Notes, Notings, and Common Refrains

In my last post on this subject, I stated my discomfort with the current cultural discussions of "Bullying, and What to Do About It," because, in my experience, it's the adults who form the largest segment of the bullying population, and that children, on the whole, are more tolerant, and no one seems to be talking about that part of the equation. This entry started out as what I thought would be one brief sentence in a reply to a reply to that post... and then it kept getting bigger, and I realized it should be its own thing:

... I know: I've seen the reports, and the candid filming of behavior on playgrounds and in lunch rooms, so I know that childhood bullying exists. But it's still my deep is my deep gut feeling that adults are far worse sinners as far as bullying goes. I don't think I will ever shake it completely. And I think this is a direct result of growing up, from birth, with Disability Disprivilege.

You see, what I've seen, from the time of my earliest memories, is that a very great (if not a vast majority) number of people who work in the "Disability Services" sector -- from young adults taking summer jobs at "special" camps, to Special Ed teachers, physical therapists, and social workers, all the way up to administrators of disability services at city and county levels -- are drawn to the field because they are bullies.

First off, they know that the job title on their business card is enough to earn them adulation from their community (for making such a noble and charitable sacrifice on behalf of those poor unfortunates). So they get near global reinforcement that their view of the world is the one true view (and this is precisely what bullies have been trying to prove to the rest of the world since they uttered their first insult in preschool).

And second, and perhaps more important, it puts them in position of control over other people's lives, and gives them an air of expertise, and the power to make up the rules of the game. So, for example, when they tell parents of a disabled child: "Johnny will never be able to read at grade level, anyway, so we'll just pull him out of class during English, so we can at least train him to walk normally as possible," most parents just take their word for it (and any quick survey of "rehabilitation and treatment" literature will reveal that the appearance of normalcy is the number one measure of "quality of life").

If Johnny, himself, tries to complain or protest, he gets stuck with the label "Resistant to Treatment," and "Disobedient," and gets punished and put in isolation.

And because of how the Rehabilitation Complex is organized, my parents, who were incredibly supportive of me, and did everything they could to reinforce my sense of self-worth, were outnumbered by these "Experts and Professionals" by about four to one.

........

Meanwhile, in grade school, I couldn't run and play hopscotch or jump rope with the rest of my class. And so I spent recess on the sidelines, sitting in the shade of the big oak tree.

And before you start listening for the sentimental strains of the violin, underscoring the "loneliness and isolation of the crippled child's life," consider this:

The children who were bullies -- who were afraid of and disgusted by any whiff of difference -- knew that no amount of insults or punches could shame me out of my wheelchair, so they stayed the hell away, rather than catch my cooties. And the kids who were interested in who I was as a person, who liked wordplay and imagination games (and perhaps, sensed that I came armed with my own Bully-repellent force field) came over to play with me of their own accord. And together, we made up our own games, where everyone was an equal participant.

So, in my life, my interactions with the Adult Population were always skewed toward the bullies-and-thugs end of the spectrum, and those with the Child Population were always skewed toward the Incredibly Nice and Ridiculously Creative end of the spectrum.

So -- yeah. In the ongoing "What to do About Bullies" discussions, my instinct is going to be to side with the kids, as "my tribe."

From the very first season of Sesame Street, sung by Big Bird (Music by Joe Raposo; Lyrics by Raposo and Jon Stone):

ABC-DEF-GHI

Synopsis: Big Bird mistakes the Alphabet for a single long word, and he pronounces it like so:

"Ab-Ca-Def-Ghee*-Jeckle-Mih-Nop-Kwer-Stoov-Wix-iz"

Visual creepiness and/or disturbed nostalgia warning: they hadn't yet settled on Big Bird's proper look yet, and his head is disturbingly small in proportion to his beak and the rest of his body; you can almost see Carrol Spinney's hand and wrist inside the body suit.

