Remembering Our Fallen Soldiers

Every year, for the last four decades, I can’t help but think of all our fallen soldiers who paid the ultimate price and sacrifice. I can’t help but remember their precious lives and what they gave to our world. Having Cerebral Palsy, and knowing what it is like to live a life without the full use of all my limbs, I cannot stop thinking of all our young man; especially our injured boys who once had full use of their bodies. Now, they have to deal with something they never new before. Now, their lives have been altered for good- and now, they are left to pick up the pieces and to hopefully be positive and set an empowering example for other.

I remember the day my mother called me up at work. I remember her voice and how it sounded- I remember her telling me how we just got word that my cousin died in the Viet Nam war. Oh, how distinctly I remember that event. It never goes away! We were heart broken. We were shocked, traumatized, and devastated. This was a young, handsome man who ate, slept, and drank the idea of becoming a helicopter pilot.

We as his family could not stop him. We had to let go. We had to trust and believe that he would be safe. We had to believe that he would be guarded and protected from harm. We had to give him our love and good wishes to freely live his dreams to his highest. But oh, how special he was! How talented and kind a human being he was- Now an unsung hero who was only acknowledge by his loved ones and family.

And oh how it left my family. Know one truly know what it feels like unless you experience it yourself. The grief is unbearable. And the overwhelming sorrow, that’s a story all on its own. I am sure no one is ever the same after losing a loved one. No one truly ever recovers. Especially the parents!

We, the children, are supposed to outlive our mother’s and father’s. Not the other way around. We are supposed to bring joy and happiness to our family’s lives. Not hurt, and pain. So when it happens, it happens with a huge impact and an enormous bodily sensation such as mental suffering or distress. It causes a massive amount of torture, trauma, and torment.

Thus, I ask all you reading this to love those around you. Be respectful of other people’s wants, needs, and desires. Think less about yourself, and more about giving unconditionally. See what it does. See how it changes you- think less about what you need, and find unspoken ways to do something nice without anything in return. Bring someone happiness today. Show them that you truly care. Show your family or loved one the true meaning of giving from ones heart. Show them before it’s too late. Tell them what you’ve been keeping to yourself before it’s too late.

This Memorial Day let’s vow to make a difference. I dedicate this to you, Jerry.

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Common Courtesy: A Step Up in Communication

What does one think about when writing or sharing written material with other people through Twitter, You Tube, Disaboom, or Myspace.   These modes of communication are to fill and enrich peoples lives, not bring unpleasant experiences. I know how uncomfortable it can be as when I was younger I could not write.  As an infant, I was paralyzed due to a DPT shot.  My body became paralyzed, and I had a severe learning disability which made me struggle pretty much my entire life, although, today, I have learned new ways to compensate, new ways to work through my fears, and I have found new ways to work under pressure.  That is why having a common courtesy is so very, very important as one does not know who they are meeting over the World Wide Web.  While my learning disability is not as severe as it once was, I still have my moments to this day.  That is when being kind, caring, and tolerable comes in.  One never knows whom they may encounter or meet.  One never really knows what they may say while communicating that will offend someone deeply. Now, when I meet individuals like this I don’t let it get to me.   I shrug it off.  I use my positive tools to let it go with ease.

I want you to know that this is not always easy.  In the past 3 decades I have not only learn to overcome and succeed in dealing with my problem, and what others may say, but I have supper seeded all my expectations of what I thought I would become.  It is very humbling to remember that which I came from; as in my late teens, I could not even write a letter by myself.  I remember my mother doing it for me.  So, remembering this helps me to keep my communication skills up.   It helps me to stay very humble and modest.  The other thing that keeps me unpretentious is being myself and not coming off knowing that I know it all, egotistical, or un-kind.  I have never for the sake of it just been un-caring, to others.   I have always reach out with a warm  concern about others and a concerned feelings to rise people up, not to tear them down!  That is a common courtesy we aught all have.  While speaking to other people and communicating with others it is nice just to be nice-  I think twice about how I would like to be treated when I write back to someone writing to me.  I don’t want to come across too abrupt, too conceded, or even too contrived.  I remember always that people have feelings too, and that their feeling count just as much as mine.  I remember you can’t take back words once you’ve spoke or written them- I also remember that while reading other peoples emails, writings, and blog entries to be kind always as I know what I reflect out to others, is a direct indication of my attitude and well being.  So, I am not so quick to judge anyone.

I also remember when I was in my mid twenties, I remember a dear, dear friend lifting me up by sweetly saying…” write what comes to your heart and mind and put it to paper.  And so I do the same now.  I pay it forward.  I want you to know I took to heart my friends empowering words and have been writing ever since. So I am the last to say a critical word!  I have not only written an autobiographical, “THE BROKEN HOOF" but I write for two different disability magazines.  I make sure my writing can help someone in some way.   I make sure I write a whisper of hope to encourage and empower.  A whisper to lift and rise.  And a whisper to show that one truly cares!

My writing has become a tool in which I express myself.  It is something I love to do, and find fulfillment in.  I take much pride, and joy, in the things I write and share with the world.  They have meaning.  I try to teach and impart a personal closeness in what I am trying to convey to my readers.   Writing for me is very therapeutic.  It is an instrument to meet others that have the same interests as me;  as well as  helps me get comments and informal come backs from others.  It is a way for me to center myself after an especially busy day.  And, it calms me down, as helps me listen to that quiet, still, inner-voice of mine.  Moreover it gives me a reason to sit down for a few minutes, all alone in the quietude of my own inner being.  This is something I can give my all to.  Something I can rejuvenate myself with, and something I can transcend, surpass, and go beyond any thought I might have or chose to develop.  It gives me that sound strength to scribe on.

