I’m not ashamed to admit last month I was scared out of my
mind. In March of last year, I began
what turned into one of the more transformative experiences of my life. As
someone who had long dreamed of working in disability advocacy, the internship
was everything I could have hoped. I grew as an advocate, employee, and most
importantly as a human being. But, my time as an Intern flew past faster than I
could have imagined. Fall turned to winter, and my internship ended. I was stuck,
terrified of falling into a trap, caught again in a menial job so far removed
from my passions or skills. I had a glimpse of a life I would never have
dreamed possible, and all too abruptly that window closed. It was a difficult
transition to say the least, and one which I did not weather well. Thankfully, as has so often been the story of
my life, I was given yet another incredible opportunity. Jane Hudson, Executive
Director of Disability Rights Iowa gave me a call, and offered me a position at
her wonderful organization. I was ready to say yes before the end of her
sentence, let alone knowing the full extent of what my work would entail. In
many ways it didn’t matter. Here was an opportunity to do what I’ve always
wanted, to work in service to people with disabilities. As I did finally
familiarize myself with the specific goals and objectives of my grant, I’ve
become even secure in that I’m exactly where I belong. And so….I’d like to share with you my new job
and all that it entails, if for no over reason then I’m a terrible braggart.
People with disabilities are taught to be fearful; that I
think is an undeniable fact of living in an ablest world. The disabled are
taught to fear those who hold our safety and dignity in little regard, to fear
the sharp decline, violence and neglect, the exhausting pull of poverty and
institutionalization. We save and we save, knowing full well what awaits us if
our body fails, and our family is not present to catch us. People with
disabilities are observers of the world, and we note sometimes with bitterness
our place in it. We do not forget the pallor of the shuffling wards of
Willowbrook, we remember every crack in the aqua paint on the Attalissa
bunkhouse. These abuses inform our expectations; they force the sensible among
us to fear all the vicious realities that plague people with disabilities. They
are in fact inescapable, made worse by the endless chorus of reduced
expectations, patronization and the constant dictates of a maddening bureaucracy
to which we are subjected. As our
society molts away the prejudices and misconceptions that have so dominated
thinking on disability, these attitudes will become more and more rare. Yet,
for the moment they persist, thus limit the choices for thousands of disabled
Iowans. That lack of choice nearly made me forgo the internship that led to
this job.
It is not difficult to recall my feelings as I moved into
employment for the first time. I am after all simply a year removed from the
experience. It’s a tremendously scary
thing, seeking out a job when you have a disability. People with disabilities
often spend years building a system of supports that allow us to live our
lives. Social Security is a large part of that support, it being the first
taste of income many of us ever get. I remember distinctly my first month controlling
my social security check. It was incredible.
To have money is to have choices, and I was not used to such a luxury.
Social security along with a small minimum wage job got me my current
apartment. That small level of independence is one of the major sources of joy
in my life, and social security was essential to making it possible. Working beyond those few hours at a movie
theater seemed foolish then, even outright suicidal, it felt like I was compromising my ability to
live as a full adult by even considering it. As much as I wanted the paid
internship position at DRI, I thought doing so would totally erode all the
services I needed to be independent. Thankfully, I decided to risk it despite
serious reservations, and was shocked to ultimately discover that my Social
Security wasn’t going to just disappear. Due to work incentives, I was able to
work and draw funds for a few months as I got settled, and made sure I would be
able to rise to the work required of me. That eased transition made me feel
employable, and secure enough to leave Social Security behind. Still, to think
that such fears could have kept me continually chained to Social Security
Disability is a sad thought, and I’m so happy to now be able to dedicate myself
to alleviate such fears from others in my community. Mine is an incredible job,
and a unique chance to help others avoid the struggles I encountered on my road
to employment.
Starting this past week, I’m a new advocate at Disability
Rights Iowa, working under the PABSS grant. Its purpose and scope is clear. I
work for the protection and advocacy of beneficiaries of social security,
helping to empower individuals as they work towards meaningful employment. Over
the next year and a half, I will be educating the community on work incentives,
helping connect individuals with benefits planners, and help to hold
accountable the many institutions that have been established to find meaningful
work for people with disabilities. More than anything else, I hope to become a
comprehensive resource for people who are eager to become full participants in
their community. That alone would keep me busy, but I’m also a part of a larger
project of which I’m incredibly proud. Iowa is a bit behind the times when it
comes to integrating people with disabilities into employment. Unfortunately,
the model of the sheltered workshop is all too common, the non-profit which
segregates people with disabilities and pays far below the minimum wage. It’s a holdout from a much darker, less
opportune time for people with disabilities, and its evolution towards a modern
method of vocational support for the disabled has been as long one. As a part
of my work, I’ll be able to explore these workshops, learning along with PABSS
Attorney John Gish the ways they operate, hearing the stories and experiences
of their disabled employees first hand. It’s enough to make your head spin, yet
the marriage of advocacy and direct service appeals to me. I have before me the chance to support the
dreams of others, to learn from the experiences of people with disabilities in
all lines of work, and earn a wage and benefits that offer me a security far
beyond what I am accustomed. I am used to being afraid, as are many of us. And
so, as long as this haven lasts, I must work as hard as I can to usher others
to a security all their own. To do less would be to ignore how very lucky I
have been, how lucky I remain, and the countless others who have been denied
the opportunity that has been afforded me. Thanks to everyone at DRI for their work.
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