moving to the wider, straighter slightly inland highway, not boring but a bit easier to navigate. I am smiling about the reunion.

Making Peace?

     Battle, War, Combat, Fight--common terms used to describe a response to illness. This metaphor, as in the "War On Cancer," originated in the 1970's. However, the reader will be surprised to know that the use of military terminology hearkens back to the 17th century. The image of a soldier combating an illness with weapons is typically invoked by professionals and lay persons. I read blogs of people who have cancer, and the war vocabulary is a part of the patient's lexicon.
    A few years ago, I thought in the same terms--be a warrior, "kill" the cancer cells, scads of "knights" on horseback attack the deviant malignancy with lances. A violent battle will be waged against the spread of dangerous cells; by all means, everything possible should be attempted to bring a person back to health, even a 91 year old. Get rid of the nasty tissue gone haywire. But, and here is the but.
     Waging war, as a metaphor, is also utilized to face mental illness and drug addiction, as in the "War on Drugs". "We will do all we can to fight this"; "Why doesn't he fight harder?"; and "Why does she give in?" are phrases people use.
     Americans seem to have difficulty accepting what we cannot control. We do not have dominion over nature. A sick body is a sick body; a sick brain is a sick brain. I love healing and health. But nature is independent of our minds.
     I am powerless to conquer mental illness. Certainly, there are drugs and psychotherapy which eliminate or decrease symptoms, but the illness remains. Alcoholism is an excellent case in point. I am impotent to change my son's addiction to alcohol.
     Many individuals I have met in support groups and workshops view me as complacent towards my son's addiction. Others have criticized me for "not trying everything in my power", not understanding that my son has to desire change before it occurs. (Though, of course, "others" are not privy to what I have attempted.) Evidently, I do not "fight hard" enough.Whatever that means exactly?
     Common knowledge still purports that alcoholics are lazy. I admit to thinking the same on occasion. If my son drinks again, he is a loser, not a fighter. Truthfully, I do not know how it feels to be a substance abuser. But how can an alcoholic be a failure if his/her brain metabolizes alcohol differently?
     How many obituaries read, "He fought the disease valiantly" and lost? The deceased did not lose. He became ill. My son did not lose. He became ill. I did not lose. I am helpless to change another's brain. Helpless sounds pathetic. I am far from pathetic. Each day, I strive to live life with joy, meaning and empathy. My son probably feels terrible when he drinks. He grew up with sensitive, educated parents who gave him all the advantages and assistance we could offer. Various treatment modalities were attempted with limited success.
     Doctors are ultimately powerless in the face of cancer, mental illness, and addiction. I think physicians have difficulty experiencing the effects of cancer and treatment on their patients.  When a doctor has eliminated all the remedies, vanquished in war, he/she tends to leave the scene of the battle. One rarely sees a doctor at the bedside when a patient is dying.
     Cancer is one of our curses, like mental illness. People formerly died of common infections, diarrhea, heart disease. We have the ability to save most people from these illnesses, but we will never completely combat nature. This is so clear, as a hurricane batters an archipelago in the Caribbean.
     We do not respect nature. Control over numerous aspects of our environment has been gained. And, one day, humans may be able to eradicate cancer and addiction. But we will never overcome the natural world completely.
     Acceptance is difficult. I do not sit in a lotus position, repeating the mantra, "Illness come to me, I accept thee." I am frightened of cancer and other debilitating diseases. I seek to live by a basic tenet of Alcoholics Anonymous--turn an illness over to a higher power. But, I am not Mother Theresa. Witnessing a formerly healthy person struck down by a mental or physical illness is agonizing. I turn to anger, instead of sadness and acceptance. Only in the very old, am I able to be at peace with disease.
     I am working diligently to live with problems and just be; to not feel required to act, especially when all therapies have been exhausted or refused. My aim is to tolerate negative outcomes or those I did not choose or imagine.
     Living with repugnant results is antithetical to our belief that we orchestrate endings and beginnings. People ask, "How are you?" and I am supposed to respond, "fine". The next question is "How are your children?" How does one answer? "I am accepting life as it comes." Maybe, I should use that rejoinder. I believe most people want to hear--"So and so got a promotion in a start-up in California." And "So and so is pregnant with her second child." Some individuals turn their heads or walk away if one answers negatively, a response which is like putting your hands over your ears and yelling, "I can't hear you!".

