Blogcritics

Announcement: Short-content feeds

Phillip Winn — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT

Sunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding.

If I Could Walk Tomorrow - A Reflection On All The Things We Take For Granted In Life

Dominick Evans — Fri, 1 Sep 2006 09:03:08 EDT

How many times have you heard a television personality on a telethon or even your own doctor tell you the unexpected could happen to you? You hear it all the time as non-profit organizations try to raise money. Cancer can strike anyone at any time. Diabetes, stroke, heart disease, Parkinson’s, muscular dystrophy, the list goes on and on. It does not matter who you are, how much money you have, how old you are, or where you are from. Any of these ailments could strike you or a loved one and change your life in an instant.One day you could wake up and have some sort of life limitation. For all intents and purposes, you could wake up tomorrow, get in a car accident, and become a paraplegic or quadriplegic. The truth is we do not know what the future holds because we do not have a crystal ball that we can peer into on a regular basis. We do not have the answers to such mysteries of life, and I doubt we ever will.In a single second, your life, as you know it could change… for better or for worse.However, on the flip side, what would it be like if a person with an ailment or disability woke up tomorrow 100% healthy?In considering how drastically different life becomes and how many simple things able-bodied individuals take for granted, I am going to pretend that I have awakened perfectly capable of every physical feat the average, able-bodied individual has the ability to perform on a daily basis. I’m not pretending to be a body builder, just your average, everyday Joe. As I wake, I sit up in bed unassisted. No longer do I need the Hoyer lift and Ashtyn’s tugging and pushing hands and arms to get my body into that sitting position. I just throw back the covers and I’m up!As I am sitting there, my Shih-Tzu, Oliver, comes up to say good morning. However, this time I can lift him up and actually hold the squirming ball of fur. He doesn’t have to sprawl out next to me just so I can pet him since he’s a bit too bulky for me to lift up usually.Ashtyn is awake and as I spring out of bed, for the first time ever I take her in my arms and give her a traditional, non-adapted hug. She can slide in my arms quite easily without the wheelchair in the way and it feels very nice to hold her so close.By this point, I would do what any person does when they wake up -- go to the bathroom. With nature calling, I can easily walk into my tiny bathroom. Gone are the days of swinging from my Hoyer lift onto the bedside commode, since the bathroom is too small for even a Hoyer or little chair to get into at all. Instead of taking 10-20 minutes of moving, it takes a minute and then I’m up and in the shower.Mind you, this is the first shower I’ve had since I was a young teenager that did not involve shower chairs, Hoyer lifts, or other assistive devices. A 30-minute process is reduced to five to ten minutes and I’m much cleaner because I’m not having to work around a shower chair to scrub soap on my body, nor do I have to work against uncooperative limbs that don’t want to bend or move to get under my arms, behind my knees, etc.After my shower, for the first tine since age 15, I get dressed unassisted. Again, I am amazed by how short the process is. A 15-20 minute process is five minutes tops minus gelling my hair and brushing my teeth. Of course, I may just pop a cap on my head and be off after a quick brush through my short brown hair.After getting dressed, I’d be able to lift my son up in my arms and give him a hug. We could go outside and maybe hit a baseball around. I could pitch the ball to him instead of having to have Ashtyn do it. We’d