Still a great song though... And the scary thing? I'm pretty sure I remember seeing this early version, back when it aired for the very first time; I would have been well past my sixth birthday (but not yet "six-and-a-half").

( Lyrics from www.lyricsmode.com & my augmentations: )

*That is: "Hard-G; long-E"

This is something that's been fermenting in my brain, lately, that I have not gotten around to posting (I don't think? If I have, please excuse the repeat):

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An adherent to the Medical Model believes that "eliminating disability" means curing or treating all the symptoms.

Whereas an adherent to the Social Model (specifically Yours Truly) believes that "eliminating disability" means:

"Allowing all people the freedom to do everything they can do, without shaming them for what they can not do.

Now, that light bulb clicked on a few weeks ago. This morning a second light bulb clicked on regarding the definition of "Shaming":

The noun "Shame" is the emotional pain you feel when you believe (either correctly or incorrectly) that something you've done, or something you are, is Wrong.

The (transitive) verb "To Shame" is what other people do when you don't feel pain about what you've done, or who you are, but they feel you should, so they do everything in their power to convince you to change your mind. And it takes a lot of practice and a good circle of kith and kin (mostly kith) to withstand all that.

I, for example (as my kith know), feel no shame about my disability. But even so, I cannot deny that this visit to our local fine art museum was a fine example of "shaming, the (transitive) verb":

( A visit to the Chrysler Museum [yes, the same people as the car company], January 23, 2008 [originally posted to my LJ the next day] )

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And no, for the record, I have not gone back since.

It's that social shaming that makes "The Disabled" a distinct (i.e. second -- or third) Class within the society, and what makes Disability an Issue to Deal with instead of just a Difference to Live with.

And eliminating that class distinction within human cultures is what the Social Model of Disability Means to Me...

The Steadfast Tin Soldier (The disabled would be happiest 'with their own kind')

With an Addendum: in that post, I mention I wheelchair using guy that often came 'round my college (his mother worked in Admissions, iirc), and that rumor had it he had recently been an actor with Tom Cruise in Born on the Fourth of July, which had just come out.

At the time, he was studying for his fourth attempt at the Bar, to become a lawyer.

... After I wrote my post, I decided to look him up on IMdB.com, to see if I could recognize his name, and if he had, in fact, been in the movie. Sure enough, "Paraplegic #1 (Miami bar)" was listed has having graduated from a Newburgh, New York high school... And this guy was a Newburgh native. So there, I was reminded that his name was Kevin (McGuire).

And from there, I Googled him.]

Turns out, he's got his law degree now, and is CEO of his own company, as a consultant for corporations on ADA law.

Good on ya, Kevin!

(I still doubt we would have been a "good couple," even if we do both use wheelchairs).

His Website: McGuire Associates

When I was a Teen, and in my early 20s (~1980s), and Mother and I would attend politically / protest-oriented events, a common phrase we'd see printed on tee-shirts was "Shameless Agitator."

And I got to wondering: is there a specific historical context for this phrase? Was it a common epithet thrown around in newspapers to refer to Suffragettes, for example? Or labor leaders? Can it be traced back to a particular quote?

Bit of random, personal trivia: Once, one of us (either it was I, or my mother, who then shared with me), misread one of those shirts as "Shameless Alligator," which then became a running joke between us until the end of her life. That memory recently came back to me, and that's what's gotten me curious about this...

So -- last night, just before midnight, I found YouTube's movie channel... And managed to find one old Danny Kaye movie (The Inspector General); it was 101 minutes, plus about 5 minutes of pausing for commercials (still better than watching on TV).

And when it was over, did I toddle off to bed? No, of course not. That would have been sensible. No, I decided that the Danny Kaye movie I really wanted to watch again was The Court Jester (1956). So I went hunting through regular YouTube for fan-uploaded clips.

