No "good death"

I have been absolutely sickened by the news coming out of Britain. It's just horrible. My daughter and I have started avoiding British news and programming because of the euthanasia drive. I know we shouldn't, that we should actively confront this monster on the global scale, but there is so much bigotry, so little understanding of disability--where to start? How to get it through people's heads? It's a kind of terrorism directed at the disabled, I think. More of us have been openly identifying as disabled who in the past would have denied it and tried to hide it. We've experienced relief in doing so, and found solidarity with our brothers and sisters who are unable to disguise their differences at all. And here the bullying able-bodied world wants to shame everyone again, to clear their days of any interaction with openly disabled people. It will be those with learning disabilities and neurological problems and bad joints pretending that they don't need any accomodations, so they can keep their jobs. It will be those in wheelchairs, in braces, those who are deaf or blind, cloistered behind drawn curtains so no one has to have visual reminder of disability. And those already largely housebound pressured to submit to the ultimate exclusion, euthanasia. And once it is a common place to kill those who require nursing care, the next level of social "burden" will be targeted. None of us are safe in a culture where the answer to weakness is death.

Pro-euthanasia advocates insist that they would never pressure anyone into committing suicide. But they lie. Their language, as William Peace shows,  reveals how they routinely devalue and disparage the lives of people with disabilities.  Daniel James's parents are excellent examples, saying that their paralyzed son, along with disabled people in general, are "second class citizens." Since when is the solution to a problem of second class citizenship euthanasia? I'll tell you when! The Indian Wars! Oh, those poor Indians, losing their land and culture. Let's kill them off toot-sweet and put them out of our misery. It's a veritable final solution to the issue, one might say as one goose-stepped along. 

Euthanasia advocates also purposely muddy the waters, appealing to people's wish to resolve the suffering of loved ones who are truly dying in distress in order to get assisted suicide legalized. Thus British television viewers were given the opportunity to witness a disabled man said to be at the end of his life kill himself at a Swiss clinic while talk still swirls about Daniel James, who was not terminal. Disability does not mean dying, but if the euthanasia advocates get their way, it will soon.

Heroes, disabled

S * P * O * I * L * E * R * S



Hey, I'm going to talk about the show. I will reveal things that happened. If you haven't watched it, but plan to, and just hate having the plot revealed, Go back! Go back! Captain Kirk, go baaaaaaaaaaaaaaack.



Last Warning!



I got caught up on my favorite TV show, Heroes, yesterday. The Eclipse, Part I is something of a study on disabilty attitudes. Everyone lost their powers and suddenly became disabled, merely normal after they had gotten used to being supernormal. Each character reacted differently to their loss, with their reactions in keeping with their personality and values.

To some of the characters, the loss of powers is a relief, even though it brings them great pain. For the super-healer, Clair, the pain is what she cherishes most, since she had lost the ability to feel it. Even though she is shot in a botched kidnapping attempt, and can't immediately heal like she usually would, she is happy that she now has confirmation that she is human after all. Series all-purpose bad guy Sylar is also content with his loss of ability, focussing on his release from the constant hunger and discontent his super-comprehension had put him through. In comparison to what he was, he now has a cognitive disability, and he couldn't be more pleased. And Mohinder, who had mutated himself in the service of mad science, is thrilled to no longer be turning into an insect...at least until the heavies come around and threaten to beat him to a pulp.

Some of the characters are irritated with their loss and resistant to adapting. Nathan Petrelli, at the beginning of the episode, was chiding his younger brother, Peter, who had lost powers to their father earlier in the season, for being resentful over his relatively disabled state. Then he also loses his powers and begins lashing out at Peter for suggesting that they take his inability to fly into account in their travel plans, and his stubborness leads them both to a deadend. Psychic Matt Parkman, who had nearly given up on finding happiness when his superpower first began to manifest, again nearly gives up on finding happiness--this time with the excuse that he can't do anything to win his intended without his ability.

