CP Shoes

CP Shoes marched today at the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. And, by marched I mean pedaled an adaptive trike.

Out of such marches might well emerge a potent political expression of the alliance I have urged— an alliance for the democratization of our political, economic and social institutions.

There’s a story about Dr. King and his father going shoe shopping. It’s similar to the story one that Maya Angelou shared about shoe shopping with her grandmother. 

From the Autobiography of Martin Luther King

“I always had a resentment towards the system of segregation and felt that it was a grave injustice. I remember a trip to a downtown shoe store with Father when I was still small. We had sat down in the first empty seats at the front of the store. A young white clerk came up and murmured politely:

"I'll be happy to wait on you if you'll just move to those seats in the rear."

Dad immediately retorted, "There's nothing wrong with these seats. We're quite comfortable here."

‘Sorry,’ said the clerk, ‘but you'll have to move.’

‘We'll either buy shoes sitting here,’ my father retorted, ‘or we won't buy shoes at all.’

Whereupon he took me by the hand and walked out of the store. This was the first time I had seen Dad so furious. That experience revealed to me at a very early age that my father had not adjusted to the system, and he played a great part in shaping my conscience. I still remember walking down the street beside him as he muttered, ‘I don't care how long I have to live with this system, I will never accept it.’”

Happy birthday, Dr. King. Thank you for your work and for the work of so many others who fought for civil rights and integration in every aspect of American life, from the right to vote to the right to be treated equally in shoe stores. 

Still more work to be done. 

http://www.newstimes.com/default/photo/American-civil-rights-leader-Rev-Martin-Luther-516631.php

Image descriptions:

1. Converse shoes pedaling an adaptive trike amidst a group of people. 

2. Converse shoes pedaling an adaptive trike amidst a group of people. A wheelchair is visible in the background.

Sitting Pretty with Rebekah Taussig

Who or what inspires you to feel #PerfectlyMe? We’ve teamed up with @seventeen to celebrate people who are inspiring confidence on Instagram. Use the hashtag to share your story.

“My version of #PerfectlyMe is letting go of the never-ending fight to be someone else. #PerfectlyMe invites ME back into the equation, not as a form of settling for myself, but as an act of welcoming that self home, accepting her singularities, celebrating her deviance.” —Rebekah Taussig (@sitting_pretty), a writer, teacher and PhD candidate who lives in Kansas City, Missouri.

“Growing up with a disability, I developed a lot of coping mechanisms early in life — detaching from my body, always smiling no matter what I was experiencing on the inside, never admitting sadness or shame. Even when I received the positive affirmation I was seeking, it was never enough to make me feel full. With time — so much time — I’ve been working to shift that burden of acceptance to myself. Accepting myself frees me up to actually experience life — to use this instrument I’m living in.

Developing my own personal style has always been pretty important to me. It’s not so much that I get enjoyment out of being on trend but more so that I thrive off of the theatrics of getting dressed up and the buzz of creating a look.

I can remember experimenting with clothes when I was young and feeling as though they were the perfect way to express the different parts of my personality and to show people exactly what was going on in my head on that particular day. My family also encouraged me pick my own outfits from an early age and of course this lead to some questionable decisions on my part but I feel as though this was one of my first creative outlets.

It was through creating these different looks that I discovered that you can’t control how people perceive you but you can influence it by the way you present yourself to them. You see, as a person living with Cerebral Palsy, disability is a big part of my identity. Its had a considerable impact on the way that I see the world and the experiences I’ve had because of it have played a huge part in shaping the person that I am today. So my disability is not something that I’ve ever wanted to cover up or hide, in fact it’s something I’m very comfortable highlighting in what I wear day to day.

I often match my mobility devices with my clothes or place them prominently in my pictures on social media and I think this is something that still surprises a lot of people. I believe that a lot of people still hold so many misconceptions about disability, that the idea that a people with a disabilities can be just stylish as anyone else is still very new to them and that the idea that disability can in fact contribute to developing  style is completely abstract to these people. This is evident to me as a part time wheelchair user as I get way more compliments on my look when I’m in my chair and my disability is more visible, as apposed to when I am walking.

However when they see me, embracing who I am and appearing as though I want to stand out from the crowd. It’s as though you can see the misconceptions just floating away. They realise they don’t have to feel sorry for me and that my disability doesn’t take away from my individuality.