By the time I was pulling the covers up over my head, the dawn was breaking. By the time I woke up again, mid-morning, I realized something: I miss the classic movies not just because they're still harking back to the theatrical traditions, with the way they're framed, and sung and danced, but because, visually, they're beautiful to look at. The colors on the old film was more muted, natural, and rich. The colors (and focus) of modern movies --even when I like the scripts, and characters, and it's a romcom or a drama (never mind all the ones that try to be in-your-face) I find painful, in comparison.

To show you what I mean, here's a brief clip from The Inspector General -- 1949 (The love song scene). Granted, this is set in a Eastern-European town run by a league of corrupt officials, so it's meant to be drab. Still, it's almost black and white compared to what they put in theaters today:



And here's a longer scene (with set-up leading to the song -- how to get the infant true heir to the throne away from the clutches of the evil usurper king) from The Court Jester -- 1956. This is a much brighter movie (with higher tech film, no doubt), but these scenes still strike me almost like a oil painting, in terms of color and tone -- much deeper and golden-hazy. You know?

Anyway, enjoy!

• ( Childhood nostalgia: The Television Division )
  
  
  
• ( More thoughts on 'experimental film' )
  
  
  
• ( Tomorrow is valentine's day. )

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Video examples:
¹iconic clips from Captain Kangaroo and Wonderama

²an 'experimental film' I happen to like: A state of play -- "Abstract" Irish step dancing in a few back alleys of London.

³A really clever and intriguing Valentine's day card (2009)

(Actually, I was thinking these thoughts concurrently, but couldn't muster the energy to post them at the time)


Last night, I overheard the fireworks display put on by my city, and watched "A Capital Fourth" (PBS) and "The Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular" (CBS) on TV. The former were loud, and the latter were pretty. And while I'm proud of my country's good points, I'm also embarrassed by our greed and arrogance.

And while I was watching my TV, with frequent shots of soldiers-in-uniform sitting in the front rows of the audience, in places of honor, as MCs and musical stars heaped praise and thanks upon them.

Yes. Not to take anything away from that... but I couldn't help but think:

When I graduated from high school in 1983, my class invited our history teacher to give the faculty address.

I don't remember his exact words, but I remember his main point.

He said that America was exceptional, not because of its inherent greatness and superiority over other nations, but because it was the first in history where people got together and deliberate invented a new form of government. And he urged us, as new graduates, to go forth and continue that tradition, and invent the future for ourselves and our compatriots.

You know -- it would be nice if we could give equal public thanks to our teachers, and philosophers, too. Every nation, even the most brutal dictatorships (especially the dictatorships) can define their national greatness by the strength and bravery of its soldiers.

But in a democracy like ours, they're not the only ones "defending our freedoms."

Warning: this post will have many video embeds, because I can't really explain what I've seen without showing what I've seen (plus, I'm planning on doing another post, later, that will take a lot of thinkifying and writing, and I'm budgeting my energy and time, or we'll just get a repeat of yestderday).

This is what I first saw, when I tuned in to my local "PBS" Station (the name "PBS" hadn't even been dreamt up, yet) on November 10, 1969, at 3:30pm (I was 5, going on 6).



In 1969, Kindergarten was considered "preschool," seperate from "Elementary School" -- it was an "extra" -- nice if you could get it, but poor kids from the inner city (ie Black) kids were not getting it. ...And they were suffering later, because of it. But 97% of all households had a television. So Joan Ganz Cooney got the idea* to bring the Kindergarten to the kids. The show's primary audience were 5 and 6 year-olds (The secondary audience was the parents and older folks, hearing the TV in the background).

In 1999, for the first time since the show was created, the producers went back and analysed who was actually watching the show. And they discovered that it wasn't 3, 4, or 5 year-olds, anymore -- it was 1 and 2 year-olds.