The most pathetic character, though, is the one whose loss of super-speed renders her disabled by TAB standards. Daphne is ridiculous. Tim Kring, why did you pull out the self-pitying disabled person stereotype? All this time, we were led to believe that Daphne was in thrall to the evil Papa Petrelli because of some super terrible feature of her pre-super life. And now we find out that the terrible thing is that she has leg braces and forearm crutches? And to avoid having her powers stripped by Papa Petrelli was willing to betray everyone she loved and act contrary to her own moral code? What kind of a person would rather be someone else's puppet than be unable to walk? This is a completely unbelievable personality flaw, and a libel against people with disabilities. If you had other characters who were traditionally disabled without their powers, then it would be OK to show one of them as being a self-hating cripple. But you don't. You are using one character to stand in for an entire class of people. You may as well kill off the black cast members on a regular basis. Oh, wait. You do that, don't you. Maybe you all need to think a little harder about your positions of privilege?   

The one character that I think best reflects the disability reality is Hiro. He refused to allow Parkman to feel sorry for himself, insisting that a real hero wouldn't need special powers but would find a way to save the day. He is confident that everything will be fine, that they must simply have a plan. Yes, right now, he has the mind of a child and is looking to get his own power back. But it is his basic personality that is leading him, and that views regaining both his adult mind and powers as simply a means to an end. And if he can't be a hero with his abilities restored, he will still be a hero. He's already saved Parkman's romance.

(Hiro is actually reminding me a bit of my mom right now. She has messed her leg up but good. Again. Maybe permanently this time. And she is irritated about not being able to do what she usually does, but chalks up her inconvenience to not having what she needs for the circumstances: a wheelchair, someone to walk her dog, handrails. She has a plan. She's going to get those things, and everything will be fine.)

Rudolph, redux

Way back in December of aught-six, I considered that perennial classic, Rudolph, the Red Nosed Raindeer from a disability standpoint. And now, in November 2008, Ces Marciuliano sends up the cantankerous, small-minded Santa of that stop-motion favorite.

Santa in 4 panels
To Donner: "Hey, if I didn't build Dasher an office ramp after the bus accident I'm sure not gonna put your handicapped son on my team, Donner..."­
To unseen elves: "'We are Santa's Elves'...Well, maybe next time, invest in an electric pump before committing musical abortion."­
At dinner, talking about the Misfit Toys: "They're misfits!!! I can't deliver misfits! Even blind kids would know they got fucked."
Angry, to unseen Momma Claus: "Do you think I wanted to hit you, Momma?! Do you?!"
Final caption: The not-so-endearing Santa of "Rudolph."

Who are these freaks?

It's Blogging Against Disablism day, and I actually have a post up for it!

Elizabeth of Screw Bronze! got me thinking more about how I see myself. And how, from my perspective, I'm absolutely normal. It's everyone else who is weird. What do you mean, you don't pick things up with your toes? You have a hard time with clothes that have back zippers and you can't scratch your own back without a tool? When something is just a little too far away behind you, you actually move back toward it instead of subluxing your shoulder and just reaching further? How freakish! I don't know how you can live like that.

MD and I were talking about this earlier tonight. We both find that we are surprised to learn how much most other people are built differently than we are. Last week, I learned that one of my sisters can't pull the skin on her shin away from the bone. See, I thought everyone could, but apparently, no, I'm the odd one. MD noticed that her husband's hands and feet aren't nearly as creased as hers. Again, it turns out that he's what passes for average. So that's "normal"? Who knew? Not us.

I suppose that if I were to wake up tomorrow with a "normal" body, it would be nice to not hit the wall of pain that immobilizes me if I can't rest. But I think it would be hard to get used to my new limitations and I'd probably end up breaking something when my body didn't give the way I have come to expect.

We started talking, MD and me, about how our being different and our family members and friends being different than us, is no big deal. On our own, or with certain family members or friends, we aren't disabled. Everything we need to do, we can do. We have what we need to do what we need at the pace we need. It's only in going out into the world that we find ourselves disabled. I'll find myself having to carry too much weight or bend over too often, and parts of me will start going numb from pain or subluxation. There will be heavy doors I cannot open, steps and ramps I cannot climb. Though most people can't look at me and tell that I am disabled, that door, that incline, disables me. MD is tall and robust looking. She also has a large side helping of autonomic dysautonomia to go along with her serving of EDS. So, yes, she does need to sit down. Right now. In fact, she's going to lie down for a moment. Offer her a seat, and she'll take it. Refuse a place for her, she's still going down.