Amy Tan and me

   
     Amy Tan and I have a great deal in common; though she is talented, and I just work hard. Not to say, she does not persevere. We were both sensitive girls brought up in the 1950's and 1960's, in the San Francisco Bay Area, by immigrant parents. My parents were German Jewish refugees from Nazi Germany. Her mother and father escaped Communist China.
     Our mothers were damaged by trauma, too proud to admit their issues, revealing their past lives in spurts and bursts later in life. Coincidentally, they earned licensure in medical fields, to earn extra money. Our fathers were ambitious but missed the mark in becoming "well known" in a competitive environment. In their quest for success, they encountered privileged, native English speakers, with connections. Amy Tan's father strove as a pastor, engineer, and inventor, my father in business and politics. Amy Tan's parents were unabashed in their exalted hopes for their children's futures; my parents concealed their dreams with, "do the best you can". I continually felt that my efforts were short of the highest levels.
     In her book, Where The Past Begins, Amy Tan expressed these thoughts eloquently. We, like other children of immigrants, were affected by the rip tide of regrets, fear, and anger that permeated our households, equally sensitive and attuned to nuances in our parents' mood swings. Tragically, Amy Tan's older brother and father died within six months. Thankfully, I did not suffer this tragedy. However, like her, I lived in fear of a brain tumor, other ailments, and an early death. Amy Tan is a well-known author; however, she worked in the field of language disabilities for a short period of time. I was a Speech-Language Pathologist for 36 years. Our lives have been dominated by words,sentences, and a love of language.
     November 8, 2016 was a watershed moment for many Americans. Amy Tan wrote about the terrible days when we realized that the worst of our country would be laid bare--zenophobia, racism, sexism, isolationism, extreme materialism, ignorance. We came face-to-face with the hidden despot; the autocrat lurking in the shadows; the man who would voice the worst sentiments of fearful citizens. Amy Tan's family was familiar with discrimination, and my family knew firsthand what damage a  dictator could wreak.  We wondered who are fathers would have voted for. I knew without a doubt that my father--a loyal, staunch Democrat-- would have voted for Hillary Clinton. Ms. Tan was not sure, since her father was an Evangelical Christian. Like Amy Tan, I have been deeply upset about the deceit and disregard for human life that permeates the Executive Branch of the government.
     I rely on memory and imagination in my life, reaching back to past events to interpret the present. Imagination has been a safe place for retreat and calm. My father regaled me with tales of imaginary friends, who I do not remember at all. I must have been quite young. A rich fantasy life enables me in my writing and in daily life. My daughter and I enjoy spinning yarns for fun. In her recent book, Amy Tan describes at length the role of memory and imagination in her writing.

Susan Levin

In memory of Susan Levin who died of cancer, too young and too curious to suffer this deadly disease. She was a supporter of my writing, and for that I am forever grateful. I only met Susan after she was diminished in illness, though not in spirit. She joined my synagogue after her husband died, perhaps to assert herself a bit. Susan joined the choir too. She used a walker and quietly sat down with the sopranos. Susan knew the liturgy very well, partly due to being married to a cantor. I do not know if she grew up in a devout home. As I wrote, I knew her for a very short time. Beneath, all of the layers of clothing--was she always cold or was she dressed modestly--the beret, the walker, and the pale face of a cancer victim was a feisty, fiery woman, not afraid to express herself. All I know is that cancer is taking too many lives in their golden years, too often. May the light shine brightly for Susan.

