How I Prevailed and Progressed Forward

How I Prevailed and Progressed Forward

By Karen Lynn

April 2008

Dear Professor Frare, colleagues, friends, family, and students of the Kean University Historical Society. It is an honor, and a privilege, to stand before you this afternoon. Thank you for asking me to be your guest speaker and to be here today.

It would have hardly seemed possible when I began this quest, for me to stand up before you today and express everything I have worked so hard to overcome throughout my entire live. I am not one to idly sit back on my duff, waiting for others to take action for me, to think for me, or to decide my entire life for me! It has been a long journey. The stakes, very high! But I have survived this path despite all its jagged roads and turns, and more challenge’s than most people could ever imagine. I have almost reached the mountain top and all its glory.

And even thought my shuffle bal-changes were not like Sammy Davis Jr.’s, my taps were like music to my soul. My achievements in dance not only set me free in body and mind, but empowered my sense of worth to move against barriers and odds that seemed impossible to the “normal” person’s eye. This dichotomy between what I knew I could do, and what other people wanted to limit me to, would happen again, and again, and again in every aspect of my life. The image that society has about people inflicted with Cerebral Palsy, or C.P. as the insiders call it; is an image of a C.P young boy or girl staying eternally cute and helpless forever- but in all truth and reality- we C.P.ers grow up to be adult’s, in adult bodies, with the same outer systems we had when we were children. The only difference is that now, our outer manifestation has changed. Puberty has arrived, and we have grown up and matured. We are like everyone else internally, with the same wants, needs, and desires, although, our outer envelopes are very different, externally, in that we are disabled.

We aren’t so cute anymore. It repulses people to see us wrinkling; in hammy down clothes, drooling from the face, and needing help from other’s to accomplish our daily living tasks. To society, it’s not so appealing any longer, it is a turn off, and thus, we are tucked away quietly and conveniently in guild edges detention homes, not wanting to be looked at or visited except for those experts! Thank goodness, I made a decision not to end up in this way. And, thank God, I had the wits and ability before me. I not only had a mother, who shared the same visions and desires as me, but she worked tirelessly to give me that independence even when no one else believed it was possible.

Fortunately for me, my mother had a lot of courage and internal strength. She was a very, very progressive and pro-active person. She had a very special way about her. And though she was very serious about my care and the way she cared for me, she also had a presence and foresight about the things that I was going through throughout my life. She also had a warm, gentle, caring, and most loving manner about herself. I could not imagine having anyone else but her to call my Mama! She nurtured me with words from my ethnic tradition, understanding that I needed the encouragement and room to develop as a person in order to grow and accomplish those things in my life, that were so essential to my being. She prepared me to fit into the landscape of society.

It wasn’t that easy, though, as I am still climbing the ladder to my success. But, I have kept going! I have done to the naked eye, things that have looked impossible. I have learned to hop, skip, jump, and run, in a full length leg brace, when all the “experts” looked at me with their tongue’s hanging out with amazement. My mother knew when to listen and when to stand up for me. One time during my clinic evaluation, my mother insisted that my leg brace be unlocked so that I could walk normally instead of with a locked leg. I learned to dance, while the experts at school would not allow my dance teacher, Al Gilbert to come and teach others, because he did not have a degree, yet, he knew more then the doctor’s or therapist knew! I even got a job, with my mother’s help; as a sales girl. Shortly there after, I was promoted as a PBX switchboard operator, rather then settling for the label of being “Mentally Retarded”, or working in a workshop amongst people who had more severe disability folding boxes.

The very people who should have been cheering me on, and looking outside the box- actually made things worse for me, and hindered my life. I understood all to well about the way the bureaucratic system worked and how unfair, rigid, and out-moded it was. But, I was not going to go away quietly. I kicked, and scream in my own tasteful manner, and let them know that I had a right to an education, even though I had a disability, and needed an alterative approach. The system, its processes, the counselors, along with the tools, methods, and methodologies didn’t work, and they didn’t measure my ability correctly. Regrettably, this is an area where great improvement and research still needs to be made. But the greatest improvement that needs to be made is in people’s understanding.

The fact that I am here standing before you today shows that idea’s are changing.

This university has been a pioneer in accepting disabled people on all levels. It has taken well over 30 years – step by step to get here where we are today. So let us vow to ourselves and the community to do everything possible we can to open our hearts, minds, and spirits to end all discrimination.

In spite of all my kicking and fighting, I made every effort to work though channels, by going along with the “experts,” and having an open-mind, but it did me no good what-so-ever. They just wouldn’t and couldn’t see that I was going to fly despite their authoritative decisions. With all the determination within my gut, I had to do something to turn this around. I had to be positive, and I had to have faith in my own ability to change my circumstances, the system, and how they treated the disabled. I had had all that I could take. I had decided that I was going to be treated with dignity and respect. Thus, I had to be strong-minded and listen to my own heartbeat. I couldn’t be swayed, and I had to have a will of iron in order to face the perilous journey before me. I would have to file a law suit which no one ever filed before. And I would have to spend countless hours writing letter after letter, and phone call after phone call. My dance lessons were simple and easy compared to this mission. Once I sat down with the lawyer who was going to represent me, I felt as though I was dancing without a disability at all. Doing a soft shoe, and using my left foot and toes in the graceful way that I was taught, was like a piece of cake compared to this.

The lawyer mentioned to me that I could either win this presidential Civil Right Case and open the doors for all disabled people, or lose it completely. So, with batted breath, I waited for three and ½ long years, to get the verdict. And, I had won! Six years, from that day, I earned the A.A. degree which was the foundation for everything else I worked so hard to achieve. I would become an adaptive dance and fitness instructor, mastered the art of cooking, and being a responsible, independent, and productive human being. I even perfected my writing skills and publish my autobiographical story, “The Broken Hoof,” which, in its infancy won second prize in the Kaleidoscope Literary Pose fiction Art Award of 1983.

I even was elected to sit on the Executive Board of Protection and Advocacy Inc, developed my own website at: www.whispersofhope.org, and have written many articles as I continue the fight to speak out and make this a kinder and gentle place for everyone to live in. I have given to others without thinking twice about myself in a selfless way.