To us, it all so unnecessary, these doors, those stairs, that lack of seating. We go to our respective homes, and the disability falls away. We are our own normal again. And we wonder, who are these freaks who design a world that disables people?

To Boldly Limp Where No One Has Limped Before

Incited to embrace my geek self by Emma (so blame her), I'm going to write a bit more about Star Trek and disability. I brought it up earlier, talking about "Is There in Truth No Beauty?" (ITITNB) in reference the the blind acupuncturist story.

Emma mentions Geordi, the blind engineer in Next Gen, asking how his situation compares with that of Miranda Jones. I'm not all that hep on TNG, so be ready to flame me with the hot coals of Trek wrath for my faulty knowledge on that score. But as to Miranda Jones in ITITNB, I will dare to speak.

Jones is introduced as an anomaly, a telepathic human who went to Vulcan to learn how to shut out the voices and emotions, both hers and others', that invaded her consciousness, as well as getting a respite there by being around people who knew how to keep their thoughts to themselves. She went on to become a psychologist, a profession in which being able to read other's thoughts might be an advantage. She's on board the Enterprise to assume a post as ambassador among a species that only communicates telepathically. That species, the so-called Medusans, are said to be so ugly that looking at them induces insanity. This is pretty unbelievable, since when Kollos, the Medusan ambassador to the Federation, is shown (to the extent that it is), it appears to an energy creature that can hide in a box. Maybe there's some sort of optical trigger that gets set off in corporeal minds, that is understood by those dealing with the unfortunates who had been exposed as "ugly." That I could buy, coming as I do from a personal background of migraines and seeing MD's seizure troubles; there's nothing like a bad flicker to make life unpleasant and painful.

OK, where was I? Oh, yes. Miranda Jones. Seems she was second choice for the job, which was originally offered to Spock. And seems she is feeling that others think she must be inadequate to the task if she was second choice, so one of her fashion accoutrements is a giant chip on her shoulder. The other is a fantastic web-like lacey affair that she wears over all her other clothes. It's quite lovely. I want one. And it is what makes Miranda Jones like Geordi LaForge. With it, she can sense the physical world around her, even being able to read heart rates and body temperatures. Seriously, why isn't everyone wearing one of those things? Looks great and beats the heck out of LaForge's plastic hair accessory. The other fashion accessory introduced is the IDIC, a piece of jewelry that Spock describes as representing Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. Jones thinks he's wearing it rub in her face that he's a better telepath than she is. Whatever his reasons, the idea of IDIC plays throughout this episode.

Back to our story. The sensory features of Jones's fashion statement are not revealed to the command crew until well into the episode. Before then, she gets the opportunity to jilt a lover, who decides that he can change Jones's mind if he shortcircuits the mission through murdering Kollos. Bad Decision Dinosaur would approve, for the obvious result is bwahahahahaha madness (not your garden variety mental illness, but the kind common only in Gotham City). In his agitation, loverboy Larry overcomes the entire engineering crew, navigates the ship to some unknown place outside the galaxy, and conveniently dies. The Big Three decide that their only option to finding their way home is for Spock to mindmeld with Kollos, since the Medusans have mad skillz in interstellar navigation. Jones would try to stop Spock, so Kirk decides to try his own loverboy routine on Jones in order to distract her.

With Jones and Kirk alone in the ship greenhouse, we learn that Jones went to Vulcan not just to get telepathic training, but to get away from human emotion, of which the worst, she says, is pity. Totally convinced of his own irresistable charm, Kirk yammers on about how she's going to miss being with her own kind, seeing and touching other humans. He moves in to close the deal he's making, inadvertantly exposing his thoughts to Jones. Too late, she races to stop Spock. Kollos has agreed to the plan (Spock having worn some sort of red filter that makes chatting with Medusans no problem whatsoever for Vulcans). Jones protests that she could learn all about navigation intantly and that it would be less dangerous for everyone if they let her do it instead. It's at this point that McCoy spills the beans about her blindness, telling her that piloting a starship is not among the things that her accessability device allows her to do. Spock and Kirk marvel at her overdress, Spock obviously geeking out on the tech. Seriously, if circumstances were different, Spock and Jones could completely hang together. They're both aloof, intelligent, annoyed by emotional display and willing to take chances. Spock asks why she thought it was necessary to conceal her blindness, what with it being so handy in dealing with the Medusans. Kirk, who previously had been baffled by her comment about pity being the worst of all human emotion, now buys a clue into the social model of disability, completely seeing her point that there were people who not let her succeed on her own merits if they knew she was blind.