For me it just makes sense that if I am going to stand out regardless of the way I dress, I may as well do it with style. With fashion I feel as though you can embrace a body that is not seen as normal and show it off as something cool and interesting. For me fashion is a weapon to change perceptions. 

I’m not alone in this, I know so many badass guys and gals owning their bodies, disability and all, through their wicked style and I hope that this is something that will get more attention from the fashion industry its self.  

Celebrating Scuffed Shoes and Commemorating the Capitol Crawl

On March 12, 1990 a group of activists with disabilities engaged in direct action to accelerate the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) and attain greater civil rights for people with disabilities. The many of the activists left behind their mobility aids crawled up the steps to the US Capital and obstructed the entrance to the Capitol, demonstrated to members of Congress the physical barriers they encounter on a regular basis. The ADA passed in July of 1990, and the Capitol Crawl is often credited as increasing Congress’ motivation to pass the civil rights legislation.

Among the activists was seven-year-old Jennifer Keelan who has cerebral palsy. In the video above, she is seen telling reporters, “I’ll take all night if I have to!” If you’re curious about what Jennifer is like today, here is a video of her from 2010 reflecting on her experience at the Capitol Crawl.

I have watched the video of the Capitol Crawl many times, and every time I watch Jennifer, I think about how scuffed and busted up her shoes must have been by the time she reached the top of the steps. And, then I am grateful for every single smudge, scuff, scratch, and hole in my own shoes.

One of the most difficult things to hear is when someone is happy that I don’t let it stop me. Both because I’m not sure what it really means and it’s not true.

My disabilities stop me, daily. I am not ashamed of this. They are not the only thing stopping me, nor would being fully abled open every door that’s been shut. I live at an intersection. I work with what I have. I’ve learned to ask for accommodations and do what I need to make sure my needs are met. Sometimes even with my best efforts, I’ll fall short and need to stop.

The idea that if I stop I fail is damaging. Self care is more; it allows leeway to stop and restore ourselves before we burn out. Do we lack the language to appreciate our ability to be bodily fragile and still show up for ourselves? Let’s stop pitting our bodies against us as though they’re separate.  

She doesn’t let it stop her.  

ahh i have the same problem, the shoes in that pic are probably the biggest i can handle because my ankles don’t bend, but even with those i have problems standing (i can only stand if i hold my legs straight so my feet need to be flat on the floor). plus it fucks with my posture when i’m in my chair if i wear them. 

the only thing i’ve ever seen is a footplate for a manual chair which tilts to allow for the way your ankle bends when you wear heels. I don’t know about any other solutions.

One of the most difficult things to hear is when someone is happy that I don’t let it stop me. Both because I’m not sure what it really means and it’s not true.

My disabilities stop me, daily. I am not ashamed of this. They are not the only thing stopping me, nor would being fully abled open every door that’s been shut. I live at an intersection. I work with what I have. I’ve learned to ask for accommodations and do what I need to make sure my needs are met. Sometimes even with my best efforts, I’ll fall short and need to stop.

The idea that if I stop I fail is damaging. Self care is more; it allows leeway to stop and restore ourselves before we burn out. Do we lack the language to appreciate our ability to be bodily fragile and still show up for ourselves? Let’s stop pitting our bodies against us as though they’re separate.  

She doesn’t let it stop her.  

My hands may tremble, but my heart does not.

The quote above is from the founding father Stephen Hopkins, who is often regarded as the greatest statesmen in the history of Rhode Island. By 1776, when Hopkins was approximately 69 years of age, he had a condition known as “shaking palsy.” His condition was known to have been long-lasting, and he frequently used a clerk to write for him during business proceedings and when acting in public life. (Look at that, even the founding fathers utilized workplace accommodations.)  Although it does not appear that his palsy impacted his mobility, as a kind of fun activity I thought it would be interesting to see what kind of shoes the spazzy, well-heeled Stephen Hopkins wore when he became a signatory of the Declaration of Independence. 

In the revolutionary period, men wore what were then known as "low heels.“ Low heels were made out of vegetable dyed leather and had rounded toes with a tongue that came up over the wearer’s instep. To fasten the shoe were large, square metal buckles seen in picture B). Men would have worn silk stockings with their shoes. 