Death in Three Parts--my birthday card

Death in three parts. My mother is dying, whether she opts for "treatment" or not, her body's cells are deteriorating rapidly. She is almost 92, so this is not a tragic, unthinkable death. Like a hardy plant succumbing or a mighty tree turning grey, with bare branches the year long, all should be so lucky to know a life well-lived. A life of 90+ years is a gift, a matter of luck and moderate living, nothing too extreme. If we could view this advanced stage of life--including death-- with optimism, that would be wonderful.
Then, there is the other death--a drug overdose of a young man at 28 years old. A sickness--drug addiction--turned his brain into a poison-seeking machine programmed for destruction. Dead, lying alone in a dingy room somewhere, in the darkness forever. Herein lies the true tragedy. Yet nature has worked in its mysterious manner. This brain was only to last less than thirty years.
My son is also dying. He may not know it, but I do. Another victim of deadly addiction, alcohol in his case, no less able to control the progression of the disease than my mother is able to stop the cancer cells.Why must parents and siblings watch this painful demise? Why must we pick up the random pieces of a life not lived? Why must we bury the young while we slowly die of the malignancy of torment, pain, and disbelief?

Stolpersteine

     Gunter Deming is changing the sidewalks and doorways in cities throughout Europe. Citing the Talmud, he said, "a person is only forgotten when his or her name is forgotten." Deming, a German artist, started the Stolpersteine Project for this reason. His organization installs bronze plaques for the victims of the Nazi attrocities in front of the building where they last resided. Stolperstein literally means "stumbling stone" in German. The intent is for people to stumble over the stones. When one looks down at the cause of the near tumble, one sees a square bronze plaque, with the words, Hier wohnt...."(Here lived) One stone, one name, one person, one life. These stones are being laid all over Germany, the Netherlands, France, and Belgium. More recently, the project has extended to Poland, Austria, the Ukraine, Hungary, Argentina, and Mallorca. The plaques are visual reminders of what transpired at a specific location.
     This is another example of reparations--recall, remembrance, responsibility-- by a German organization to the victims, and their families, of the genocide perpetrated by the Nazis. Few Americans seem to know about the program, which is a mystery to me. The plaques are everywhere Americans travel, but one has to look down occasionally.
     To quote Inge Rhein, an American citizen born in Germany and a friend of mine, "Recently I thought if there were one such stone for every person(Jews, Roma, homosexuals, people with disabilities, political adversaries, journalists) Germany's streets would be paved with gold."