In closing I will leave you with a few very important thoughts before I answer any questions that you may have for me.… Search your hearts and souls and see how you can made a difference to pay it forward to change our world and someone else life- How can you personally change the course of someone else’s life that needs a helping hand? How can you as a professional personally make a difference? How can you find ways to break down the walls of discrimination that bind individuals from moving up the career ladder of opportunity while looking out side the box? How can you truly mentor and inspire other’s and help them achieve their dreams and choices? How have you personally done something today to value and respect a particular individual’s goals and dreams without judgments or conclusions? And how can you take an active role to help someone who wants and needs the path and way made straight? Can you dig deep to look beyond yourself to mentor and take an active role to make this strangers dreams come true? Can you really value the lives of others by valuing there human rights? Can you honestly turn your backs from competition and competing with those who need it the most? And finally how can we all take an active role in winning the war against discrimination?

A Long time ago, I found a poem by a famous British amputee; William E. Henley. He lost both his legs at the age of 12. When I first read these words in college, these words from Maya Angelou sung sweetly in my spirit. Angelou first sees this as a mark of paternalistic contempt. She is held by a white superintendent in school who has just told her class, to be content to be athletes and cotton pickers. She turns it into an anthem or song of praises for our people and hers. It goes like this… “It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishment the scroll. I am the master of my fate, the captain of my soul.

I leave you with these sweet empowering words- take them home with you today to digest! Think of ways deep within your own consciousness on how you personally can make a positive mark on this world and leave a path behind you that no one else has ever left before.

Thank you for having me here today and for allowing me to share a little piece of my life with all of you. I will now answer any questions or thoughts that may cross your mind. Again, thank you for having me.

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Between Reality and Mythos

Between Reality and Mythos

by Sean Dineen

April 2008 – Volume 4, Issue 4

It is a well understood truth that storytelling is an effective way of explaining how the world works. It does so by distilling large concepts into a manageable and palatable framework of understanding. These concepts transcend race, class, gender, time and age.

The saga we all love was created for a generation growing up, as George Lucas said, "without fairy tales" and the lessons they teach.1 This paper will thoroughly examine a modern fairy tale, finding the similarities it has with the Star Wars saga and the lessons it has to teach the world.

Karen Lynn’s fictionalized autobiography, "The Broken Hoof," is the enchanting quest for a young girl to find the mental, physical, and spiritual power within herself.  With that knowledge, she finds she can take on the universe and restore peace and harmony to herself, her world and the people around her. 

Our tale begins with Kitten, our story’s heroine, being struck down with a bad reaction from a shot and put in a deep sleep. This is common in earlier fairy tales, that the hero or heroine must be taken out of the ordinary universe to transcend an earthly reality. As Joseph Campbell, noted myth expert, declares: "We cannot experience our new life, in the middle of our old one. We must be called out upon our quest."2 The sleep ends with Kitten awakening to find she has a twisted left side, cerebral palsy serving here as a version of the mark of the quest. Kitten’s quest here is to live a life like everybody else and to be treated as everybody else, without the scorn of peers whose eyes cannot see the inner glow beneath the twisted body and facade of a broken outer shell.

Kitten is therefore a parallel to young Anakin Skywalker when he is near-fatally maimed in his dual with Obi-Wan Kenobi. He awakens to find himself encased in armor, but where he required the armor to survive, Kitten must shed hers to thrive in a world of non-supportive, self-absorbed people with no light. Her next step is finding her mentor. Just as young Anakin must race for his freedom and Luke Skywalker must travel in search of Obi Wan, so Kitten must go to her carnival to find Pegasus, the broken carousal horse who became much more. "Suddenly without realizing what she was doing, she found herself strutting towards the crimson booth of the carousel ride."3

Because of her deep willingness to be open to herself and her own spiritual energy, Kitten is the only person who can hear Pegasus speak. "This was a very thrilling moment for Kitten. Within a few minutes he began to talk to her. My name is Pegusas, what’s yours? He whinnied.  He began to utter words."4 He serves as this tale’s version of the midiclorians. As Qui-Gon explains, "They constantly speak to us, telling us the will of the Force."5

Kitten’s openness, her willingness to listen, links her with her new steed. When he is assaulted, her heart bleeds, and she is the only one to bother to rescue him when the carnival closes and these blessed horses are left to rot. "Oh, how dreadful the silence sounded. Something has to be done to save Pegasus and the other horses." He was washed in shadows from the darkest room, buried in a cold hallway. It looked like the horses were tossed into one huge pile."6

Kitten’s dedication to her development and the healing of those around her enables Pegasus to demonstrate his true identity.  He drops his painted on essence and becomes his true spiritual self, as a reward for her faithfulness and selfless love. Just as Yoda, the greatest of all Jedi Masters, appears at first as a childlike gnome, so Pegasus can begin his teaching work unencumbered by the plastic coating hiding his true powers.  For he is an angelic figure here, who shakes the world with his glory.  "She looked, and looked, hoping Pegasus would be there, but he was not.  Behind her she heard a sound building. It was Pegasus. The rainbow stallion trotted up to her."7 "Just then Pegasus awoke, he bent his neck, a neigh came forth. You are real, Pegasus, you are a real horse."8

He goes to work on Kitten’s courage, developing within her a sense of her role as a messenger, showing her that a physical limitation doesn’t have to mean loss of control over one’s own destiny. Just as the Jedi use transcendence of matter and so called physical realities to teach spiritual awareness and connection with energy, so Pegasus creates physical strength in Kitten through running, as well as an inner peace to help Kitten face the world unafraid. The faith shown to her gives her a desire to make the rest of the world more in harmony. She too begins to stretch out her viewpoint to help others. "It’s hard for me to believe it, but you have been transformed.”9

Kitten slowly begins to explore her world. These new undertakings don’t become the same kind of negative attachment for her that Padmé was for Anakin because they are not the only source of stability in her world. Kitten’s awareness of her self is improving. She is now wise and patient, to paraphrase a disabled writers play. "She has value as a child of God."10 During the first Death Star battle, Luke is able to switch off his targeting computer because he has found faith in The Force.  Kitten must undergo her own trial by fire in the form of discouraging white coated experts. Like Admiral Motti, who berates Vader for his reliance on the Force, these experts regard faith in anything they cannot touch and quantify and see as less than pointless. 