Kollos, in its box, is brought to the bridge and placed behind a temporary divider. The meld goes smoothly, the ship gets safely home, and Spock/Kollos forget to put the red filter glasses back on. Thus the unmelding results in a dangerously agitated Spock, who gets put down with a phaser and dragged off to Sick Bay. Kirk and McCoy implore Jones to mindmeld with Spock, in hopes that she can bring him around. She reluctantly agrees but after several hours, there is no improvement. McCoy is resigned to Spock dying, but Kirk wonders if Jones is actually trying, what with her being professionally jealous of Spock. He barges into Sick Bay, where he finds that Jones has removed her webbing thing. He doesn't mention it, but picks it up, looking at her as she keeps asking who has entered. He glowers in fury, taking her relative state of undress for indifference. He then launches into her, saying that he thinks she's a cold-blooded jealous bitch who doesn't care about anyone but herself, and that if Spock died, it would be her fault for not giving a rat's ass. He storms out, leaving Jones standing like someone just hit her in the face with a particularly smelly mackerel. Kirk tells McCoy that he wasn't sure he did the right thing, seems confused and troubled by her being actually blind: "She was blind. Really blind. Really in the dark." Or is he referring to her not understanding her own feelings? But Jones shows that she can take criticism, deciding that she really wasn't trying very hard. And how does she show this? She puts on the lacey overdress, right? Nope. She leaves it where it was, and turns around to put her heart into getting Spock back to his usual self.

With Spock restored, Jones and Kollos prepare to leave the ship. Before departing, Jones thanks Kirk for the chewing out, saying that it enabled her to understand herself. After all, she had made it a point to block out her own feelings, so she really had become unaware of the scope of her motivations.

What did this episode really have to say about disability? Blindness was never presented as a hindrance to Jones in anyway. It was, in fact, a useful characteristic because it allowed her to deal with the Medusans directly. The disabilities she faced were societal (pity, and a lack of accessibility) and the usual individual ones that cut across the whole of humanity (jealousy, lack of personal insight).

Now, how does that one episode compare to the many in which Geordi figured? Well, Geordi doesn't feel a need to hide his blindness, so there's obviously been some progress. And for both, there is never a question among the humans about their right to existence as people with disabilities. I guess that's one of the lessons learned from the terrible Eugenics War of the 1990s. But I like that, for Jones, blindness is a trait that can be good, part of the entire package which makes her ideal for her job, and is otherwise no more important than the color of her hair. I don't remember Geordi ever being in a situation where being blind was an actual good, though I do remember a couple of episodes where it made him the weak link in the chain. I don't include having tech as part of the actual good. Jones being blind was good whether or not she wore the lacy thing. Geordi being blind was good only when being able to hack the banana clip was useful.

TOS took a similar approach to disability in "Plato's Stepchildren." There it turns out that Alexander's dwarfism is actually a good thing, because it has saved him from the fate of being an Insufferable Prick. He's the one that, as a viewer, you are expected to identify with: The little guy (both figuratively and physically) being pushed around by powerful interests mostly concerned with increasing their own standing. Kirk assures Alexander that, when he leaves the planet with them, that there will be plenty of other people of short stature and that being a dwarf wouldn't be any barrier to him. Even though showing rather than telling would be more effective, we are supposed to assume it is true. Probably that Eugenics War legacy, again. What I really like in "Plato's Stepchildren" is that Alexander--when given the choice--makes a conscious choice to identify as disabled in a society in which the only disability that matters is lack of telekinesis.

They were treating you the same way they treat me, just like me only you fight them. All the time, I thought it was me, my mind that couldn't move a pebble. They even told I was lucky they bothered keep me around, and I believed them. The arms and legs of everybody's whim. Look down. Don't meet their eyes. Smile. Smile. Those great people... they were gods to me. But you showed me what they really are. Now I know. Don't you see? It's not me or my size. It's them! It's them! It's them!