be able to take Oliver on a walk without worrying about his leash getting tangled in my wheels.Then I’d be able to hop in the car and go to the supermarket or out to eat. I wouldn’t have to worry about special equipment such as a van lift or hand controls. I’d be able to hop in the passenger side (only because I don’t have my license) and get out of the car only to walk into the store or restaurant. If we go to the store, I can push my own cart much easier then bending my arm backwards, clinging to the cart basket, and holding on as I pull it. Navigation of tight aisles is a snap and I can reach the higher shelves without a problem.At the restaurant, I can sit in a booth or at a table. I don’t have to sit in my wheelchair and become a possible blocker of the aisle people walk down to get from table to table. I also don’t have to worry about the table being too low to the ground and my wheelchair too high up so that reaching my plate is a chore. I can actually enjoy a meal as I feed myself without tremors in my hands that cause me to spill all over the place.After we return home, there is so much I can do. I don’t want to take anything for granted, not even being able to sit on the couch for the first time in ten years. I can even sit on the floor if I wanted. Navigating the steps in my house means I can go anywhere in it. I can even get through the narrow hallways my wheelchair was incapable of navigating.Getting a drink in the kitchen is a breeze. I don’t need to ask anyone. I can just go and grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge. I can also reach the shelves if I want to get a glass with some ice. Any time I need to go to the bathroom, I can just go without asking for help. Doing things is a lot easier.I don’t have to be as creative about doing things as I do now. However, my day is not even half over and I’ve already saved an amazing amount of time.Perhaps I’d even jump up and down, just for the heck of it. I’ve never been able to jump. Not even as a child. I remember struggling to try to jump and being unable to do so. For old time’s sake, I’d get that little thrill of the first jump and then it would be over. Such a simple thing… and yet I’d hold the memory of it close just in case it was a one time thing that I might forget otherwise.I’m sure by now you get my point. Life in a wheelchair or with any type of ailment really is an adaptation. Every little thing, from putting on your socks to grabbing a can of pop from the fridge, should be cherished because you never know what tomorrow brings.You, too, could be the next person who can’t open a jar anymore or cannot get through the hallways in your home. You may be unable to eat certain foods you have always eaten because if you do it will affect your blood sugar or your heart.Yet, I see so many people take the simple things in life for granted and I wonder why. I’d give anything to be able to do these things again….Of course, they do say you never really miss something until you no longer have it. With this in mind, my disability challenge for you is simple. Make a list of everything you can do in your everyday life which you do not think a person in a wheelchair or with another disability or ailment would be able to do in the conventional way. For example, listening to music by turning on a stereo is not something a deaf person can do. They can adapt music to flash lights as it is playing and this light therapy, though not the same, has been used in performances by symphonies, choirs, etc.I’m not saying we cannot do these things at all, but the true challenge of any disabled person is finding a way to do simple, everyday things with their disability forever in their mind.Next time you seem to be taking the everyday things for granted, you could look at your list. I hope it will remind you of what your life could be like and how lucky you truly are.