How Could I Hate These Germans

     No Volkswagens, no German spoken, and no mention of Germany pre and post World War II. I grew up understanding the German language; my grandmothers spoke German to each other, but I did not learn to speak German until I studied the language in high school. Though an A student in German, I spoke awkwardly and with a terrible American accent. It was a loss for sure.
     I understood my parents' discomfort with Germany in the 1950's through the 1960's. My parents are Holocaust survivors. My paternal grandmother taught me some pride in German achievements. She frequently pointed out a statue of Goethe and Schiller in the Golden Gate Park and read contemporary German literature. Both of my grandmothers listened to opera by German composers.      By the late 1970's my parents' frozen views towards Germany thawed. I visited Germany in 1973 by myself; my friends refused to join me. My mother and father followed a few years later and revisited several times, taking my sister and brother. My father enjoyed being wined and dined by former classmates in his birthplace of Konstanz am Bodensee (Constance). My mother ventured to Berlin, but she was wary of the place. I nurtured distrust and dislike for Germans through the decades.
     Around the millenium, I read of changes, attempts by Germans to appologize and memorialize the Jews and others who were murdered. My sister-in-law met a woman, Jani Pietsch, who wrote a book about the Jews of Schoneiche, who'd lost their entire belongings--house and all--to the Nazis, immediately following Kristallnacht. My curiosity deepened. This woman--Christian, a bit older than me--researched and produced a book about Jews? This was positive. I began to read about Germany's liberal governmental policies. This was no longer a fascist state. Germany was more liberal than the United States!
     Fellow American Jews disdain Germans and Germany. Comments such as, "I wouldn't set foot on German soil," are commonly uttered by Jews. They laugh nervously and put on fake accents. This is no longer funny. We cannot hate forever. As the 2000's progressed, our country seemed to become more narrow-minded--the far right, the Christian evangelists, and angry white men. Rampant shootings occurred by young white males. The culmination of hatred came in the form of a huge businessman with fake blonde hair and an orangy artificial tan winning the presidential election in 2016. He had a base?
    What was happening? White supremacists were getting bolder in the United States. These frightening right wing terrorists commenced their violence in the mid to late 1990's. No one could say that groups akin to European skinheads were purely a problem "over there". They were here, way back in the 1970's in Skokie, Illinois and more recently in Charlottesville, Virginia. I remember my father talking about the John Birch Society.
     My roots are in Germany, at least as far back as the 18th century. My ancestors most probably felt equally German and Jewish. So, how can I merely ignore German culture and history, rich in literature, music, and science to name a few fields? And Germany in the early 20th century, was a fertile ground for new growth in architecure, art, literature, and lifestyle. Germans were militaristic for sure, but what country or background is 100% good? And, of course, there were the Nazis. Everyone is familiar with the conditions that led up to Hitler gaining power. I make no appologies for Germany. But, we see firsthand how hatred raises its ugly head within a climate of unrest, change, and divisiveness. Look at Pittsburgh, Atlanta, Christ Church.
     Back to Germany 2019. So there is Klaus, Jani, Andreas, and Inge. All Germans in their 40's, 60's, and 70's. They are artistic, literary, intelligent and committed to bridging the gap between Jews and "Gentile" Germans. One of these people has discovered he is Jewish. These are just four humans I have met, three of them in the process of visiting Germany in 2014 with my mother. My relationship with them deepened when I wrote a memoir. Inge is a former colleague and a friend who lives near me in the United States.
     Jani Pietsch, the woman who wrote the book about the Jewish people forced out of their homes following Kristallnacht, has organized an annual event, Denk Mal Am Ort (Think of the place). With her daughter, Marie, also an artist, they encouraged Berliners to inquire if their abodes had been previously inhabited by Jewish occupants. German, Jewish citizens who were compelled to escape Germany or were deported to the concentration camps. Some of the present householders accepted the challenge and  have opened their homes, on one weekend in May, so Berliners can see firsthand where and how Jewish people lived. Persecution becomes real and more likely to decrease when one identifies with the "hated" other and observes common humanity.
     My sister and I will be traveling to Berlin on May 1st to participate in Denk Mal Am Ort. The flat my mother lived in as a child will be opened, by Andreas and his wife. Klaus, an upstairs neighbor, will be present too. I will read from the book I wrote about my mother. Jani and Marie will be coordinating the event all over Berlin.
     How can I hate all Germans? Americans do not open up their homes in Oklahoma, Missouri, Georgia, or Florida, so we see where Native Americans lived and were displaced, murdered, and robbed. How many years passed before an African American Museum appeared in Washington D.C.? Who said "people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones"? It was Chaucer in the 14th century. Hatred of the other is ancient. Germans did not invent genocide, but evil Germans were responsible and ruthless as mass killing evolved into the unthinkable. Americans, Jews and non-Jews, are required to look within at our loathing, resentment, and hostility.
 

Look and Listen

The Holocaust Museum sent out a small pamphlet, "Defining The Enemy". I kept it with the hope that I could "spread the word". Perhaps, someone will be influenced or changed by the information. Warning signs of fascism abound in our world today, including in our United States.
The leaflet describes how Nazi propaganda promoted the myth of the "national community" and identified who should be excluded. In that time, Jews were defined as the main enemy. Now, the current administration in control of our country considers Hispanics, coming from Latin America, and Muslims to be the other.
The three "Key Facts" of defining the enemy, according to the handout, are targeting a group as outsiders; using propaganda and laws to further isolate the group; and campaigning and encouraging hatred, violence and an indifference to these operations.
Anyone who is willing to see the commonalities of our times and the dreadful period of World War II--and a myriad of other historical periods, will comprehend the implications of the president's frightening and destructive behavior. Books have been written on this subject, so I will keep this post short and omit details. Examples of the key facts just keep coming, as rapidly as one of our summer storms move. We are informed of the shocking stories as they pop up on our screens.
Before ending this small bit of writing I add the following observation. The administration's comportment after the "Barr Report" was made public, revealed the dictatorial nature of the leader of our country and the blind devotion of his cronies--attacks on the press and media; personal threats to the careers of congressmen; and celebrating, gloating, and turning the tables on who was the problem. These are all classic strategies used by authoritarian leaders.
The Democrats should sit back in their comfortable chairs; inhale and exhale; and watch the fascistic circus on our national stage.