Men also had the option of wearing top boots, seen in picture A, for more general wear. Additionally, men had a number of accessories that they could incorporate into their footwear fashions, including spatterdashes, or what we now call spats.  What is quite  amazing to me in discussing shoe design trends from the late 1700’s is that much like the self-evident truths of the Declaration of Independence, these styles of men’s shoes have achieved a kind of timelessness  and are surrounded with such a cultural memory that they are regarded as a style staple for gentlemanly shoes for most formal occasions. Today, Stephen Hopkins might have worn Hugo Boss and Cole Haan as he walked towards Independence Hall to join his fellow signatories. 

  Whatever shoes he may have worn on that sweltering, hot day in 1776, upon signing the Declaration, his hands shook so much that he used his left hand to hold and steady his right hand as he put quill to parchment and committed himself and the then colony of Rhode Island to participation in the American Revolution. The large size of Hopkins’ signature, which rivals that of John Hancock’s, is thought to be a result of his disability, and his handwriting reveals the shakiness of his hands.

I think Hopkins’ quote (referenced above) provides an excellent foundation for what I would like to call critical patriotism, the truest form of patriotism in my opinion. For one to believe in their country at their core while actively and openly remarking on situations in which they are unsure, wavering, or shaky about their country’s actions and decisions and its impact on the people. In my reading of the founding documents, it was this kind of critical patriotism that the Declaration of Independence sought to generate in the hearts and minds of the American people as the founding fathers began what is an ongoing, iterative process of creating a government that was both of and for the people. I believe this is true today as we must still be vigilant in upholding the revolution and continuing to work  to form a more perfect union, one that holds the rights of all people, including those with disabilities like Stephen Hopkins, to be self evident.

[Image Description: The bottom of a Converse All Star sneaker. The sole has a hole in the toe, and googly eyes have been put over the hole to turn it into a mouth. A shoelace points at the camera.]

UNCLE SOLE WANTS YOU!

[Image Descriptions: Image 1 - A suitcase from the Willard Psychiatric Center. The suitcase contains clothing, belts, and shoes. The shoes are light blue silk mules with wooden heels and cream closures. Image 2 - A cardboard box stamped “Willard State Hospital” with its contents alongside it. The box contained two pairs of black leather boots, a wooden prosthetic leg, and a leather and metal leg brace. Image 3 - A quote in black text on a white background that reads “Q’s competitive income has afforded him new economic freedoms…And with his next paychecks he plans to buy clothes and shoes for himself.” Image 4 - A suitcase from the Willard Psychiatric Hospital. It contains a pair of maroon and brown flats/slippers that have a bow on the toe. Inside one of the shoes is a yellow price tag that reads $1.50. Image 5 - A suitcase from the Willard Psychiatric Center. The suitcase contains a pair of black men’s oxfords and a set of suspenders.]

Shoes, Suitcases, and Supreme Court Decisions: Olmstead Then and Now

This past week marked the 15th anniversary of the Olmstead decision. The Olmstead decision affirmed the constitutionality of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA)  integration mandate and articulated that: 

Public entities must provide community-based services to persons with disabilities when (1) such services are appropriate; (2) the affected persons do not oppose community-based treatment; and (3) community-based services can be reasonably accommodated, taking into account the resources available to the public entity and the needs of others who are receiving disability services from the entity. (Source)

The Olmstead decision declared that unnecessary institutionalization was a civil rights violation and began to remove the institutionalization bias within communities, service provision, and society at large for people living with mental illness and significant disabilities. Lois Curtis and Elaine Wilson were the two plaintiffs in the suit. Both women had mental illness and developmental disabilities and spent most of their young adult lives in various state institutions. Though they completed their treatment, and mental health professionals stated that each was ready to move to a community-based program, they remained in the institution. In 1995, they filed suit under ADA for release from the hospital, and in 1999 the US Supreme Court made the final ruling. Elaine Wilson died in 2005, and Lois Curtis went on to continue advocating for people with disabilities and to pursue a career as an artist. In 2011, she was asked to the White House to meet President Obama.