Dominick Evans was born in the great metropolis of Toledo, Ohio. From a young age, he excelled in the arts and trained as a professional singer and actor for over thirteen years. He attended Wright State University and Bowling Green State University from 1999-2003 where he majored in Theatre & Acting and minored in Political Science. Today, he spends his time running a freelance writing, editing, and design company, developing educational materials for children, writing and composing music, and developing screenplays. In his free time, he loves sports, spending time with his girlfriend and son, video games, reading the news, watching movies, and listening to music.

Tackling Accessibility Issues

Dominick Evans — Sun, 20 Aug 2006 04:27:20 EDT

One of the hardest parts of being disabled is not being able to get where you want to go at the drop of a hat. As someone who is disabled, I can tell you how a simple trip across town can turn into an accessibility nightmare.With the 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act, there have been vast improvements towards making public buildings accessible. However, try going between a big city and a small town. You will see a difference.I grew up in a small town outside of Toledo, Ohio. While many of the newest buildings in this town were accessible, not all of them had been modified. For example, I was mainstreamed into the local school district. Our district had three elementary schools that merged into one in the fifth grade. I had to be shipped from the closest elementary school in my town to another elementary school in the district (for kindergarten through fourth grade) because my elementary school had steps. In Junior High, I faced the same problem. I ended up having all my classes in the accessible High School (which was next door to the Junior High) instead. Disability Issues we Face Every DayDepending on the disability, accessibility issues may be different for everyone.While steps are almost always a problem for a person with a physical disability (though it is true some have adapted to climbing with assistive devices) the size of the doorway in buildings and homes is going to matter more to a person in a wheelchair then to a person who can walk with braces and crutches.In an ideal world, every building and residential property would have:No stepsWider DoorwaysAutomatic Door OpenersLower Counter topsLower ShelvesElevators where necessaryRamps with less than 15-degree anglesEasy to reach appliancesHoyer lifts where necessaryLarge Bathrooms with Roll-in ShowersGrab BarsUnfortunately, this dream is not yet a reality.Able-Bodied World ViewThe world has an able-bodied view. It is made for able-bodied individuals so finding an accessible home is a task for the disabled. Going shopping is a task. Getting in public buildings, though they are supposed to be accessible, can be a task.When I went to Bowling Green State University, I complained to the city of Bowling Green about their lack of sidewalks. I got the media involved in my ongoing dispute with the BGSU accessibility office. I had issues with the university spending hundreds of thousands of dollars to put an elevator into Falcon Stadium for alumni when their campus needed a serious accessibility makeover.At the time of my enrollment in the university, these were the main problems I found:Many buildings lacked automatic doors, so I had to shimmy them open from my chair.The ramp at the library was so steep and twisted, I was nervous every time I went down it.The dorms were hard to get into. I had to have help getting my key card into the high slot to get into my room.Getting food could be a task because some of the counters were high.The stages (I studied acting at BGSU) all had steps to access them, minus a small acting space upstairs in one building.Some elevator buttons were so high they were level with the hand of my 6 foot tall brother.The sidewalks on campus were bumpy and some of them had huge cracks I had to avoid. The town of Bowling Green did not have many sidewalks.Many old buildings were hard to navigate and had elevators that broke down constantly. Do not ask me how many times I was stuck upstairs after class, downstairs so I could not get to class, or in the elevators themselves.I have not been back to the BGSU campus since 2000 when I vowed to find a college that was more accessible. After a year, the fighting became too much to handle while balancing classes and personal issues in my life.When I attended BGSU, I would often drive down the side of the busy Bowling Green roads into town in my wheelchair. Some of the buildings were accessible, but most of them were old. An excellent example of the lack of accessibility is as follows. All my friends went to one particular club that was up a narrow flight of stairs. I had always wanted to go, but the owner was very rude about the fact that his club was not accessible. It would have cost money he did not have -- even though the ADA