The Red Pill

I'm still convinced that The Matrix was one of the best movies ever made.Think about it, every time we know something the powers that be would rather us not know. We take the red pill. I take the red pill a lot. Including times I'd rather not.

For example, Cherry Coke is my favorite soft drink in the world, but when I found out that Coke was actually hiring death squads to murder union organizers I had to give it up because I simply couldn't handle the idea that I was helping to pay for such people. How about you? What has taking red pill caused you to give up?

Joey is free and Other News from Tuesday

This picture made me happy. We took over and took on HUD. Two people were arrested, both walking. Apparently, the DC police think that disabled people can't make decisions by themselves. Does the word "DUH" (which is HUD backwards) mean anything to them?

We parked in front of the doors as per usual, but the blocked the street and garages, too. I blockaded a garage ramp. Then they got HUD rent-a-cops to stand between us and the on ramp. You see, the knew we wouldn't hurt actual flesh and blood beings, even if they were cops. But plenty of us, me included, was still pissed about the deceit from yesterday and therefore, absolutely willing to make them drag us and our heavy power chairs away. I think they may have hurt themselves, but as my assistant says "Idiocy should hurt." I'm quite sure some of those men are going to have sore places where they never knew they had muscles.

Eventually they pulled me away, but I give it a good try. Then I held up a sign and chanted for awhile. Then Secretary Donovan give us a meeting and we left, as promised.

Onward and upward, a new Wednesday activity looms. We usually go to the Hill on Wednesdays, but not apparently tomorrow. Exciting! Exciting!

ADAPT, scenes from a Monday

I meant to write yesterday when I got in, but I was just to exhausted. I had to write my examiner column first. They are the people paying me to be here after all. HHowever, If I actually used the words I wanted to (and probably will slightly use) this in entry, Examiner would fire me tomorrow. I spent part of my day blockading a white house gate with about 40 adapters, mostly women. I think there were only two men present on that gate.

In case you don't realize it, arresting women in wheelchairs is a big pain for the DC police, because if they have to help us go to the bathroom, which they legally do, it's not just "a point and click operation", as my assistant calls it, as it is with men. You can't just grab it, put into a cup, dispose of said full cup, put it back and be done. So I'm sure they were not thrilled at the idea of arresting 38 women. So they bribed us.

One of the Texas PCAs. whose name is Joey, got himself arrested when he was running in the front of a group of stampeding wheelchair users running for the White House gate. he crashed with a bicycle and they threw him to the ground and beat him up slightly. Happily. it was mostly minor injuries (bruises and scraps) but he was charged with assaulting an officer, which makes no sense to me. At least, they said he was going to be charged with that.

However, they said that if we let them have the middle gate where we were located, they would only charge joey with a misdemeanor and release him tonight. I'm not making this up, I actually heard them say it. as the dc police have been pretty much straight up with ADAPT over the years, we backed off in Joey's best interest. we got tot he hotel tonight, all the while I'm expecting to see Joey at some point, as is everyone else. Imagine my surprise when I run into my color leader friends Anita and Dawn in the lobby after sign making and discover that not only is Joey not with us, he's in jail with regular criminals in the Washington DC lockup.

What was that thing Ricky Ricardo used to say? "Lucy, you got some splainin to do!" as far as i'm concerned, the DC police have some splainin to do tomorrow. And ADAPT doesn't tend to be as nice as Ricky Ricardo.

i think that they'll be really unhappy when they discover that ADAPTERers don't take them at their word anymore. Anyone who's dealt with us realizes this is just a bad move on our opponents' part. if you lie to my face, I'm likely to never speak to you again, never believe a word you say, and or plot vengeance against you. If you lie to a bunch of adapt women, we're going to spend hours plotting ways to make your life difficult. as my assistant said, who agreed to help put stranded Texans to bed after i accidentally volunteered her for it, "someone just screwed up really badly".

