Disabled—Who, Me?

"People with disabilities can’t be just people — a boundary between “us” and “them”
must be established, if only to avoid the difficult truth that disability in some form will
almost certainly touch their lives in the future."

It's Paralympics time again, which always makes me hyper-aware of how disabled people are perceived in our society, myself included. I am disappointed (and a little angry) that I can't watch them because I don't have cable and the majority of the Games are only being shown on NBCSports. (During the "normal" Olympics, I spent the better part of my evenings glued to the TV.) Last week, I came across an article in the New York Times titled My Paralympic Blues, detailing an experience the author had as a disabled athlete.

I had one of my own experiences this week.

After yoga the older man next to me comes over and says "I admire you." He said nothing more, but I knew exactly what he meant. "Thank you," I said with a half smile. "I've been doing yoga for so long I've figured out all the adaptations I need to make." A nervous smile followed as he walked away.

I'm used to fielding these types of comments and sometimes questions. The questions, though often difficult for myself and others to bring up, tend to be more effective. In the best case scenario it leads to a discussion which gives me the opportunity to be wholeheartedly honest about the issue while at the same time crushing many of the misconceptions.

I was born with my right side partially paralyzed as the result of a stroke when my mom was five months pregnant with me. I can move my arm and leg, though I have little fine motor skills.

I've been practicing yoga since I was 17 when it was offered at the pre-college program I attended between my junior and senior year of high school. Yoga was a natural addition to the active lifestyle I already led. I learned to ski when I was five. I play tennis; when I started on the JV team, one of my coaches taught me how to serve the ball one-handed. I worked with a physical therapist so I could learn to kayak and figure out how to hold the paddle because I wanted to go on a school trip to Lake Powell. Note: if you strap your hand to the paddle with an ace bandage, be aware of the possibility of the kayak flipping and not being able to let go of said paddle, though this never happened to me. I bought a recumbent tricycle because I don't have the balance to ride a bike.

My story is not inspirational or particularly admirable. It is difficult to tell only because our flawed world has made it so. I like to be challenged, physically and intellectually. It is why people tell me I have guts and determination. And as is the case with everyone, some days are easier than others.

"I’m an ordinary athlete living an ordinary life. I just happen to be doing it in a body many
people might misunderstand, a body that is a source of pride and of shame, and sometimes,
like all of our bodies on a good day, extraordinary."

"Nike Launches Flyease, Changing The Game For People With Disabilities"

To some of you, it may seem strange that the launch of a new line of shoes would be the inspiration for a blog post, and one about disability no less. But Nike has released a no-tie shoe, and for me as well as millions of others, this is a particularly notable achievement. I was born with right-sided hemiparesis as the result of an in utero stroke. Basically what that means is my right side is partially paralyzed. I can move my arm, but I can't really hold on to anything with my hand. My disability presented many challenges while I was growing up, one of which was finding shoes that would fit my ankle foot orthotics (known as AFOs, a hard plastic brace that fits inside the shoe) and learning how to tie those shoes. Throughout my childhood I either wore shoes with velcro or had someone else tie them for me, which was annoying when they came untied given my (still) sometimes stubborn unwillingness to ask for help. I was in 5th grade when I finally figured out how to do it myself, and though I've been tying my own shoes with two "hands" for the past 17 years, I still get frustrated sometimes. Different shoes have different laces; some are slippery, making it hard to wrap and secure the lace around my right forefinger, which serves as the "anchor." On the contrary, some are stiff, creating the same problem. The process takes longer, so if I'm in a hurry or I think someone is waiting on me, I'll tuck the laces underneath my feet and tie them later. With my hiking boots, where the support is critical, I can almost never get them tight enough so I have to enlist the help of someone stronger than me, especially if I'm going to be carrying a 20lb pack on my back (though this could also be used as a good excuse for a piggy-back ride due to the resulting blisters if my feet slide in my shoes).

I don't wear AFOs anymore and I know how to tie my shoes now, but I would buy these in a heartbeat if they were available for me. For now there's only a men's basketball high-top, though I think a running shoe is in development and hopefully one for women too.

From the Huffington Post:
"Nike Launches Flyease, Changing The Game For People With Disabilities"

Note: If you are learning about my disability this way for the first time, please don't hesitate to ask me more about it. I'm a big fan of letting people ask their own questions, but I've found that when someone doesn't know what to say, they don't say anything at all. A few years ago I read a blog post in which the author put it this way: "... I, and you, and everyone who lives in the United States (at least; I can’t comment on other countries), have been brought up to understand that disabilities and the people who live with them are strange, uncomfortable things and are not to be spoken of in public. How could I expect [someone] to react any differently when no one is ever taught how to act around or speak with those of us with disabilities? It is not a fault of one person, it is a fault of society." Figuring out how to talk about my disability is something that has bothered me for a long time, though I couldn't identify the problem or understand how to deal with the issue until recently. The answer is simple: communication and learning, but it's a two-way street.