When offered the drug that would counteract his "biochemical deficiency" also responsible for his dwarfism:

You think that's what I want? Become one of them, become my own enemy?

Look at that. By himself, Alexander had adopted his society's disablism. But when he had the chance to bond with other non-telekinetics, he came to respect himself and understand the social model of disability. Isn't disability culture a beautiful thing?

Of course, not all is sweetness and light for folks with disabilities in the TOS generation. Despite all the progress made on other fronts, medical care for veterans injured in the line of duty remains grossly inadequate. Just ask Capt. Pike.

Blind acupuncturist

A woman in Austin is trying to get licensed as an acupuncturist. She was turned down the first time, despite passing her classes and test, for the simple reason that she is blind.

My first impression, gathered from the article I read, was that the state licensing board was acting out of prejudice:

Meng-sheng Lin is the licensure committee chairwoman, and the Dallas acupuncturist said she's inclined to repeat her vote against [Juliana] Cumbo's application.

She said she's trying to fulfill her duty to protect the public.

Lin said acupuncture can lead to bleeding that if unnoticed could pose a contamination risk.

Good grief. A blind acupuncturist might cause bleeding? Heck, my sole experience with acupuncture was with a sighted acupuncture student, who seemingly mistook me for a voodoo doll. I have complete confidence that a blind person couldn't do any worse, and might potentially do something novel, like pay attention to what they were doing. I would sooner try it again with Ms. Cumbo.

But maybe I'm just being silly. Maybe, like piloting a starship*, acupuncture is one of those things that blind people just can't do.

But, no, apparently my first impression was the right one. Google Book Search brings me Understanding Acupuncture, by Stephen Birch and Robert Felt. In Box 3.2 on page 96, they relate Birch's "good fortune" in studying with a blind acupuncturist. Perhaps the Texas licensing board should buy themselves a few copies of this book.

There's a whole tradition in Japan of acupuncture being done by blind practioners. Some fellow named Waichi Sugiyama invented the insertion tube for the needles way back in the 1600s. Did I mention he was blind? He then went on to found acupuncture schools to teach the craft to others who were blind. Both the Kiiko and Toyohari acupunture styles were developed by blind acupuncturists, though also taught to those who have the misfortune of being distracted by vision. A third of all Japanese practioners are blind.

I'm now seriously wondering about the credentials of the Texas acupuncture licensing board if they don't know this history already.

edited 2/9/08 when I finally remembered the wording I was going to use

__________________________________

*Star Trek, Original Series, "Is There in Truth No Beauty?" Dr. McCoy reveals Miranda Jones' blindness when she demands to be taught to navigate the ship. I rather like the episode overall--McCoy felt that her blindness was nobody's business up to that point. Maybe few writers in the 1960s just could imagine adaptive technology well enough to consider that perhaps blindness might not be the barrier they thought it must always be to driving anything? Aside from that, the message of the episode, that pity is inappropriate and serves to hinder the person objectified with pity, is well done. Jones has the regular assemblage of human failings, which drive her relationships and behavior, but among them is not her blindness. If she has a "handicap," it would be her telepathy--the superhuman sense she has--because it makes her extremely uncomfortable around other people. But that, too, is accepted as just part of "infinite diversity." OK, enough geeking out. Well, for the moment.

Almost

I regularly read Octopus Pie, and for a brief moment, I thought that it might be going to slip in some disability awareness. But not this time, apparently.

When Hannah complains about being a cripple "doomed to society's mediocre scraps and reassuring backpats," and then Eve actually gives her a reassuring backpat, I expected the rest of the strip to follow through. But instead, Hannah storms off and Marek and Eve, respectively, excuse her anger on account of being disabled and deny her right to be angry.

Maybe in the next intallment? Not that there's any guessing. I read it in part because the storylines don't have a particular point to them, though they do have an arc.