People Just Don't Care

At the risk of being a misanthrope, I believe a majority of Americans are apathetic towards Mr. Trump, his cronies, and their policies. We, who are able, should be in the streets, protesting, and writing letters and making phone calls at home. More Americans are protesting than is typical; but a critical mass has not been established. The "silent majority"returned not to even mention more sinister groups.
Unexamined fear on the part of Americans is not a justification to condone a disproportionate amount of minorities to be killed by the police or for refugees to be sent back to violence in their countries and separated from their children in refugee camps. I believe our country has come to a critical juncture--raise our voices or sit complacently in our warm houses and let the dark forces come forth and act.
Never in recent history have we had a leader who blantly breaks the law, scoffs at the law, lies outright, regards others with antipathy, repudiates knowledge of civics, and does not desire to learn aught. Never have we had a leader who represents the worst in our culture--fast food, materialism and capitalism as religion, disavowal of a moral underpinning, and a nullity of interests--except golf. Only the ghosts of dogs or cats scamper and prowl the White House.
Young people ordinarily work and support their new families. Middle aged folks continue with this pattern and save for the future. Old people survive and reap the benefits of their hard work. Nothing wrong with the status quo, but what about others who are less fortunate? What about justice? What about history? Plenty of people are doing charity work; vowing to protest serious challenges to our democracy is a particular matter.
Right in front of our Caucasian faces, the police treat young white males differently than men of color. Refer to the incident at the Lincoln Memorial in January. I do not believe Black or Hispanic youth would have been forgiven for their egregious behavior toward an elderly Native American. Black youth are killed by police because they have a shiny object in their hand, and they are running. Fear again, of course, but aren't law enforcement officers trained to subdue suspects without killing them?
What about Paul Manafort getting a light sentence for serious corruption and possible treason? Why are we imprisoning indigenous women and children at the southern border; yet white foreigners, who have overstayed the duration of their visas, are given time to sort out their affairs?
Does anyone out there care? Maybe white Christian people do not remember that they were treated badly, for example the Irish Americans and Italians when they arrived in the United States in the  nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Maybe German Americans do not recall that they were ostracized during World War I and II? Maybe Asians have not read their history in this country; perhaps they do not know about Angel Island and the building of the railroads? Could it be that the Daughters of the American Revolution have forgotten that their ancestors left England due to religious persecution? Is unfair treatment just fine, so long as it's not affecting you and your family?
I guess so.