Many medical experts are limited to what is earthly visible. Kitten’s awareness of her special gift is a spur to overcome fear and self doubt in the classroom, with her self, and with the larger world – particularly those who see her disability as a mark of disgrace rather than the keystone to a broader more profound vision. It is obvious to Kitten that her greatest enemies come from those who cannot see past the body to her inner glory. As Luke was unable to free his X-wing from the swamp on Dagobah, those who are trapped in this "crude matter" often hinder the great. Pegasus has been sent to remind Kitten that the spiritually awake need not be enslaved by physical trauma. "Particularly though, she felt honored, honored to have touched Pegasus, to have become his friend. He was safe and secure from the walls he left behind." Kitten ran and played the any other girl.11 Her physical strength only exists as an outer reminder of the person she is being led to become. 

Kitten is Anakin given proper encouragement, without his need to shape the world for his own benefit. Kitten is also very similar to Padmé, in that she has become wise through her own crucible, able to see the long term benefit of her own achievement. The new world she is being guided to create exists from her own heart outward. She no longer need fear her own body, but can harness it to give to those around her. She had redeemed the physical universe, just as Anakin at the very last possible moment came back into the light. Trapped within all that machinery and black will was the last remnant of his better self. His love for his son was the one thing that the dark side couldn’t take from him.

The medical establishment in the real world and the Star Wars universe is overly mechanized. They see a client as someone to be altered, not listened to, just as Vader’s medical droids put him back together without consideration for his pain. The rehab process, also very painful, is perhaps best understood to be a challenging of physical and spiritual energy, just like the force.  Kitten has been able to motivate herself to see the eternal truth that relationships matter more than earthly pain and corporeal reality is as nothing compared to spiritual growth and union with the universe.  This power within herself is the same essence which led our great Jedi, the Chosen One, to come back at the last possible moment, and in saving his son, save himself and the galaxy.

Sean Dineen is an Adjunct History professor at Kean University in Union, New Jersey, and a DLITT student

at Drew University in Madison, New Jersey.

Ms. Karen Lynn is one of the last of the pioneers in the movement for inclusion. She has been a mentor

and adaptive dance instructor for more than thirty years. In 2005, she published her fictionalized

autobiography, "The Broken Hoof". She also fought and won the first civil rights case in California,

under the Rehab Act of 1973.

Works Cited

1 A New Hope commentary.   

2 Campbell, Joseph. The Power of Myth, Doubleday, NY, 1960, p 212

3 Lynn, Karen. The Broken Hoof.  PublishAmerica. 2006. p 15

4 Lynn, p 19

5 Brooks, Terry. The Phantom Menace Doubleday, p 57

6 Lynn, p 27

7 Lynn, p 31

8 Lynn, p 35

9 Lynn, p 35

10 Dineen, Sean. Retreat from Destruction, VSA Arts, NJ, 2005, p 15

11 Lynn, p. 53

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Different Stages in a Learning Disabled Writer’s Life

Different Stages in a Learning Disabled Writer’s Life

By Karen Lynn

March 2008

Back in the spring of 1970, I reflect upon the days of my young life. I remember being full of energy, being enthusiastic, and working as a sales girl at Ohrbach’s Department store. Every day I would come to work with a smile on my face and a vibrancy to help all. It gave me a meaning and purpose to get up every day, primp and fuss, look professional, and go out into the big world, and be productive in a powerful way. It also helped me not focus on myself or my disability; as I wanted to fit in, and bring as little attention to my disability as possible. Going to work everyday essentially gave me more vitality and desire to do more and accomplish more for myself.

I remember opening these heavy double glass doors to the department store, and being greeted by security managers who would playfully banter with me. “Hey Kitten, how ya do’in, today? Did you bring the sunshine in with you?” They would say. Some how, my smile brought a warmth to other people’s hearts. But this day was different. This day brought a delight all of its own. This day, I met a very handsome guy. He had black, thick, wavy hair, brown glowing eyes, and a smile that was warm, inviting, and drew me to want to know him more. He was about 5’ 9” tall and was a perfect height for my 5 foot one inch stature. He was studying to become a doctor, and this was just a part time job for him. The mere fact that he was interested in me, made me feel accepted in ways I never did before. It transformed my feelings about myself.

In the beginning we exchanged glances, then words, and eventually he became my boyfriend. He worked in the men’s department, while I worked as a sales girl for all the departments, selling merchandise in these cubicles. These partitions were on the main floor, right near the elevators and escalators. Thus, me being me, I would wave or make cheerful greetings to all those people I began to know and become friend with, young and old. “Hey how ya doing…” I would say. “You got a load on your shoulders don’t ya?” Somehow I drew people’s friendliness out. Even Paul’s! He would stop over at my cubbi any time he was passing by. When he would come off the elevator or escalator, he would ask how I was, or, if I needed any more merchandise. Slowly, there was a silent growing, connection between us. A bond kept building like a crescendo. He would start a conversation out of the blue. Then one day, as I stood folding some clothes, with my stronger un-paralyzed, hand, he walked up to my cubbie, and asked me out. I was so excited, that I was beaming from ear to ear! Paul accepted me for who I was, looking beyond my physical disability.

After all the physical therapy and dance lesson’s I went through as a child and a young person with Cerebral Palsy, (CP) my physical impairment of left side hemiplegia was not that noticeable. All I had was a limp. A foot that was ¾ inches shorted than the other. It was not as distinct as it once was nine years prior to this date and time. I was blessed because my orthopedists told me…“to hang up my full length leg brace in the closet”. So to the lame person’s eyes, it was not obvious, and did not draw attention to me as it once did, because I could wear dress shoes like other women my age and older.

However, there was one part of me that no dance lesson could ever fix. That part of me was my learning disability. Even though I had been passed from class to class, and graduated with so called honors, I really never retained any thing I learned. Despite the fact that my learning disability was not seen, it made it impossible for me to do the things that a “normal” person would take for granted.

So now, my boyfriend was going to Spain to continue his studies. Once he got there, he wrote, but I in return could not write back. I could not find the words to express myself, let alone, put them on paper. This was devastating to me. After all these years of special education classes, and being passed from one grade to another, I still could not construct a simple sentence.

