I hate stairs   In case of a fire, use the elevator. Quickly.

A break from disability blogging today.

Ron Paul, his supporters, and like-minded individuals have gathered in Minneapolis today amidst the Republican National Convention to “rally” behind the idea of a free America. The Rally for the Republic has come at a crucial point in United States history. Many voters I know are students who are going to be voting for the first time. And they don’t know who to vote for. One candidate promises change, but proposes policies that furthers federal government control. The other candidate promises to not raise taxes, but plans to keep investing in an American empire all over the world, including a possible conflict with Iran.

Today, 10,000 people came together in Minneapolis to say “enough.” Those who could not be there, are with them in spirit… and watched the live video at Ron Paul’s Campaign For Liberty.

I was one of them.

As of only a few days ago, I knew not for which candidate I would vote. Today I am proud to say that my vote will not likely go to John McCain or Barack Obama. I have not yet decided whether I will vote for the Libertarian Party candidate or the Constitution Party candidate. Or who knows, I may write-in Ron Paul. But whoever it is will share my beliefs about the economy. I fear we are headed for a depression as bad or worse than the Great one.

Ron Paul has addressed problems with our economy (e.g. inflation). He has plans to cut federal spending by not letting the federal government overstep its boundaries, set forth in the Constitution. The government’s involvement in healthcare has helped to drive up medical costs while putting more red tape between doctors and their patients.

I’m tired of beurocracies. I’m tired of government waste.

I want an America that doesn’t rely on the government to fulfill all its wants and needs. Power should lie with the people.

You may not be able to tell from the title, but this post is going to be a book review of sorts. One Mary Johnson from one Ragged Edge Magazine penned a manual called “Disability Awareness—Do It Right!”

I was inspired to read this book, which I actually bought last year, because my student organizations disability awareness event(s) are coming up in October. Had I known that this book would help me clarify my perception of disability and awareness of it, I would of read it the day I bought it.

Johnson begins the path to understanding by helping the reader “unlearn” the things he or she “knows” about disability awareness days—and disability in general. Johnson introduces a largely unknown, but not new, way of thinking about disability awareness. Her ideas are not the result of a mere “gut feeling.” In Disability Awareness, Johnson looks to civil rights movements in the past, research from universities, and insight from disability activists to shed light on disability, awareness of it, and how disability awareness events should be approached to achieve optimal results.

Johnson bases much, if not all, of her ideas on the social model of disability. Since I entered the disability blogosphere just two and a half months ago in June 2008, I have been trying to understand the social model of disability as opposed to the medical model.

The social model divides the term “disability” into two parts. There’s the impairment, which is the actual blindness, muscle weakness, paralysis, disease, or other loss of function. Then there’s the disability, which is the extent to which the person with the impairment is “disabled” due to society’s failure to accommodate him or her (e.g., no ramp onto a sidewalk). To better understand this idea, let’s look at a real-life example.

Before McCool Hall, a building on campus, was renovated and expanded, I had one completely accessible entrance. There was a level, automatic-by-motion-sensor door in the back of the building. Freeze. My impairment is my Spinal Muscular Atrophy. My disability was the fact that I could not enter in the front of the building because the fully accessible entrance was in the back of the building. Continue.

McCool Hall underwent renovation and expansion. The building expansion resulted in the once-accessible entrance being covered up by the add-on, which itself did not have an accessible entrance. In the days right after the building reopened for the new semester, there was no accessible entrance. I missed my first class. Freeze. My impairment? Still the same. My disability, however, had changed for the worse—I was not able to attend class because there were no accessible entrances to the building. While a handful of accessibility concerns remains, McCool is now more accessible (at least to people using wheelchairs) as it includes three accessible entrances.

Considering this social model of disability, Johnson helps the reader clarify and understand the goal of a disability awareness day. She provides tips on how to get the intended message to the target audience while avoiding any “unintended consequences.”

“Disability Awareness—Do It Right!” is a must-read for anyone involved in planning an effective disability awareness day that focuses on change. Thank you Mary Johnson. Thank you.

Or at least now they can be.

I’m going to do some market testing with a product idea that I hope will not destroy the readership this blog is suppose to serve. About a month ago, my brother and I stumbled upon an idea. It was funny. To us. Then we thought, “There’s millions of people like us.” Could we sell our idea? It was so crazy it just might work. We brainstormed for a couple of hours and came up with about fifteen to twenty funny, edgy lines about disability to be printed on t-shirts. We put them through our own critiques and narrowed the list to about nine. We want to pick about three to print, and then we’ll go from there.

So this is a good time for my disclaimer. It’s possible that some of our shirt ideas could be offensive to some people. We mean the best. Really. And a lot of these shirts could potentially be ice-breakers to help get past social barriers. But we want to know which ones will cause laughing-induced snorts and which ones would best be put to rest. So if one does offend you, let me know. If you can’t continue reading because you’re laughing to hard, wait a second, take a deep breath, and let me know which one was awesome.

Okay. Now that we’ve put that behind us, let us continue. I’m going to give these images title attributes, so I think screen readers will be okay. Someone let me know if I’m wrong there and need to type each caption in the text.

Since I’m a little biased, many of these shirts are meant for wheelchair users (although there is a good one for people who are blind). So I find it helpful to imagine an unsuspecting able-body person and a disabled person (probably in a wheelchair) approaching each other on the sidewalk. The disabled person is wearing a shirt that says:

Now you know where that silly blog name came from. :-)

Great t-shirt ideas? Or greatest t-shirt ideas? Let me know in the comments, would ya?

I’m nearing my last year of school. This time next year, I hope to be employed. The taxpayers of Mississippi and the nation have helped me with the cost of attendants and the cost of my education. I am grateful, and I am ready to get a job and put back into the system. That’s the problem though. I can’t seem to find a way off of the system.

I’m receiving insurance and healthcare benefits through Medicaid. While there is at least one Medicaid program that would allow me to earn a moderate salary, all Medicaid programs I have found out about share one financially damaging caveat. I can only have $2000 in savings (more accurately, resources, which include savings, property besides home, extra vehicles, etc.). Furthermore, I was told by a Social Security employee that Medicaid’s policies change from year to year, and I could possibly find myself suddenly uneligible. So there I would be, with only $2000 in savings and no health insurance. And if I were to get a raise or promotion, I might be put over the salary cap.

It is possible that if I had a high enough salary, I could pay my attendants out of pocket. And I may be able to get insurance through my job. The problem is that it takes about sixteen hours of attendant care per day if I were to live completely independently (as I do in college). If I stayed at home, I would need four to eight hours a day. The expenses add up. How can I pay an attendant a decent wage when I may be only making a decent wage myself?

The problem is that the same support I need to get through college, I will need when I get a job. But the programs I rely on now either cease after school or will limit my career opportunities. There’s no transition. Not being able to move forward, should I simply stay unemployed and continue living with full Medicaid benefits?

I believe the solution lies in a compromise of transition. A program by which people with disabilities can work without financial caps, giving them full access to any career opportunities. But it could also minimize the cost of benefits the state would provide. Here’s how it would work. Let’s assume I get a job and I am able to get insurance through my employer. I would have a counselor who determines how many hours of assistance I need (a counselor would also be helpful for making sure people don’t abuse the system). Then, the counselor would take my yearly (or monthly) income and run it through a formula that would result in the amount of financial assistance I would get. It would be assumed that I could personally cover the rest. That’s it. Simple.

It’s a win-win. I get to work and take advantage of any career opportunities, and the state will save money. I would be paying taxes and covering some or most of my attendant costs.

If only I could imagine this program into existance.