Mobility Impaired

The news from Malaysia is that AirAsia is pioneering new depths of discriminatory behavior. While using the slogan "Now Everyone Can Fly," Air Asia has a policy of refusing to sell seats to anyone who may require boarding assistance. Apparently, Air Asia uses old fashioned steps on the tarmac instead of jetways. I can see that, in less developed regions, jetways may not be feasible immediately. But not being able to get on a plane without help shouldn't mean not having to fly at all or, as AirAsia suggests, paying for and bringing along your own care provider.

AirAsia comsiders anyone who can't climb stairs to be "completely immobile." That is ridiculous. I can't get up and down stairs easily (Yeah, I can do it, if no one has anywhere to go the rest of the day) and I can't even traverse a jetway under my own power in the seconds set aside for boarding. But I am not completely immobile. I can even mow my own lawn, in small sections over several days. But apparently I couldn't fly AirAsia. Most people with disabilities are not "completely immobile," but AirAsia is doing its level best to redefine "needs a bit of help" to mean "cemented in place." Way to exemplify the social model of disability!

Fortunately, Malaysia's Barrier-Free Environment and Accessible Transport Group (BEAT) is fighting the discrimination, pointing out that AirAsia's rules keep pregnant women and senior citizens, as well as people with mobility impairments, from being able to fly AirAsia. Best of luck, BEAT!

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

The newly remastered Rudolph is on. It's gorgeous, and it tells the story of the evils of socially constructed disablism. But, damned, it sure is disturbing.

First, Donner's initial reaction on seeing his son's physical difference is to demand that Rudolph wear a cosmetic prosthetic. When Santa (Santa!) sees the "deformity," he attacks Donner for siring defective offspring and warns that even a prosthetic doesn't cut it with him.

Months go by, and we see nerdy elf Herbie being ostracized for his atypical behavior. Is Herbie an Aspie? Whatever, he sure doesn't "fit in."

Meanwhile, the other reindeer boys discover that Rudolph has a unusual nose. At this, they heap abuse on Rudolph. And these bullies are egged on to do it by the adults. Once again Santa, who acknowledges Rudolph's physical prowess in jumping, again abuses Donner for having a son with a difference, and Rudolph is sent packing.

So far, the only ones who accept Rudolph for who he is are his mother and Clarisse, the girl he is smitten with. Not being vicious bigots appears to be the role of the females in Christmastown, for they certainly aren't welcome as workers or even as students.

Rudolph and Herbie find each other, and mutually decide to make a break for it.  Along the way to where they don't know, they run into Yukon Cornelius who, despite some odd behavior, is brimming over with acceptance and good advice.  The triumvirate travel together, in search of treasure, or, more exactly, in search of searching for treasure.  The Abominable Snowmonster notices Rudolph and begins following them.  This is unfortunate, because Rudolph has taken his society's devaluation of him to heart, and decides to save his friends by putting himself in danger.

So, what do we have so far? A North Pole society hallmarked by disablism and misogyny, with Satan Claus--I mean "Santa"--enforcing this rigid conformity while demanding a cheery demeanor and obeisance from his subjects.   Fortunately, this is a morality play in which the virtues demonstrated by the second class citizens end up saving the day.  A guilt-ridden Donner, Mrs. Donner and Clarice, and Rudolph's friends all set out independently to find Rudolph, who had managed to find his way home on his own just fine.  When they all end up in danger of being Abominable Chow, Rudolph's misfit friends show up in the nick of time to save them all.  And then Rudolph saves Christmas by functioning as a fog light, enabling the newly socially conscientious Santa to embark on a mission of social inclusion.  So, uh.  Yay?

What if turned out that Rudolph couldn't actually save the day?  What if he had just been different but not "special?"  Being different was enough reason for Herbie to be unwelcome, and his horrible difference was to want a professional career.  If Rudolph had been a lousy jumper, if he had had a snotty nose instead of a glowing one, would Santa have continued his exclusionary regime?  I know I am not the only who came away from the show as child with a profound distrust of Santa.

Oh well.  At least, Christmastown doesn't have a Jenny Craig.

Have a spinal chord injury? Need an insult?

Prashant Nair, author of Spinal Injury: So Many Ways to Strike a Chord at the Science Creative Quarterly is very concerned about your sad, pathetic "mere vegetable existence." I don't see how to comment at SCQ, but we can at least talk about him behind his back.