Writing has not only become fun for me, but it has become a vital implement to share, teach, and express my feelings and emotions by which I choose to share as a messenger.  It has become a certain kind of vehicle to which I can convey.  Thus, we who have been selected and gifted with this amazing tool and means, let us be a positive instrument for all to convey this common courtesy.

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Promise of the Park

“The Promise of the Park”

Friday, February 5th, 2009

REVIEW by Professor of American History Sean Dineen, MA, Kean University, NJ

The history of disability inclusion began earlier than you think, although the issue has always been a struggle. We in the Disability Community have spent our lives watching the struggle for inclusion unfold, bit by bit, inch by inch, and sometimes, by the grace of God, triumph.  It is very easy to fall into the misunderstanding that no one was really thinking about “our issues” prior to 1973.   It was my pleasure to learn that this is not true at all.

I recently observed Theatre in Motion’s musical play “The Promise of the Park,” a fetching, time traveling tale about the first American park open to everyone, New York City’s Central Park, and its maverick first Architect in Chief, Frederick Law Olmsted, Sr. “The Promise of the Park” is well-researched and handsomely written by Ms. Leslie Fanelli (Artistic Director and Founder of Theatre in Motion). The performance I saw was engagingly fresh and exciting, juxtaposed to the fact that Central Park’s history germinated in the nineteenth century.

It took sixteen years to build and officially open the park in 1873. This was a full century before the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, which laid the foundation for equality in education and physical accessibility in government buildings in the twentieth century and beyond.  In the nineteenth century, Mr. Olmsted and his co-creator, Calvert Vaux, designed Central Park as largely physically accessible via the use of ingenious landscape architecture—specifically, the park’s sunken transverse roads. These sunken roads separated “the frantic zeal of the cross-town traffic” from “the rustic beauty” and patrons traveling about the park. In fact, in the original 1857 design called “The Greensward Plan,” Olmsted and Vaux had pointed out that the transverse roads would allow for the inclusion and safety of people with disabilities—and ladies (in big, hoop skirts)! Olmsted and his two sons would go on to design thousands of American landscapes, and in 1893, Olmsted, Sr., designed the grounds for the spectacular Chicago World’s Fair. He also designed breathtakingly beautiful grounds for a number of hospitals. In this arena, he was brilliantly ahead of his time because he espoused bright, air-filled treatment rooms, in place of the stark “cells” of the era. Plus, of course, he believed his lovely grounds to be naturally therapeutic. It is ironic that he spent his last few years after acquiring dementia in the McLean Psychiatric Hospital, where he had previously designed the becalming scenery.

Throughout his career, the genius landscape architect Olmsted saw the need to use public spaces to bring people together.   In a time when any concern for the non elite was dismissed as radical, or dispensed with the disdain of paternalistic disengagement, a public park for all humankind to share—black and white, rich and poor—was unheard of.  Even before he sustained his decided, permanent limp in a frightening carriage accident, he understood the need to integrate those with disabilities into his parks, and by extension, the wider world. In fact, as Ms. Fanelli’s play reveals, he designed the first wheelchair accessible trail to the top of Mount Royale in Canada in the 1870’s.

The play is executed in a whimsical, yet compelling manner, like all of Ms. Fanelli’s vibrant works. In “The Promise of the Park,” she is director, actress, and singer—in addition to being the playwright. Her teenage persona (along with her friend and conscience, “Amy”) is played with zest and humor. Ms. Amelia Fowler as “Amy” is endearing, piquant, and funny in her role. In one scene, they are having a picnic in the park when, to their disbelief, they encounter Olmsted himself, who has traveled through time to see his beloved park in the twenty-first century.   Initially, they cannot believe that Olmsted, whom they have never heard of, is anything more than an actor or confused soul, but he is able to convince them that he is, in fact, Central Park’s first Architect in Chief. That accomplished, the three share an exciting journey back into the park’s creation, after which, they time travel forward into the present to better understand and heed the critical environmental concerns facing the world now.

I would be remiss not to mention Bill Houpt at the piano—a fine, keyboard “one man orchestra.” He not only plays the pleasing accompaniment, but plays the sound effects, as well.

The lion Olmsted, brought to life by Mr. William Dembaugh, experiences great wonder at this new world. He believes a jet plane to be a new bird, and the tall buildings on the perimeter of the park to be incredible structures, especially because in 1873, there were virtually no buildings surrounding the park—and certainly none as tall as today’s skyscrapers! He proceeds to teach and mentor the two young people on how to protect this park treasure that he has given to everyone. “The First American People’s Park.”

As the mighty protagonist Olmsted, William Dembaugh is humbly resplendent. His exquisite, tenor voice captures the beauty of Olmsted’s life and work. The entrancing music, created by an artistic team headed by Ms. Susan Mondzak, is delightful and, when needed, dramatically engaging. “The Things I See” and “Back in 1873” are bracing, musical stand-outs. With regard to the musical drama, Mr. Dembaugh is careful to portray Olmsted not as an archaism, but rather, a forward-thinking, inclusive artist.

Yes, indeed, the history of disability inclusion began earlier than you think.

Frederick Law Olmsted, Sr.—a man of his time, a patriarch before we knew what that really meant.

Theatre in Motion is an award-winning, professional, non-profit theatre company that features intergenerational creative and performing artists with and without disabilities—serving intergenerational audiences with and without disabilities via original dramatic and musical productions.

Theatre in Motion’s New Music CD, “The Promise of Central Park,” is available at CDBaby:

http://cdbaby.com/cd/theatreinmotion

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