All my younger years flash before my very eyes! It was like a door that had been locked, which slowly opened with all its ghost and goblins before me. It was happening all over again! I struggled, and struggled, and struggled to write to him. I tried putting words together only to erase and ripped the paper beneath me so hard, that it brought back the agonizing memories of me sitting at my desk in third grade, ready to pull my hair out because I could neither do the work in front of me, or complete it. Thus, I started to string words together which hand no meaning or rhyme to anybody. It seemed as though I was putting words and letters together that made absolutely no sense at all to what it was I was feeling or trying to say.

This was the result of an educational system focused on meaningless memorization and structural concepts at the extent of real useful material and learning. My teacher’s never understood that I needed good communication skills and the knowledge of how the world worked to gain the independent life I so much wanted. I sat in a special education class for over four years with work to do by myself, a screen to block out all distractions, and a teacher who came to see how I was forging forward every four hours. It was busy work, not the one-on-one support or skills I needed to build my knowledge, self-esteem, or self confidence. Nor, did it give me the tools to use later on in my adult life to make my needs and desires known, or to interact with the larger world.

Too often learning disabled young people are written off like I was. I was brought up in the 1950’es. If it wasn’t for my dear mother, or her deep concern about my learning discrepancies, my elementary school would have never gotten the first special education teacher in the state of California. My teachers did what they could, but they had definite gaps in teaching, as I had in learning. There focus was on maintaining calm at any cost! Too, often, students with genuine learning problems were lumped together with students with emotional problems, and, behavior difficulties.

Thus, the teachers in these environments have to waste a lot of time pacifying those students while ignoring genuine learning difficulties. There isn’t enough time in the day to teach what needs to be taught. It was an endless cycle for both. We both were frustrated and we both did not have the methods or techniques to reach each others core. Also, these experts did not realize, or think things through for my case and situation. It often looked to me as though they really didn’t want to work to find out what was truly the best for me. Moreover, they never presented a clear plan of practical possibilities. They did not even think ahead and reason that I would someday have to take care of myself, and, that my mother would not live forever. Furthermore, they never even considered that I might have a good head on my shoulders despite my C.P. and a learning disability, and really needed some experts to take a long term view on me individually. I needed these experts to step out of the box, to look past rules and procedure to help me build a long lasting future for myself instead of labeling me mentally retarded on three separate occasions.

They never concurred or conceded that perhaps I had a really good chance to change the course of my life. The Orthodox View during that time was based on a false premise which held that, daily life skills couldn’t be learned in a mainstream work environment. My goal was to succeed in a society that was neither accepting nor forgiving. These “experts”, no matter how hard I tried, were not used to someone of my level of intelligence to speak up for themselves. They didn’t think that perhaps I had a mentality for success. They did not think that if I was taught using methods I could understand and grasp I would go on to a self-sufficient life, far from the workshop mentality they assigned me to labor in as a young girl of 18 years old. I had far more life experiences to spend my time on, then the routine evaluations and folding boxes with one hand that they forced me to go through.

These misunderstandings were based on the idea of a clientele who didn’t have the ability I had. There old-fashioned minded thinking and the lack of “real” discussion, communication and teem work thought they would prevent me from progressing and moving forward in my life. Instead, what they did for me was stimulate my desires to help myself even more. By saying they could not help me time and time again; they activated juices deep within my soul to keep carry on. Inadvertently, they helped to make me a highly motivated person, who would not let society dictate my role. That is where my tenacity to help myself and others came from. I would not, from that time forth, settle for less then what was meant for me to become. But this battle was long, hard, and has spanned throughout the 57 years of my life. Still, I am not finished yet.

These professionals, and these agencies that were designed specifically for the “disabled community,” caused me only to sink deeper into a system that did not recognize; and still does not respect my fullest potential. They dehumanized me, by telling me directly to my face that I should be a sales girl, and told me I had scattered thoughts because I had interest in psychology, sociology, dance movement therapy, and therapeutic recreation therapy. These experts made fun of me in a very patronizing and subtle way. With a shrewd, delicate, and precise way, they were very capable in pulling the wool over my eyes; by labeling me mentally retarded. They indeed prevented me from going on to attain my Bachelors Degree, and Masters Degree; and they caused me to have to search out winning another Civil Rights Case, for my education; which did not succeed.

My mother was a single parent, as my father had died twenty years earlier, and could not afford to pay for tooters, or special educators for me. Nor did I expect her to. The system backfired in my face. They cause me undo strife, conflict, and discord; along with having caused all my legal papers to be sealed and forgotten forever. But this did not stop me! This made me fight even harder and more passionately than ever before. It helped me to defend myself and to return blows in a positive and constructive way. It made my desire even stronger to make my life happen, because there was “no one” who would aid or help me achieve my life’s dreams and goals. I was left all alone to conquer life’s challenges in this world. .

This counselor and all their compatriots did not acknowledge my views or value me and my wishes. They saw me rather as a problem to be handled, rather then to be a person to be developed and validated. They could not, nor were they willing to give me a chance to go out into the big world and live life like every other human being and prove myself.

The best example of this attitude came when I was struggling in second grade. I came home from school one evening with homework that I could not do by myself. So I asked my mother for help. She was so infuriated at the fact that I could not do this homework,, that she took the closest thing that could write, which was her red lipstick, and wrote on the homework itself…”GIVE KAREN HOMEWORK, THAT KAREN CAN DO BY HERSELF!” This humiliated me, and after all these years I still remember that incident, vividly.

So, as I sat there, trying to write my letter, I could not help but think of all the times before me. I really did not want my mother to have to write this letter- as I wanted it to be my letter. I also wanted to prove to myself that I could write a simple letter all on my own, without the help or coaching from my mother. I wanted to express my own feelings, in my own way, in the privacy of my own room.

The tears began to well up, and suddenly I felt licked, crushed, and overwhelmed. I could not even put together a simple letter on my own. I felt defeated. I was so desperate, that I once again turned to the only other person I knew who could help me. That was my mother. And once again my mother took it upon herself to lovingly help me write a letter that would express what I wanted to say to my boyfriend at the time.