Before this event, my opinion of the DC police was, "they're cops but they're not assholes!" After today, remove the not. When will bureaucracy learn that if you lie to ADAPT, especially if you lie to ADAPT women, we'll find a way to get you. I hope that whatever they promise tomorrow comes in writing with a bunch of signatures. I don't intend to believe it otherwise.

Word of warning to bureaucrats, ADAPT women may not be able to move in ways you consider normal. Some of us can't even clean ourselves post bathroom usage. But we remember real good for a real long time.

Either/Or: an activist ponders

Today, I'm a crossroads. I'm stuck in the middle between saying "Yay!" to Google for paying the unfair tax to LGBT employees who must pay a tax on domestic partner benefits. Here is the link.

At the same time I'm upset that Google has not opted to create a special doodle, drawing of it's logo, in honor of the Americans with Disabilities Act anniversary on July 26th. If you want to object read my Examiner article or join this Facebook group.

So this activist, who both bisexual and disabled proudly is caught between saying "Yay!" and "Boo!" I have decided that this is okay. I'm still hoping that Google does the right thing and honor the Americans with Disabilities Act. Come on Google! Honor your progressive values.

Said...

I always try to teach able-bodied people that disabled people's lives are able to be lived joyously. That we can participate in society and have value in the world. This able-bodied person I value (even though we have had at times major issues, I would be amazingly sad if he died, because I believe- and this took me awhile- that his heart's in the right place although his judgment is sometimes questionable to put it politely).

He and I were talking briefly when he came to pick up my PCA at the end of her shift, as he is her roommate. He says, "if I can't take care of myself I'm going to drop a lot of ecstasy and jump out an airplane with a parachute."

I said, "I'm not going to say anything, just sit here and be quietly alarmed."

He asked, "Why?"

I told him, "To do as you purpose says disabled people can't have successful lives. I hope you would overcome that." I felt truly offended but was trying not to act as such, because I didn't feel like fighting or having it be a big deal.

He said, "I'm not going to deal with being unable to do what I've been able to do for 30 plus years." I let that go, but I was alarmed.

If this person who lived in my house when he had no shelter thought my life was so unworthy that he would kill himself rather than endure it, perhaps I'm not as good at conveying my "all life is fine and worthy" message as I thought.

I know my friend didn't mean to cast aspersions at my life and proud affiliation with disability culture. However, it felt like that. Is this why it's so easy for able-bodied people to follow the logic of "Better died than defective!" Where had I failed to influence this person? What could have done differently. Just my thoughts!

Crisis of Conscience

Note: Before this entry is published I’m going to talk to all the people involved and I’m also going to change all the names. I don’t usually do this, but when dealing with minors you can’t be too careful.

This entry has been rolling around in my mind for a few weeks. On May first, I went to Pride. Those of you who know me know that I always go and have a booth there. This year, I was also on a mission to find teenage appropriate clothes for someone with two moms who is not embarrassed about it. This is because two of my beloved activist friends have adopted a 14-year-old girl. One of my greatest joys in life of late has been buying and sending things to Jane. It’s lovely being a virtual auntie. You get to spoil someone else’s kid and you don’t even have to babysit.

When I saw the teenagers from Children of Lesbians and Gays Everywhere (COLAGE) sitting across from me selling t-shirts, I thought that I would get her one. Knowing, as I do, how much she seems to like bright colors and rainbows, the white rainbow t-shirt that said ‘I LOVE MY FAMILY’ with a heart where love should be seemed ideal from my ultra-femme honorary niece. However, when I had someone take over my table so I could go over there, they had sold out of the shirt I had wanted. All that remained was a gray shirt with orange writing that said ‘YOU KNOW WHAT’S SO GAY? MY FAMILY.’