Caravan of the Sky

I am continually on the hunt for a camper van like the one my parents had ('78 VW, avacado green) so that some day I can venture out on a similar road trip to the one they took in the early '80s, a three month long round trip excursion from Albuquerque to Alaska. In the meantime, this might do just fine.

http://www.fastcodesign.com/3022316/the-camper-that-becomes-a-penthouse

Dancing with Light II

I've been daydreaming about an LED hula hoop for months now. This is the one I decided I'm saving up for.

Dancing with Light

Quixotic Fusion is an ensemble of artists from various disciplines including aerial acrobatics, dance, fashion, film, music and visual FX. This inventive group of artists goes beyond the limits of any specific art form, challenging traditional perceptions and creating a total sensory experience unlike any other for its audience while exploring infinite possibilities of movement, sound and multimedia.

How Bikes Make Cities Cool

The Sound of Happiness

Occupy Love

"Love is the felt experience of connection to another being."

Occupy Love

Frost Hill Organic Farm

I am incredibly on board with the whole idea of sustainable living, and in order to to make the idea and thought become real, you need to make an active commitment, so I was thrilled when this little CSA farm popped up right down the road from my house. Every week we get a box of fresh veggies, some recognizable, others I've heard of but don't make a consistent effort to purchase at the store. It is extremely rewarding to know that something like the lettuce and tomato in my salad was grown less than five miles away. 

For the Love of Food

I have an almost obsessive infatuation with food. Not the overindulgent, stuff-your-face kind of obsession, but rather one that engages me in the process of creating wholesome, nutritious meals with the best possible ingredients. Food that takes time to prepare usually tastes better. I've had a big aversion to fast food for a long time. The last time I ate anything close to it was a year ago, and I had absolutely no choice (driving along the Interstate does not provide many alternatives).

I have been some variation of a vegetarian for almost 6 years now. I started out by eliminating red meat from my diet, then when I went to college and started cooking for myself, I found I bought less and less meat, so I decided to make a conscious decision to stop eating it, with the exception of fish, which is the stage I have been in for the last three years. I started bookmarking and following various food blogs, some strictly vegetarian, some not. 101 Cookbooks quickly became one of my favorites; last summer I discovered this recipe for a homemade veggie burger and have yet to find one that even comes close to being more mouth-watering . The author of this blog, Heidi Swanson, has produced two cook books, Super Natural Every Day and Super Natural Cooking, which I ordered today, and cannot wait to receive. So excited to be inspired and drool over the gorgeous photography (most of it her own).     

photos via Heidi Swanson

Happy (belated) Birthday, Bob Dylan

Yesterday, one of the most prolific songwriters of the 20th century turned 70. Bob Dylan, whose real name is Robert Zimmerman, was one of the first 60s era folk/rock singer songwriters I came to love. Next to Neil Young, Dylan wins the prize for the highest number of songs by a single artist in my iTunes library. I've seen him in concert twice, but sadly both experiences were dissapointing, the first because of a poor venue, the second due to the fact that this aging legend has lost his ability to sing like he used to. But regardless, the classic recordings produce sweet melodies and intimate narratives.  

Why You

One of my recent musical discoveries is Joe Purdy, who has joined the growing list of singer/songwriters I have developed an increasing infatuation with. I am drawn to the soulful lyrics, strong melodies, and the use of acoustic guitars.  I had yet to purchase any of his music, but yesterday, after one of my coworkers mentioned in passing that Purdy is coming to perform here, we got into a lengthy discussion about music and I ended up going home with more Joe Purdy than I would ever be willing to buy at a single time, plus a few others. Some of the artists I had heard of, but most I hadn't. He is coming to Santa Fe the end of April; it'll be an hour-long drive both ways - on a night when I have to go to work the next day -  but totally worth it.

Support Public Broadcasting

Right now there are several bills in Congress that threaten federal funding for public broadcasting. Personally, I have found some of the most interesting, engaging, and entertaining programs on these types of stations. I find myself turning to them more and more while avoiding their commercial counterparts like the plague.

Using Comic Sans

Someone at work sent this around the office today. It is an unspoken rule among graphic designers that never, ever, under any circumstances, are we (or anyone else for that matter) permitted to use this font. Considered to be a typographic sin, it makes every good designer cringe.   