That moment changed my life forever. It left a deep, searing, impression in my heart which left a thirst and a yearning to move mountains before me. It also left an intense feeling to be respected as a writer. This was the beginning of a life-long quest to break out of a role that was comfortable for the “experts,” but not for me!

As far as my boyfriend Paul goes, we would only have that summer together. He went his way, and I mine. But that experience was the catalyst that drove me to keep bettering myself.

On this journey, called “My Life,” I was fortunate to find those people, who I dearly call “My Angels,” who could see beyond the person I was. For the next twenty some odd years, I never stopped reaching for my goals. The memory of that experience has driven me to everything I have accomplished throughout my quest. I become a PBX operator, a recreation director, a fitness instructor for the disabled for well over 35 years; I won the first Civil Rights Case, in the state of California, under section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, in 1979. I won second place in the Kaleidoscope Literary Pose Fiction Art contest of 1983; I attained my Associate of Arts Degree in 1985, I sat on the Executive Board of Protection and Advocacy Inc., in 2002, becoming an official advocate for the disabled.

But the most recent of all my latest achievements was publishing my fictionalized autobiography “The Broken Hoof.” This book took me full circle. After twenty years of compiling it, the words I wrote sang sweetly in my heart. I realized that in well over forty years of steadily, struggling on this quest of mine- that my pain was not in vain. I realized I had something to give. I realized I could help others by what I went through. I realized I could bring encouragement, strength, and hope to other people’s lives, in a way that perhaps no one else could.

This has been a journey of all journeys. A quest of all quests! This mission, has led me to developing my own website, Whispers of Hope, located at: http://www.whispersofhope.org,. Along with seeing, that each of these experiences reinforced my ultimate desire to become a motivational speaker. Nothing will ever stop me from pursuing what I desire. And no one will ever stand in the way of my usefulness, or change my honest, genuine, caring nature. Dr. Martian Luther King reminded us, we all have our journey to the mountain top to make.

I would not change one bit of my life’s course. Each experience has made me a stronger, more beautiful, humble, human being. It has helped me to look beyond all circumstance, learn from them, grow, and take what is good from each and every situation. I also learned not to take things as personally as I once did. Now I know how to let things go, laugh a whole lot more, and make light of situations that I once took way too seriously. I know now how to make a win-win situation out of something that is a so-called negative.

Every person who has come into my life and entered my circle, has been a direct descendent of the person I have chosen to become today. I believe in destiny. And I believe that not only were these experiences meant to be, but that these devoted people, who came into my life at the very moment I need them the most, helped me to reach for another attainable star. I believe that there are no mistakes in this world. Everything has a reason and a purpose for happening. I am not only grateful for them, but they taught me to be me… These people gently and sweetly guided me along my voyage with a kind encouragement and knowledge that no “expert” ever had in their hearts to give me.

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Thriving in an Un-Accepting Society and World

Thriving in an Un-Accepting

Society and World

By Karen Lynn-Chlup

February, 2008

Many, many years ago, I was born into this world. I was a delightful, loving, child who smiled continuously, and, who gave my parents only pleasure. But 5 months after I was born, I became paralyzed due to a DPT shot. I fell into a deep coma, not to awake for 10 days. I slept, and slept, and slept, as the doctors were ready to declare me with severe developmental delays, but my sweet spirit soared. I recovered, but not completely- just enough to change my world and to change others who were touched by my presence.

My almost complete recovery was not enough to make me like all the other children in my world, but enough to make me appreciate the two worlds while bringing them together. It implanted within me a spirit and an iron will to over-come my challenges and to be everything the experts said I could never become. My diagnoses- left side hemiplegic, Cerebral Palsy and learning disabled.

In my parent mind, my family knew I was going to need help, but they wanted that help to make me better. They did not want this help to isolate me from the world. One day, in my mother’s busy, active, life, she found a dance school to help build and keep my muscles strong. She found a man with a kind heart, who wanted to give of himself. It was my mama Katie, who was progressive, and wanted me to live a normal life. That was very rare for a child growing up in the 1950’s. And, I over-came more obstacles then most people could count.

Despite a patch-work educational system, bullying from peers and experts, alike, I determined to live life on my own terms. During that era, society considered Cerebral Palsy a one way ticket to a sheltered workshop and I wanted nothing to do with that at all- Thus, I made up my mind that I was not going to be categorized by anyone, let alone a professional or a Para- professional by that means. No one realized at the time how hard I was going to have to work. Also, no one knew what kind of personal determination I had, or how that victory would transform the new world to come.

After being labeled for a second time, I had had ENOUGH! I filed a law suit against California State Department of Rehabilitation, and won hands down. I used my victory to earn an AA degree in English and dance. And after graduation, I became a fitness instructor specializing in adaptive aerobics. My unparalleled contribution is still not known to the common or lay person at hand to this very day. My victory laid the foundation for everything we have achieved since. In everything I have done, I have not only put my life on the line, but I have done it with grace, dignity, laughter, and passion in my heart to help and heal all.

My example is one, the rest of the community could learn well from. The reality is there are many people in this expanded world, who have to be dealt with. Some wish to help, some want to get in the way, and others just want to compete. No one, even if they are in the same circumstance, can conquer anything without a combination of a loving, giving heart, and a strong will, and an intransigent mind.

Whispers of Hope

URL: http//www.whispersofhope.org

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Self Made Destiny

Self Made Destiny

By Karen Lynn

May 2007

Their were fifteen people that evening, assembled all in a circle, arm lengths apart. I walked into the room, and sat down and took my place amongst them. “Good Evening everybody.” “For those new in our class, my name is Karen Lynn. I am your adaptive aerobic teacher.” “Let start the evening exercises with our warm up.” I reached down and turned on my tape player with the prerecorded music. This was not easy for a person with left side hemiplegic, Cerebral Palsy. And the use of only one hand.

But thank God, for my dance teacher’s guidance and my mother’s insight. As the smooth jazz floated through the room, one of my students spontaneously asked me where my interest in dance came from. With my next exercise I began to tell her, “Dance became my life during the first meeting with Al Gilbert, my dance instructor. I was only 3 and a half years old when my mother decided to use tap dance lessons as a tool to build and strengthen my little twisted body.” As I kept teaching, I couldn’t help remembering that I was only 5 months old when I was stricken and knocked into a coma. The experts, wrong as usual, declared I only had a thirty percent chance of survival. Assuming I did survive, I was going to be deaf, dumb, and blind.