Americans Live in Two Silos

A horrible thought, but true, divided we fall. Americans separate themselves in two camps--red/blue, conservative/liberal, Republican/Democrat. We listen to different media outlets, read divergent newspapers, live in small towns/large cities, and reside in the interior of the country/on the coasts. The recent comments by the freshman Congress person Ilhan Omar from Minnesota is a case in point. She utters irresponsible statements; obviously she does not filter her comments. The points are anti-Israel, so Americans immediately are divided. The pro-Israel forces demonize her. The anti-Israel side excuses her and claims anti-Muslim sentiments are fueling the criticism of her. College students join forces with Omar.  The older, moderate Democrats have to choose sides and are left in limbo. The Republicans are gung-ho Israel, many for the wrong reasons. These same folks were probably anti-Semitic several generations back. Congress is in chaos. People scream at each other--"You are anti-Semitic. You--anti-Muslim. You--anti woman. You--anti-American." No middle ground exists.
What about a person like me? I am anti-Netanyahu, settlements, and harsh treatment of Palestinians. I abhor AIPEC. So am I anti-Semitic? No, hardly. Am I anti-Israel? No, definitely not. But, if I am pro-Israel, am I a Republican? Never. Anti-American because I "pledged my support" to Israel. That's ridiculous.
If Pelosi talks to Congresswoman Omar, Nancy Pelosi is anachronistic, anti-Muslim, anti-Palestinian, racist, etc. On Thursday of this week, Congress will proclaim that anti-Semitism and anti-Muslimism are not acceptable. By the way, Ilhan Omar never uttered anti-semitic comments. That interpretation originates from the press and the utra-right, a strange marriage for sure. But what about Mr. Trump? He remains anti everybody except for Christian White Males and makes executive decisions based on his racism?
And why is Ilhan Omar stirring the pot? For her own aggrandizement? Surely, Israel is not the only country demonstrating policies and procedures that deny people their human rights? She stated that if she could criticize the NRA and current enviornmental policy, why could she not discuss U.S. policy towards Israel? Certainly, she can do so; however, she must be informed on the history of Israel and American Jews. Incendiary statements will spark a fire and quickly turn into a maelstrom, as we are witnessing.
There is no longer space for nuance in thought and discussion. This polarizing dynamic has been repeated over the last decade--climate change, guns, immigrants. The situation agitates and aggravates me. I feel anxiety. I scream, yell, "This is crazy making." We are getting more divisive, separated, bifurcated, unable to discuss with the other "side".
In 2016, the Democrats focused on understanding the people who voted for Trump. Books were written. Now, in 2019, comprehension of the motivation of a Trump voter is impossible; argument substitutes for meaningful discourse. The opposing groups raise their voices, "You are not being fair. That's fake news. Of course, I don't like his speeches; but, look what he has accomplished. Are you crazy, he hasn't accomplished a thing!" And on and on, until everyone is exhausted, drained, and upset.
By the way, Ilhan Omar is from Somalia. Why is she so concerned with Israel? Oh oh, I must be racist and anti-Muslim. I am just asking questions. She is criticizing Saudi Arabia. so that does give her more credibility. The adult in me asks, why is a freshman congress woman not learning the ropes and focusing on her new role?
My detractors will accuse me of being negative, overly sensitive, etc. I should chill, ignore the "crazy" ones, disregard the news, and not respond to the relatives who live out West who support Mr. Trump. However, we are living in a mess. I fear only a serious national crisis will wake us up. History is the source of this predicition. Look at the 1920's and 1930's and then think what happened. The world exploded. But then again, I am what is called a "Second Generation Holocaust Survivor". Of course, I would be full of fear.

Be Gracious Unto You

      My Rabbi, in his talk last night at Simcha Shabbat, reminded the congregants of the importance of being thankful. I had a note on my bulletin board, reminding me to be thankful. But, I do not have that visual reminder posted anymore. I removed the piece of paper, with the message. I thought I would remember. Now, when something extraordinary occurs, I recall to be thankful. But, I also need to be grateful everyday, for the small graces.
      The rabbi told the story of a grandmother who told her granddaughter on her wedding day, "I hope you have many small problems."
      "What an awful thing to say to me, of all days!" the granddaughter responded.
      "Ah," the grandmother said in her wise, slightly accented voice. "If you have many small problems, maybe you won't have a big one."
      The rabbi went on to explain--one response to minor glitches will train an individual for the serious crises. Same with graditude, if one makes being gracious a habit, then one will be ready to be very thankful for the important events, experiences, and relationships one encounters on life's journey.
      The rabbi added that an alternative to counting sheep to fall asleep, one could tick off the actions, objects, and people for which one feels gratitude.
      So today, two kind actions by strangers stand out--the guard at the African American Museum let my friend and I enter on one pass, not the two that are required; a man in the museum shop bought a postcard for me, when I told him the card was for my 91 year old mother, he said, "Bless her heart!"
The other day, a woman told me where I dropped my glove, and then a little girl picked it up for me. Common courtesy--yes; however, in these tense times, not so typical.