Being bisexual and in a wheelchair, I’ve encountered my share of bigots because I wear activist t-shirts and have liberation stickers on my wheelchair. For a moment, I considered not buying this very obvious shirt. The last thing I would ever want is for some middle school bully to harm Jane. I sat there for several minutes while the teenager who showed me the shirt waited expectantly for me to do something, namely take out my wallet. In the end, I rebuked myself for having these giving in sort of thoughts. Jane lives in a nice place with progressive people and young people today are much more accepting than when I was growing up. I was sure she would have no problems. Moreover, I thought this was much more of a Pride festival shirt than a wearing-to-school-on-a-regular-basis shirt.

I put the shirt in the mail the next day along with a shirt I got her from ADAPT, a disability rights group I belong to. About one week later, I got a message from one of her moms saying the package had arrived and not to worry. She was not mad at me despite the impression I may have gotten from her Facebook status. I hadn’t checked Helen’s Facebook status that day, so I didn’t even know what she was talking about. Of course, the curious person I am, I went and checked immediately.

Apparently, Jane had insisted on wearing the gay family shirt to school. Helen, being a protective mom, was concerned about people teasing her. But anyone who knows Jane will tell you that once she gets her mind set on something, good luck getting her to change it. Finally, the pair reached a compromise. Jane could wear the shirt I sent, but she had to wear another shirt over it. Now that Jane was successfully off at school, Helen confessed to feeling a little guilty. She said “Have I betrayed my community, my family, myelf?”

I felt amazingly guilty at causing my friend to go through all those emotions merely because I bought her daughter a gift. It really made me think. On the one hand, I was very proud of Jane for not being afraid of what people would say and being proud of who she was—the daughter of two awesome lesbian activists who loved her to bits. On the other hand, I was afraid as her mom was that some hotheaded teenage bigot might give her a bloody nose or something.

This made me think about when I have my own kids in the future. Will I be nervous if they want to wear a shirt saying they have two moms in my case is, as far as I can estimate, is about a 70% likelihood. Will I try to shelter them from the misguided bigots of the world? Is this even good for them? What does my sexual orientation have to do with their growing up in the first place?

Of course, I don’t need to figure any of this out right now. At the moment, I’m so hopelessly single, it’s pathetic. There is no partner. Therefore, there will be no kids. My mother was a single mother and I respect her for it. A lot of my friends are single mothers, so please don’t think I’m bashing single motherhood. It’s just not for me.

In the end, I’m glad, in a way, that this incident happened. It gave me some clarity around issues I fully expect to struggle with when I become a mother. Although, I also hope that the world will become more accepting by then. Somehow, though, I’m sure we’ll have a bit to go. I think that’s always going to be the case.

Whty Local Elections Matter

I voted today. It was local election. We visited for two Selectman, a housing authority member, and a few board of health members. I know it was only a town election, but town elections ensure that Belchertown pays its community transit fees, has good housing programs, and a really good school system. Therefore, town elections are vital to every citizen’s well-being.

Sadly, not every member of my community sees it that way. I voted at just past 12:30. According to the election worker, I was voter 115 in my precinct of about 2,300! That’s a 20% return My good friend Ken Elstein, who is even more of a political animal than I am, who was at the polls today garnering support for Dave Sullivan, a Democrat who’s running for District Attorney told me there have been years where the total voter turnout was 800 for the entire town!

I’m fanatical about voting. While I will allow a lot of political divergence between myself and any romantic partner I have, I can’t imagine myself being happily attached to a committed “non-voter”. Bring a disabled, person of color who happens to be a woman, too many people have tried to separate me from that ballot box and democracy. I’ve never, in my life, missed an election in which I was eligible to vote. I don’t plan to, either. It just isn’t part of my character.

By the time I post this, it will be about 6:45. If you live in Belchertown, you’ll have 1 hour an 15 minutes to do your civic duty at the high school at 142 Springfield Road. If you don’t live here, make sure you vote in your own local election. Democracy, even just local Democracy, doesn’t just ask us to participate everyday. Election days are special and we should rejoice and participate therein.