I looked up at my students, smiling broadly. “I fooled them all, as you can see, so will you?” And, as I took my next breath, for my next exercise, I noticed another student struggling to say something. “Ms. Karen, I don’t think I can do this exercise. The young student seriously said. “Where did you find the strength, and courage, to carry on in your life?” “I got it through my own life’s experience. If I can do it, so can you, for sure! Something inside of me kept driving me on. I have always, been propelled to carry on with my life in a manor of which most disabled people don’t. I have always been highly motivated to be the best person I could be. When people told me I “could not” or “would not” be able to accomplish going to college, learning English, with a learning disability, or becoming a dance teacher, it only motivated me to push myself even harder to become.”

My student smiled as her arm shot forward in a half circle to the beat of the music. Exercise after exercise the aerobic class moved forward. By the end of the hour I saw a tired but satisfied, group of students. I walked to my car and went home to prepare for my lecture in the morning. I was going to address Sean Dineen’s Civil History’s class. “Ms Karen, what was the hardest part of getting your education? An eager student asked in the second row? “I got tired and angry of being passed from one class to another never learning a thing from my primary and secondary instructors. I was eighteen years old and still could not compose a letter on my own. I worked in the community and didn’t get anywhere. I was tired of not being treated with dignity or respect.”

The students question’s brought back a lot to mind. The pride I felt the day I had my first recital, the burning anger at the “helpful counselor” who insisted for a second and third time that I was mentally retarded, and the joy on my mother face as she saw me get the degree that even she thought was impossible. “So I fought and won the first Civil Rights Case, in the state of California, in 1979. Like your professor, I don’t give up easily.” I laughed inwardly. So many battles, in so many place, it seemed to go on like a vengeance, but I rose above it all, like a warrior.

Professor Dineen then moved to my side, “I haven’t told you the funny part of the story my dear friends, sixteen years after not being able to write a letter, Karen here wrote something else. She was the prize winner of the Kaleidoscope Literary fiction Art Award contest of 1983. She also became a published author of “the Broken Hoof., in 2006.” A story dear to my heart-” For one person to achieve all these triumph seam very hard to believe or ignore. But it was all true.

As we walked out of the classroom, Professor Dineen remarked, “You know Karen, you laid the foundation for everyone else. “I know, Sean, I agreed. That’s why I wanted to teach, I needed to prove to myself that I didn’t have to settle for crumbs that people threw my way. But even so, I’ve had to freelance and accept my destiny in a world that neither recognizes me, nor the price I’ve had to pay. And, I was not able to attain the higher dance degree that I desired.” Then Professor Dineen gave a wiry look. “What do I always say, Karen, the average person would not last a second in our situation. You really did well, my friend.”

We walked out side of the building, into the fall air. With another breath Sean said. “They were really paying attention to you. You captured an interest in then that not even I have been able to maintain.” That made me feel really good inside. “Should I mention that when my article gets written tomorrow, I asked? I’m sure the folks at VSA will want to talk about that!” I declared.

VSA was a disability writing group where I came to read an excerpt of my work to my peers. After reading, I mentioned that I had been taped, back in 1985, while taking a class to show and mention to the world, my successes, and also to show how much I appreciated my mentor and teacher taking the time with me, all those years ago.

The VSA members had been burnt by the same fire I had, and could relate. But came out of it and survived, each in their own way, to make a mark in this world. They were bringing awareness to the world by living life on there own terms, and I was happy to see that I wasn’t alone.

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“If I Can You Can”

By Karen Lynn

April, 07

Many, many years ago, when I was only 5 months old, I became paralyzed due to a DPT shot and a doctor who refused to listen to a wise woman, whom I called mama. Over night, I fell into a deep, deep sleep, and did not wake for 10 days. The doctors declared that I would be deaf, dumb and blind, but I fooled them all. That was 55 ½ years ago. Since then, I have continued to rewrite the scrip of every professional, person, and doctor who had the audacity and nerve to emphatically tell me that I could not reach my highest potential, or dream, and that I couldn’t become!

Well, that happened many times in my life’s unraveling journey. But I rose above it all-

Hi everyone. My name is Karen Lynn, and I have Cerebral Palsy and a learning disability called dyslexia. 18 months after being diagnosed, my mother found a dance teacher in Los Angeles. Dance lessons began and Al Gilbert not only took me under his wing, and gave me his unconditional love, but he taught me to dance. Soon, I was hopping, skipping, and jumping, like other young children my age. And at 11 years old, I was able to hang up my full length leg brace-never having to wear it again.

I am writing you this article not only to inspire you, but to tell you that you are not alone. Anything is possible if you work toward your dreams and believe in yourself. In my day, things were much different. Inclusion was not yet born, and mainstreaming was just around the bend. Because I was not learning like other children, my mother took matter into her own hands and spoke to the principal of the school. Soon thereafter, my school had the first instructor who understood my disability.

Sadly, after her departure, at age twelve, I spent the next 6 crucial years being passed from one class to another, never learning a thing. This pattern reasserts itself throughout my life, and yours. We are forever linking achievement with struggle and wasting precious energy getting around stereotypes and prejudice. That is where my basic thrust for knowledge first took shape, but I got tired of being defined by other people’s rules.

After several years of struggling with all the biases part of the work world, I decided I had to get a degree. There were no if’s, and’s, or but’s! I had no idea I would be making history. My “good friends” at the California State Department of Rehabilitation, demonstrated their usual amount of helpful support. This was the second time, in my life, where I was conveniently labeled mentally retarded because of an I.Q. test. Something within the depths o f my being was afire! The next thing I knew, I fought and won the first Civil Rights Case in 1979 under the Rehab. Act of 1973.

This took place 13 years before the American’s with Disability Act. And to be very honest with you, I am honored and so proud to have laid the foundation and foot work for what came later. As I am sure each and every one of you has done in your very own way. Five years after winning my lawsuit, I earned an Associate’s Arts Degree in Dance and English. That was in 1985, Two years prior to graduation, in 1983, I won second prize in the Kaleidoscope International Prose Fiction Art Awards, for my book in it infancy. Moreover, I became a fitness instructor, and have freelance since I was 26 years old. I have geared my entire life toward advocating and teaching the disabled community. I have given to others what was so freely given to me.