One of the things that surprised the focus group leaders (I remember reading this on Sesame Street's "For parents" webpage at the time) was that even the very young toddlers had long attention spans if you gave them a coherent storyline to follow (something that supports my theory that humans are hardwired to be storytellers and story-listeners). So Elmo got his own, longer, segment.** And even though two-year olds are not stupid, they don't have half the real-world experience of five-year olds, so a lot of the snappy humor and satire was flying right over their heads, so that got toned down, too.

So that leads us to the Sesame Street I saw last night:


The entire show is "long narration format," the entire hour is filled with four or five long segments, each with a different set of characters and on a different set, and in a different style; it's like a regular "primetime line-up" condensed into a single hour; each segment is a stand-alone show you can look forward to. The short, minute-long, clips are gone... and yes, I will miss them. But the show isn't being made for me, now. It's being made for my grandchildren (metaphorically speaking).

One of the new characters is Abby Cadabby -- a fairy godchild who's an emigree to Sesame Street from the land of fairies. This allows the writers and producers to introduce the ideas of cross-culturalism without exoticizing any actual human beings (some of whom may be watching, and not apreciate being "othered"). And I think I may really grow fond of Abby's new "show," which was introduced last night:



Oh, and for the 35th season, the producers introduced Traction Jackson, to educate people that Wheelchairs are Still Not a Tragedy:



Last night, TJ Led the Dancing for the number of the Day. Maybe the writers for Glee should watch...

And, for the sake of nostalgia, have another segment from the first season, that I remember, but maybe it was before you were even born:



"Cookie Monster" wasn't always "Cookie," you know... (in his pre-Sesame career, he was a spokesmonster for Frito-Lay, and ate computers in IMB corporate educational films ... he also starred in a few of my nightmares, as a kid)

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*This is a gross over-symplification.

**The reason Elmo became so commerical -- being marketed every Christmas -- was because the federal government pulled out its public funding in 1981, and even kids' shows take money to make. You can stop blaming the Big Corporations, Internets.

I didn't know that The New York Times had done a report on our protests, though.

Campus Life: SUNY Stony Brook; Sign Language: Foreign or Merely an Easy A?

(quote) In response to the memo, more than 30 students held a protest earlier this month in front of the administration building and gathered more than 1,000 student signatures urging the university to continue accepting American Sign Language for the foreign language requirement. (unquote)

I remember those protests. We tried to show up at the place where the board meeting was being held, so we could present the petition, only to find out that they had moved the location at the last minute. I remember Dane Spiro (mentioned in the article) leading us on a stealth mission through the library, to try and find which meeting room where they were holed up. That image of him signing "QUIET!" is my mnemonic for that sign.

(quote) Lawrence Forestal, a sign language instructor [he was my teacher! :D], said Mr. Kerth's information on the number of students who received A's was "exaggerated."

Mr. Forestal, who is [D]eaf, urged the the University Senate's Curriculum Committee, which determines student requirements, to allow sign language students and deaf people to address the committee before a decision was made. "How can the committee set such policies without real knowledge of sign language?" he asked. (unquote)

Anyway, I found this article kinda-sorta by accident, in the wee hours, this morning. I'd tried to do a Google search, a couple of weeks ago, to see if I could get a clue to remember my Sign teacher's last name (I only remembered the name sign he used for "Larry" in class), and failed to find a mention of him, then.

What I did find was a long and interesting article on the ways in which Signed Languages do, in fact, meet all the standards for being complete languages in their own right (and in that article, it mentioned how SUNY Stony Brook was one of the first universities to offer ASL as a foreign language). And when I went Googling in the wee hours, this morning, it was for that article I wanted to go back and reread, this time.

I have Google-fu. It just seems to be turned inside-out. :-/

[Edited to add:
I don't know how many As were actually awarded -- I never polled my fellow students. But I worked hard for my A, and I had a leg up on everyone else, because I'd already had some familiarity with the language.

I think it is true, though, that many of the kids in ASL 101 had signed up expecting it to be an easy A... There were many expressions of surprise throughout that course.]