clearly states any building or business offering a service to the public must be made accessible.I dropped these issues eventually because some battles are just too big for one person to fight. I had other things to focus on. I had caused enough of a ruckus and people were not very happy with me as it was. Had it not been for personal issues I doubt I would have given up so easily. In truth, the battle should have continued until every building was made accessible and that is one battle I regret letting go unfinished.The Quest for AccessibilityI ended up at Wright State University in Dayton, Ohio. It is amazing what a difference a three-hour drive can make.The pluses of WSU were:Every building I went to, including the dorms, had automatic doors. Additionally, automatic doors were installed on the personal entries to disabled dorms as well as the disabled individual’s own room/apartment.The campus, though hilly, was a smooth ride for a wheelchair.Disabled dorms had roll-in showers.Disabled parking spaces were in front of every building.The buildings on campus (minus dorms) were accessible by underground tunnels so winter snow could be avoidedThe sidewalks around campus led to a nearby Meijer (think of a Wal-Mart style store), numerous food places including McDonalds, Wendy’s, and Big Boy, and a Credit Union.There is a personal assistance program for those who live on campusEvery building had elevators. An elevator breakdown was often handled quickly.The campus dining services employees were more than willing to assist you in getting things to eat and drink if you needed it.Note taking, test taking, and tutoring services were available. Any accommodations necessary for classes were made through the office of disabilities.Many disabled people went to WSU so you had friends you could talk to who understood your struggles.An overall “disabled-friendly” attitude was present on campus.Disabled sports at both the competitive and fun level were available.Bathroom assistance was available on campus during the day in case you needed to run to the bathroom between classes. Hoyer lifts were present in the bathrooms.The on-campus swimming pool was accessible.The on-campus workout center had more than one piece of accessible gym equipment.The campus shuttle was accessible.The bus to downtown Dayton had a lift, making the city of Dayton extremely accessible to on-campus students.Why can’t all schools be this way? As always, there was room for improvement, but compared to BGSU, WSU was a breath of fresh air. It was truly the first time I felt accepted. Only one other city I have been to, to date, has had such a welcoming vibe in terms of accessibility, and that is Manhattan.Achieving AccessibilityWhen I went into a wheelchair at 16, and even before then, I was seldom invited over to my peers’ houses. In fact, one of the only places I remember going is to my friend’s house who was also in a wheelchair. It was a good thing his house had a ramp!A lack of accessibility is something able-bodied people take for granted and you should not do this. You never know if you will be the next person in a wheelchair. Once it happens, it turns your life upside down and suddenly you become the next activist towards making the world accessible.The time to act and get the ball rolling towards making the world more accessible is now. The key to this is becoming conscious of your surroundings and familiarizing yourself with the need for change.I challenge all of the able-bodied individuals who read this, to the accessibility test. For a week, I want you to write down everything in your home, town, and workplace that you think could be improved. If you notice public buildings with no ramps or elevators, write it down. If your bathroom is so narrow you can barely get into it standing up, write it down. Write down anything you can think of that seems to need improvement.At the end of the week, examine your list. I bet you will be surprised at how non-accessible the world really is. If you feel compelled to change the way the world develops businesses and real estate properties, send an email to your mayor, governor, city council members, and any other government officials. Let them know what buildings are still not accessible in your town. Make sure you stress how unacceptable this is. Email real estate developers and tell them you support the development of disabled-friendly homes. Let them know that it is their duty as builders of housing for the public to make their homes accessible to everyone.Together we can make the world more disabled-friendly. Together we can ensure that any person in a wheelchair has the access they need to doctors offices, dentist offices, hospitals, homes, and supermarkets. Without the support of the able-bodied population, we are fighting a losing battle. So, please take the time to support our cause just in case a loved one of yours is in our shoes and it is too late to make it easier in their and your lives.