Pictures of Garbage/Waste Land

"Filmed over nearly three years, 'WASTE LAND' follows renowned artist Vik Muniz as he journeys from his home base in Brooklyn to his native Brazil and the world's largest garbage dump, Jardim Gramacho, located on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro. There he photographs an eclectic band of "catadores" - or self-designated pickers of recyclable materials. Muniz's initial objective was to "paint" the catadores with garbage. However, his collaboration with these inspiring characters as they recreate photographic images of themselves out of garbage reveals both dignity and despair as the catadores begin to re-imagine their lives. Walker ('DEVIL'S PLAYGROUND', 'BLINDSIGHT') has great access to the entire process and, in the end, offers stirring evidence of the transformative power of art and the alchemy of the human spirit."

Somewhat surprisingly, I had never heard of Vik Muniz, before going to see this documentary. I am intrigued by his work, not just the subject matter, but the materials used to create them. In the past he has created works out of such things as sugar, syrup, and other unlikely materials. "Muniz questions the nature and traditions of visual representation by ingeniously using unlikely materials to 'draw' the subjects of his conventional gelatin-silver prints." His work reminds me a bit of Stefan Sagmeister, who is also a master of creations with unusual stuff. If you have an opportunity to see this film wherever you are, GO!

The Mountains Are Calling...

with the first signs of snow. It is around this time of year that I get itchy for the soon to be (hopefully) snow covered peaks of Northern New Mexico and Colorado. I search the weather reports for winter storms headed toward the Southwest and get butterflies when I see any trace of activity. I've had an affinity for winter probably since I was born, given the fact that my birthday falls 11 days after the equinox; in 7th grade I was the "Snow Queen" for Halloween, and still lay claim to the title.  

It would be safe to say that I have been skiing since before I could walk, back in the day when it was still acceptable, and widely popular, to strap your kid to your back and go flying down the mountain at a commercial ski area. I tried snowboarding a few years ago, but quickly decided two boards were better than one and haven't looked back. For a long time I was a cautious skier, wary of making a left turn because it required me to put weight on my right leg which has always been weaker. I waited as long as I possibly could to make that turn, traversing to the edge of the trail, stopping, then proceeding nervously. In recent years however, I have continually gone for the more challenging terrain: the bump runs, trees (skiing in between them), and knee-deep powder; the groomers that used to be my haven don't quite satisfy me anymore, though I do love the occasional fast carving run. There is a certain satisfaction that comes with the familiar burning in the calves after the descent of a steep powder run.   

Every year around Christmastime my family plans a trip to Wolf Creek in southern Colorado. Advertised as receiving "the most snow in Colorado," they get an average of 465 natural inches (roughly 40 feet) in a single season. The best thing about Wolf Creek, aside from the snow and terrain, is they are still (for now) a small, family-run area. Wolf Creek has yet to be consumed by a big resort "village" at the base of the mountain, though there has been a continuous (rightfully rejected) proposal for years; last year we signed a petition to try once again to cease the possibility of development.

Closer to home we head for Pajarito Mountain, which is New Mexico's best kept secret with some of the most diverse terrain in the state next to Taos Ski Valley, and no lift lines. Pajarito is a special place for a number of reasons: my dad and his siblings grew up skiing there; my aunt and uncle met there on the chairlift; my grandfather was on the ski patrol until his late 70s; and it is where I am continually amazed to still be skiing alongside him, now at the age of 88. During the winter he spends as many days as he can on the mountain and has taken to counting the number runs he can do in a single day; he was exuberant when he reached a record of 13 last year. When he feels like it, he tags along with us to Wolf Creek. He goes a bit slower these days and sticks to the groomers, but I swear nothing is going to stop this man from skiing until the day he dies. 

So... it's off to Colorado this weekend, grandpa in tow, for a few days of pre-Christmas skiing. The weather here has been unseasonably warm and dry, but a big storm the end of this week will hopefully make for some great first tracks of the season. 

Missing The Broadway Cafe

While I was in school in Kansas City, I made it an almost weekly ritual to walk to my favorite coffeehouse, The Broadway Cafe. I would go mid-morning and stay for a couple hours, working on schoolwork of course, but the environment was what stimulated me. Saturday and Sunday mornings at 9a.m. Broadway was buzzing. The smell of freshly roasted beans filled the air and an eclectic playlist amused the ears. It wasn't uncommon for me to run into dozens of familiar faces due to its proximity to campus. I would also see many people who, like me, made a habit of coming there regularly. I have yet to have a latte that rivaled the look and quality of the ones I ordered at Broadway. The delicate heart or leaf drawn on top of the crema would show until the last sip. A few months ago a friend introduced me to another one of these coffeehouses. As we poured over sketchbooks filled with stories from passersby, I was reminded of days spent at The Broadway Cafe.