Serious Need in Our Community

     There is a serious need for our special needs adult population to find meaningful employment.These are the young adults who were educated in the school system during the 1990's to early 2000's and benefited from wonderful educational experiences due to tremendous advances in special education in our schools. These are the 20 and 30 something generation--millenials--who were integrated into the community from their birth. They were nurtured in a "can do" environment.
    The parents and service providers emphasized what these youngsters could accomplish and not what they were unable to do. There were social skills groups, camps, Special Olympics, tutors, entire schools, special classes within schools, and mainstreaming. Every kind of therapy imaginable was utilized and with great success. There were theater companies! Young people with special needs became models, dancers, actors, artists, and athletes. Nothing was impossible. The sky was the limit! However, the world changed and advanced. Our students entered a highly complex world, with the decline of brick and mortar stores, mechanized cashiers, ATM machines, and ubiquitous computers. Restaurants became self-serve. Less support staff wherever one looked. No one was prepared. The so-called "gifted" also searched in this confusing world. The bar for them had been set too high, as well. What career paths would they follow?
      I forsaw the disaster. Students were placed too high on the bell curve of intelligence and achievement. A new category of gifted/learning disabled appeared; high functioning was the important catch phrase. Multiple intelligences, baccalaureate programs for all, honors classes for the average, and AP classes galore. No one really knew where they fell on the spectrum of aptitude, since the educational field filled with inflated grades, scores, and expectations. Schools did not encourage vocational education for anyone and the trades were ignored by high schools. But back to special needs.
     My daughter is just such a young adult, adopted from Guatemala, diagnosed with PDD-NOS (Pervasive Developmental Disorder, Non Otherwise Specified). She has autism and cognitive issues, with strengths in verbal expression and long-term memory. Isabel is funny, creative, loyal, motivated and serious about whatever responsibility is given to her. She is a graduate of the George Mason University LIFE program. She completed thirteen years of education through Montgomery County Public Schools, in addition to a "highly selective"  post-secondary program through the school system. Always the star special education student, but her skills were not adequate for the challenging, "regular" high school curriculum.
     Isabel has participated in various internships, ranging from working in a restaurant to being an office assistant on Capitol Hill. Surprisingly, some of her best experiences were in a summer camp, where she had various jobs. The opportunity was facilitated by Yachad, an arm of the Orthodox (Jewish) Union. The irony is not lost on me that the most conservative wing of Judaism in the United States gives the best opportunities to young adults with special needs; they take care of their own which is something no one else appears willing to do. Thankfully, they allowed Isabel to be in their program (eventhough we are not Orthodox Jews.)
    The caveat with all of these job opportunities is that there were mentors to facilitate the procedure. Once the staff was comfortable, Isabel accomplished her job independently. Staff was satisfied. The site had a reliable worker, and Isabel beamed with pride. Isabel's experiences were positive and we, her parents, thought she would find a job. Evidently, not so!
    Now for the real world. How do we get this model to work outside of an educational program? Who can help? How can it be accomplished? So far, in our job search, we have hit a "brick wall." We use an agency to assist Isabel in her job search. However, the counselors at this organization appear to be unprepared.
     Isabel goes to interviews and the employer/manager expects her to respond as a person who is typical. Corporations, that claim they hire "the disabled" are not doing so. Maybe, the business has one person, with normal social skills and intelligence, in a wheelchair. No, that is not hiring "the disabled" for 2019. That would have been appropriate 40 years ago! All types of disabilities need to be recognized--mental illness, substance abuse, PTSD, ex-convicts, autism, Down Syndrome, and Fragile X, just to name a few. Employment of the disabled will inevitably reduce the homeless population and those on government assistance.
    I do not understand why the field of adult special needs is hidden in the dungeons of Counseling and Social Work Departments. Why are University Special Education programs stopping at school age populations? If school systems, the government, and public health departments invest in babies, educational programs cannot halt with 21 year olds. There are a few exceptions, one being George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia. The LIFE program provided preparation for life after school; however, these positions do not translate to the world of work.
    I would like to start an advocacy group for the young adults with special needs, who are capable of being an asset to the workplace. This advocacy group would explore and then implement new policies for hiring the disabled. I would love to find enthusiastic younger adults who have energy for such an advocacy group. Professionals who can work quickly, efficiently, and productively. Isabel's father and I, her mother, are in the Baby Boomer generation. We have made our mark on the world. We need help. This is not my field of expertise. Where are the creative, young journalists, writers, consultants, entrepeneurs and future government leaders out there? And, of course, educators? I hear that this generation "thinks outside of the box?" The millenials look at the world of work differently; here's your chance. These adults with special needs are your brothers, sisters, cousins, siblings of friends? You went to school with them.
   Please read this blog and then think about what I have written. Thank you.