Part One: Ending Misguided Discrimination

Dominick Evans — Thu, 10 Aug 2006 05:31:22 EDT

Who am I? I could start this off by saying I am just a normal guy from a normal town. However, most of the people who know me would have to disagree with this assessment. If I could guess, they would say that I am a unique individual in an interesting life situation. I have had amazing life experiences people could only dream of having, and yet I enjoy the everyday things about my life the most.Why should you care about my life or my situation? Frankly, it does not matter to me what anyone thinks of who I am, and what I do with my life. However, I feel it is important for you, the reader, to understand who I am in order to understand others in similar life situations.You see, I was born with a degenerative muscle disease known as Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA) type III. To most, I simply say I have a form of Muscular Dystrophy, but MD is not the technical diagnosis for my disability. Muscular Dystrophy is an umbrella term for 40+ neuromuscular diseases, one of which is SMA. To further confuse things, there are specific diseases within the group classified as the Muscular Dystrophies. One is the incredibly common yet often lethal Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, which is usually present in males and not females. SMA is not one of the Muscular Dystrophies, but it is a form of Muscular Dystrophy. Explaining anything further will get into the discussion of muscles, nerve endings, and anterior horn cells. Often it is much easier to just say I have Muscular Dystrophy and leave it at that.I was diagnosed with SMA type III at age four. My grandmother noticed I was walking like a mechanical or wind-up doll at age two. Thus began two long years of tests. I was enrolled in swimming for physical therapy and after my diagnosis I was placed in dance classes in the hopes that anything physical would keep my weak muscles from getting any weaker.I was able to do everything early. I walked early, talked early, crawled early, and sat up early. There were no initial signs that anything was wrong with me. Had the doctors not discovered I had been born without a left hip socket when I was 2 ½ they probably would not have been led to the diagnosis for SMA when I was as young as I was.Getting the diagnosis was like getting a death sentence for my family. I sort of knew what was going on and it was an incredibly emotional experience. Yet, I was okay. I could walk with a slight limp. I could skip. I could play on the playground at school. I was just a little bit slower, and it took me longer to do things like get up from the floor after circle time.I remember the first few years I was in school being an incredibly angry time for me. The school tested me and though I was exceptionally bright mentally, they did not want to believe it was true. The tests had to be lying because back in the 1980s if you had a muscle disease you probably were mentally slow, as well.From the moment I entered the public education system, I had to fight for my rights. The teachers either went out of their way to make the classroom productive despite my special physical needs or tried to deny I had any special needs at all. The latter would punish me for being slow when walking down the hall and having to get out of class for physical therapy once a week.The kids noticed my limp and it was common to hear the chants of, duck, duck, duck, as I walked down the hall. That is what they called me because my limp resembled a duck’s waddle. I would try to ignore it or say something witty to deflect from the situation, but in truth, I remember feeling very sad. I kept asking, “Why can’t I be normal?”At ten, I started taking voice lessons. By this point, I was in advanced classes and had tested into the gifted group at school. It was very satisfying to do so because I had been told I was not intelligent and possibly mentally retarded by more than one school employee. I think this made me work even harder to prove how smart I was.From 10 until 15, I spent my days partly at school and partly touring my state as a representative for a major disability organization. My afternoons and evenings were spent taking acting and singing lessons and classes. I had a natural charm that won people over. I think this is why I represented both my local area and the entire state of Ohio as their ambassador for the disability organization. I was quite profitable to them.I must admit I loved the attention though. I was a natural performer. I was on the radio both speaking and singing hundreds of times. I sang and spoke on television, did photo shoots, had a chance to model for a local company, and did television spot ads. It was the dream of a lifetime, and something that helped me grow and become comfortable in front of a camera.Ten days before my 16th birthday I was wheeled into the operating room to begin the first of 16 hours worth of surgery. I had spinal fusion surgery done to prevent my organs from crushing one another. Had I not had the surgery I only had about 10 years left to live. The surgery was harsh. I faced many complications and almost died. When I came out of all of it, I could no longer stand up on my own or walk.My recovery did not stop me from wishing to attain my goals as a performer. Despite my vocal cord getting nicked by the tube down my throat during my hospital stay, I managed to re-train my damaged voice again and by the time I entered college, I sounded better then ever could be expected.College meant that I would perform in a few different theatrical shows, train with an amazing voice teacher, and star in an independent film. I also made a lot of friends. These were the first group of people who looked at me for my abilities, not the chair I sat in every day. This was around the time I started dating my long-time girlfriend, Ashtyn. She opened my eyes to a whole new world of love and hope, because she really did not care about my bum muscles. She helped to restore all the self-confidence I had lost during my high school years. Today, we have been together five years; have one child, and a happy, well-adjusted home.So, why am I telling you about my life? I really want to stress how normal my life is to you. I want you to see I have accomplished things despite being in a wheelchair. I want you to understand that I have tried not to let the chair dictate my life. In fact, the chair is perhaps one of the secondary aspects of who I am. I am not ashamed to be in a