In addition, I have sat on the Executive Board of Protection and Advocacy Inc., as well as Harbor Regional’s, Client Services Committee, in the South Bay, of Southern California. I have participated in 5 different Disabilities Expos where I had my own booths and taught hour long demonstrations. I have also lectured, at universities, schools, and organizations, as well as participating and leading book reading events for VSA Arts, in New Jersey. To make these events possible, I have traveled throughout the United States to give of myself, and our common cause.

But, I must tell you, I am most proud of my recent publication of my book, The Broken Hoof. You can purchase this book at your local book store by special ordering it, or, you can purchase it on line at amazon.com., publishamerica.com, barnsandnoble.com, or bordersstores.com. I welcome you to visit my website at: www.whispersofhope.org and if you’d like to contact me, or arrange an exercise session, or public speaking engagement, please feel free to write or call. You will find all pertinent information on my website. I know that writing this article has been a joy and will help spread the message among all magazine readers in the community.

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Travel and Travail

Travel and Travail

By Karen Lynn

April 07

I woke up early that Wednesday morning, scurried to get ready to hit the security gates of the LAX International Airport. My destination, to reach terminal B, at Newark Liberty, where I would spent five hours on a plane traveling towards the east coast. During the plane ride, the only thing that kept recurring in my thoughts, were reflections of my past. Air travel being what it is today, I had little else to do but think. So, I continued to think and think, and think. I kept thinking of what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. With each twist and turn, a new memory arose. I looked around me. And, as I glanced around, everyone looked so comfortable and relaxed. They seemed to be at peace with the world. And why not! They sat comfortably with I-pods stuck to there ear in a reclined comfortable position with eyes closed, or in seclusion and solitude of their own little world. While I racked my brains, trying to think of what I was going to say, and how I was going to say it for my lecture in a few, short days.

If only they knew what was going through my head. If only they knew where I came from, and what my life was once like. They would have been shocked beyond imagination. They would have been shocked to hear the awful words I heard replaying in my head, like an old victrola many, many years ago. “Ms Hershkowitz, the expert arrogantly barked. You have to take twelve units a semester… that is, if you even want to think about going to college!” I rehashed again in my head, for my opening line! Thought after thought my mind grew weary just thinking about it. Thinking exactly how my words would impact my audience.

A thousand battles, in a thousand classrooms, in doctor’s offices, in the work place, in the “helpful headquarters’” of social workers, and Rehabilitation offices, and even in the secular high priest, who took it upon themselves to observe, to organize, and to control and prescribe mandatory orders for every aspect of my life. Who were these self styled, educated experts to believe they could direct my every waking hour. Who were they to tell me what I should or should not be doing with my life? Who where these men and women who though they were God or could even play God with me? Did they think they were specially chosen to ruin my life? Well, if they did, they had another thing coming!

They did not know who they were dealing with, nor, did they know whom they were up against! All because of their cunning, conniving, callus ways of shrewdly thinking they knew exactly how to charm me over, to get me where they wanted me. They thought they know precisely how to misdirect my life, and misrepresent me. They thought they were above me, huh! And, in there quiet, roguish, mulishness manner, they thought they could subtly mislead, and cleverly, dehumanize me and speak down to me in a manor with little dignity or respect. Well, if they did, they did not know what kind of surprises their coffee soaked offices of the California Rehab. Cadres were in for.

The flight attendant came around with drinks, but I was not interested. My mind was somewhere else. So I let my mind drifted back, back, back in time, to that sanctified moment in the mid-70’ies when I stood before an army of enemies, like a warrior, to fight and fend off with words stronger than any weapon anyone could ever hold. I forced all of them to acknowledge me as an individual, with desires and needs that I wanted to achieve. Most importantly, I had to obtain my college education, as I needed to make a place for myself in this world. I, I was the “disabled one” all I heard was… “How can a person with Cerebral Palsy teach dance.” Warmth and energy flowed threw my veins as I recalled hard earned victories: Dancing across the dance floor, under the watchful eye of my loving dance teacher, Al Gilbert. Teaching my students aerobics as an eager reporter snapped my picture and wrote a featured article on me. Or, marching to get the degree that everyone declared I’d never get.

What amazes me the most, is that this “mentally retarded” person, lade the foundation for the millions. My response to a hundred versions of “you can’t do this” is, and always will be to move heaven and earth just to be treated normally, and not to be discriminated. New Jersey was getting close. I was 2 hours from that beautiful city. And all of a sudden, I felt my breath quicken. I felt fluttering in the pit of my stomach, so, I gently looked out the airplane window, towards the blue, puffy, canopy, where I told myself, “you’ll be fine, sweetheart.” “Everything will be okay.” But, what was okay with me; was not okay with the rest of the word. It had been twenty-eight years since I won my law suit, and sometimes it seems as a people, as if we had taken only the first two steps, on a thousand mile journey. That was why I was coming to New Jersey. I was coming to raise up a new generation of leaders who would be inspired, moved, and stimulated to continue the struggles, and to follow in my footsteps. This generation of young men and women, could pick up where I left off. They could gather information to armor themselves on all fronts, to make this land that we live in and love, a gentler, kinder, more understanding world fueled by the memory of what I and so many others had gone through.

We were landing now. I march of the plane proudly, with a new iron determination and devotion to continue to carry on. Waiting for me was my friend. He was another C.P. person with his own battle scares and triumphs to tell. In a moments flash, we were now heading towards the university, where he taught. He wheeled himself into the classroom when he beckoned me to the front of the room. We shared a smile that summed up what we both had helped each other to achieve. We both remembered the price which we both had paid to accomplish and attain. And that was our greatest connection. I straightened out my jacket, glanced at my notes, took a deep breath, and began. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen, my name is Karen Lynn.”

If you are interested in my services, please contact me for lecturing or fitness instruction, at: www.whispersofhope.org, or email me at: karenlynn@whispersofhope.org .