Lois’ and Elaine’s experiences living in Georgia state institutions were likely not that different from the owners of the suitcases pictured above. The Willard Psychiatric Center, formerly the Willard Asylum and the Willard State Hospital, was New York state institution located in the Finger Lakes that admitted more 50,000 patients in its 126 year existence from1869 to1995. Though it no longer operated as a pyschiatric facility, it is now a drug rehabilitation center for prisoners. (A number of other blog posts could be written just on that.) When the Willard Psychiatric Center closed, a staff person was assigned to go through all of the buildings and determine what should be salvaged.

She unlocked an attic door behind which was a collection of over 400 suitcases containing the possessions of former patients. The cases had been put into storage when their owners were admitted to Willard sometime between 1910 and 1960. (Source)

Upon their discovery, the suitcases went to the New York State Museum and have since been cataloged by photographer John Crispin. Many of the suitcases were untouched since their owners packed them decades earlier before entering the institution. They contained all sorts of items: shoes, clothing, pictures of family and friends, embroidery, silverware, among many other things. Anna, Henry, Marian, and Lawrence all of whose cases are shown here, could have been committed for a variety of reasons: schizophrenia, depression, epilepsy, promiscuity, homosexuality, intense prolonged grief were all reasons someone could be sent to the Willard facility. Regardless of the reason for being admitted to the Willard Psychiatric Center, little rehabilitation occurred and many of the patients received no medication, which makes one wonder why these individuals remained there in the first place. Whether or not “progress” was made or whether a patient advocated for their release, because of prevailing attitudes and barriers and the lack of any policy like the ADA, the vast majority of the patients remained at the Willard until they died and were then buried in the institution’s cemetery in unmarked graves. For inanimate objects, these suitcases do a lot. The suitcases and their contents bear witness to the lives the Willard patients left behind upon being institutionalized. From the contents of the cases, viewers can imagine being Lawrence’s shoes and heading off to work wearing black oxfords and suspenders. Anna attending a party in her blue satin mules or Marian wearing her maroon slippers and teaching her children how to sew. Perhaps Henry’s wooden leg was named Smith. We get a sense of their hopes and desires. We get a sense of their importance and further how that importance was taken away. In addition to showing what was, suitcases and the objects inside them show what could have been had the societal bias towards institutionalization not been present and if community based supports were available to people with disabilities and their families. The suitcases are reminders of the of the Olmstead decision and the ways in which it has positively impacted the lives of so many. There has been significant progress within the past 15 since the Olmstead decision of deinstitutionalization of people with disabilities and the provision of community based services. However within the past 5 years the Department of Justice has found 20 states to be in violation of Olmstead. The most recent settlement occurred in Rhode Island. The Department of Justice found that thousands of individuals in Rhode Island still spend the majority of time receiving employment and day services in segregated sheltered workshops and facility-based day programs where they earn an average $2.21 per hour. Almost half of the individuals in segregated employment settings had been there for a decade or longer, and just over one third of individuals have been there for fifteen years or more even though they are capable of and want to receive employment integrated, competitive employment in the community. Because people were confined to these settings indefinitely, they are prevented from advancing towards independence and economic self-sufficiency and contributing to their communities. For more information see the letter of findings. In April of this year, the United States entered into a statewide settlement agreement with Rhode Island upholding the civil rights of individuals with disabilities who are unnecessarily segregated in sheltered workshops and facility-based day programs. The settlement agreement provides relief to approximately 3,250 individuals with disability over the next ten years. Rhode Island will provide supported employment placements to approximately 2,000 individuals. It will also provide support for high school students with significant disabilities to ensure that they are not tracked into sheltered, segregated subminimumwage employment. One of the individuals who benefits from the Rhode Island settlement is ORQUIDEO or “Q” as he is called. Q graduated from high school at age 21 and then Q went straight into a sheltered workshop, where he worked for 8 years and earned $2.85 an hour doing piece rate work. Since the settlement, Q shared with his job coach that he had an interest in working with cars. They worked together, and Q now earns a competitive salary at an auto-repair shop for 30 hours a week.

Q’s competitive income has also afforded him new financial freedoms…And with his next paychecks, he plans to buy shoes and clothes for himself. (Source)

Fifteen years ago the Olmstead decision asserted that full integration and community inclusion be a reality for people with disabilities. Fifteen years later the enforcement of that assertion is and will continue to be necessary to make such inclusion more than just an aspiration.