wheelchair and must admit I have a bit of a hot racing hand.Why am I telling you this? My purpose in telling you about myself is to let you see that many of us who suffer from debilitating physical conditions are just like you in the everyday sort of ways. I fell in love, as many of you have in the past. In my free time, I love to watch television, movies, play video games, play and watch sports, and spend time with my family. Those are things I have heard plenty of able-bodied individuals say they do in their free time, as well.One of the biggest causes of discrimination towards the disabled is ignorance. People are ignorant about the ways of the disabled. We are not all the same and cannot be lumped into one category. That does not mean we should be treated as though we are sub-human, because in essence we are normal in all the ways that count. For instance, my best friend from high school had Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. He also had an unrelated learning disability and was in special education classes. I, on the other hand, have always been in honor classes. However, outside of school, we were two kids who raced around town causing havoc and getting into trouble like any other set of kids might do.The one thing the disabled share in common is the desire to be understood. Do not look at the wheelchair as a significant part of our personality. It is not. It is merely a necessary extension of our physical being. Consider, if you will, the wheelchair as our legs in a different shape than your legs.However, you cannot deny or ignore the disability completely. I think those who try to ignore it the most actually are the most misguided. You can acknowledge the chair. Hell, ask questions if you like, but do not make it the primary focus of every discussion. It is natural for people to be curious. So, I have a major problem when a child comes up to ask a question or points out my wheelchair and their parent stifles their questioning, while shooting an embarrassed look in my direction. It is good they are curious. Intelligence breeds tolerance, and when a parent stifles their child they are making them ignorant or fearful of people in wheelchairs.Steps towards Tolerance: I have decided to come up with a list of steps you can implement when meeting and socializing with people that are disabled or impaired. I truly believe your best tool for not acting like a wheelchair discriminator is knowledge. Hopefully, these steps will give you all the tools you need to help spread the tolerance those of us in wheelchairs so desperately seek.Step #1 - It is okay to ask questions as long as it is done so respectfully. Do not act as if it is such a big deal because we will laugh at you. There is nothing funnier than someone who wants to ask, but cannot stand up for themselves enough to get up the courage to do so. There really are stupid questions though, and most disabled people do not appreciate them.For instance, I have been asked if my “thingy works”. Yes, we are talking about my private region. Of course, after I ran the person over in my wheelchair (I am kidding!), I asked if their thingy worked, as well. A better way to ask would be, 'What are your limitations?' Can you have a normal, healthy sex life?Of course, I am not sure why most people care about this, but it seems to be a major question I get asked. Answers are going to vary based on why the person is in a wheelchair. A person with a spinal injury may not be able to feel beneath their waist so their answer is going to differ from someone such as myself who has complete sensation everywhere.Other stupid questions I have been asked in the past are: So crippled, what happened? (My reply: I could ask the same of you.)I am touching your leg. Can you feel it? (My reply: Do I know you?)You cannot stand up or walk, can you? (My reply: No, I am just riding around in the wheelchair for shits and giggles.)I am sure you understand my point. Ask questions, but think before you ask them. Imagine how you would feel if you were in the shoes of the disabled person. Would you be offended if you were asked those questions? If you would be offended, then do not ask them!Step #2 – Try to see past the disability. Ultimately, people with disabilities can make excellent friends. Ask about their interests. What do they like to do in their free time? If you would ask these things of your able-bodied friends then do not hesitate to ask the same of your disabled friends. Their answers might surprise you.Try to include them when you go out with your other friends. I know transportation can sometimes be an issue, but just being asked to hang out is one of the best feelings. A lot of people assume you do not get out much. Truth be told, in college, I was quite the party animal. I was lucky to get in from the clubs at 4 am with my friends!Step #3 – Educate others around you. If you hear someone being discriminatory, point it out. Do not be afraid to tell them how they sound. In truth, many people do not realize they are being discriminatory until it is pointed out to them. The more we spread the knowledge of discrimination and intolerance the better chance the entire disabled community has of being understood and accepted.Step #4 – Do not be shy! Feel free to say hello. Do not be afraid to ask if we need help if you see us struggling up a hill or in a supermarket. Some of us are incredibly independent and as a result, we will politely decline. However, some of us do need help and appreciate the offer more than you realize. By the same token, do not just come up and help without asking. The independent disabled individuals will be offended. It is best to ask first. You would not walk up to a stranger who could walk and start helping them without asking. You are liable to get maced! You would ask first, so please use the same courtesy when asking us if we need help.Note: Unfortunately, in every community we do have some bad seeds. In general, most disabled people appreciate the offer of help whether needed or not. On occasion, someone may give you the look of death and act as though you have asked to cut off a limb of theirs. This is not most of us, so please do not think we all act this way!In truth, we do not want your pity, your prayers, your good wishes, or your blessings unless we ask for them. We just want your friendship. So, next time you see a person in a wheelchair why not say hi, ask their interests, and get to know them. Chances are, you will not be disappointed and will make a new friend in the process.