Karen Lynn

19929 Burin Avenue

Torrance, California

90503-2107

310-371-7176

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Scientific Advancements Overshadowing Human Values in Regards to People with Disabilities

Scientific Advancements Overshadowing Human Values in Regards to People with Disabilities

By Karen Lynn

March 2006

Dear Ms. Lasek, fellow friends, and facility. I am honored to be asked here, today, to be one of your guest speakers. Even though I am miles away, physically, I want each and every one of you to feel my presence. I want each and every one of you to feel my sincerity. And, most importantly, I want each and every one of you to feel the importance of these words, and to embody what it is that I am saying – so that my words empower you throughout the course of your life’s work and so things like this never happen again.

Your topic was…are scientific advancements overshadowing human values in regards to people with disabilities. I would have to say yes, most definitely. From the time I was a small child, until now, I have seen much through these green eyes of mine. That was over a half a century ago, now. I was born perfectly normal, and given my first DPT shot. I reacted with a slight fever, and recovered.

Then, at 5 months old, I was taken back to receive my second shot. My mother was very in tune with me, and asked that I be given this cerium in smaller increments, but my doctor would not listen. That was my very first experience to how a man, a doctor, a human being of service, overshadowed my rights. He hurried my mother out of his office, by saying- “If she is not better by morning, give her 2 aspirins.” Off he fled- never to be seen again. By morning, I was in a coma and was going to be deaf, dumb and blind.

I was very lucky, and made almost complete recovery. I was left with brain damage, later to be diagnosed with left side hemiplegic, Cerebral Palsy. Meaning, that my whole left side is and was affected. I can use my left leg, but it is ¾ of a inch shorter then my right, and I cannot rotate my ankle very well or point and flex my toes completely. My left arm is more involved and impaired. My whole body was actually twisted like a pretzel. I have never been able to hold items for longer that a half a minute and I cannot use my fingers or tell my hand what to do. It is like having the circuits of the switch board cut off. Thus, it is only a helping hand.

However, that never, ever held me back- even though I wore a full length leg brace for the first 11 years of my life; I was like any other child. But it was around 8 years of age that my mother realized that I also was not learning like the other children. A little while later, I was diagnosed with having a learning disability.

Did this really have to happen at all? No. If only this so called doctor, would not have obscured what my mother was trying to tell him. Things would or could have been so different. If only he really listened- If only he didn’t brush the matter of because he was too proud to ask for help- could he have talked with a colleague and collaborated? Sure he could have. Instead he sacrificed my life and played God- I ask you, then! If this doctor really cared- would he have listened to what my mother was telling him? Would he have been concerned enough, to treat me with some kind of respect, or human dignity! If indeed he did value these precious life commodities, called human rights, I probably would not be disabled today.

I am very lucky to have been given a mother as I was. She was a very proactive and progressive thinker. She moved mountains to get me to where I am today. She decided my IEP (individual education plan), and when she saw I was not learning- she went to the principal of the handicap school, and talked in my behalf to get a special education teacher to teach me, and the other students who needed the same help. It was also my mother who decided my IHP (individual habilitation plan). If these so called evaluators got there hands on me… my human rights would have been overshadowed in a split second. I observe, and am told time and again, of stories where disabled peoples rights are overshadowed repeatedly.

Even though our society says they have done a lot to raise the bare for the standards of the disabled. I know differently! I know first hand how our values and views are disregarded. Later, in my paper I will give you a first hand account of how I know. We the disabled are turned away at ever corner to get ahead in society, or to pursue our dreams or goals. We are conveniently pushed out of the way or out of site, not to be heard or seen. Most people do not like being around individuals who have a physical limitation. We make them feel uncomfortable and uneasy for what ever reason. We challenge them, threaten them, and present a depth and awareness of which they are afraid of. So, time and again, truth after truth; we the disabled are pleasantly and attractively shoved out of the way. Only to be devalued and de-humanized without little care or matter-

Whenever there are any issues of importance, these matters of discussions are covertly covered up. Even if there is a mediator on our behalf- these agencies cunningly denied these allegations with shrewdness. They slyly and charmingly dis-represent the disabled community.

Thankfully, there were those who could see what I needed and what I could become. Strongest among these, was my dear teacher, Al Gilbert. My mother developed the idea of using dance as therapy. Al Gilbert took on this challenge, and allowed my body to soar. Dance gave me strength, joy, and encouragement. It was through the dance routines, and bare exercises that my twisted body became straight and proud. Dance, opened up the world to new plains for me! It helped me to become the creative person I was meant to be.

My success as a dancer gave me the courage I needed to challenge the system in other areas. At the age of twenty-five, I made a conscious choice to go to college. To learn all the things I never learned in my basic education. These dreams and goals were conscious selections to make me the best person I could become- it was a set target within my being to overcome my learning disability of dyslexia. Yet, this plan and aim was met with all oppositions from the experts- who thought they knew ExACTly what I needed as a disabled person. There again, I was devalued and de-humanized. I was overshadowed by the system. My human rights were put to the test with abrupt, aggression, and antagonistic vengeance.

They thought they knew what they were talking about. But they did not know what they were headed for. Until they were presented and served with papers from lawyers, stating they were in direct violations of my civil rights. Did they not know! This was the first civil rights case under section 504 of the rehabilitation act of 1975. The very people who were suppose to help me, put up every obstacle in my path. To the experts, I was a threat- to the experts I was not a person, let alone a disabled person- to the experts, I was only a symbol. They attempted to mix me up and confuse me, only to be overcome by what I had determined to do. I was gently and cleverly isolated from the real world to become a productive person in society. All because they could not cope with a person such as myself, who was a self motivator and driven individual.

After winning the first civil rights case, in California, I began my college education. Thereafter, entering and winning 2 prize in the Kaleidoscope Literary prose, fiction art award of 1983. I graduated from Santa Monica College with honors, however once again, because of a new counselor, who, by the way was a deaf, mute, “expert”, was labeled mentally retarded, for a third time in my life. All because of an iq test which does not measure anything- and a “specialist”, who could not see my potential. Over the past 23 years of development, my story has now become a published work of art. It is called “The Broken Hoof” and relays how a young C.P. girl finds strength in a carrousel horse.

I hope my friends, that my struggles and achievements show that the human heart of a child of God is stronger then any piece of equipment.

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