The Biggest Barrier . . . Between the Ears

A simple definition of accessibility: The degree to which a product, device, service, or environment is available to as many people as possible.  We live in a world of varying accessibility . . . everything in life is not available to every person.  Not only do we live in a world with varying degrees of accessibility; the older I get, the accessibility grows even smaller.  This diminishing world of accessibility can be attributed to the fact that I am aging.  In growing older, I do not see as well as I once did . . . I do not hear as well as I once did . . . I am not as agile as I once was . . . and, my income is growing smaller all of the time.  All these things limit my access to different parts of the world around me.  Yet, like many out there, I believe that all things should be available to all people . . . the world that God created should be accessible to all of God’s children . . . me and you and everyone else.  We are all God’s children.

The sad fact of the matter is, the world is not as accessible as we would like it to be . . . for a variety of reasons.  We see this denial of access throughout history.  Race has always been a big barrier to access in our society . . . ask any person of color . . . ask a black person, a Hispanic person, a Native American Indian, and they would all affirm that throughout history and today they have fought for access to the world around them that has been denied because they were people of color.  Gender has been a barrier to access . . . ask a woman and she would tell you that things have been tough in gaining access to the world around them.  Ask people with disabilities and, they too, would affirm that they do not see a whole lot of access to the world around them.  Poor people could join the choir.  Gay and lesbians, too.  Elderly are beginning to feel it too.  History shows that we have had to legislate access into law to get a lot of these folks access . . . legislation that doesn’t seem to have made much difference.  The world is still pretty inaccessible to a whole lot of people.

As humans we do a real good job of talking about accessibility . . . about inclusion . . . about bringing everyone to the table for the party; but, the reality is we do not practice it as well as we preach it.  And, I believe, we are all guilty of it.  All of us know the motto of the Three Musketeers, “All for one, and one for all!”  Yet, we live in a time when we practice survival of the fittest and everyone for him or herself.  Plus, I think we are lazy.  Our laziness keeps us from truly practicing accessibility in our lives and in the world in which we exist.  Most accessibility issues are not that difficult to overcome . . . some cost a little money . . . some an investment in time . . . some cost a little effort.  But rarely do we really want to expend that much of our money, time, or effort . . . we don’t want to be bothered.  Unfortunately I think that drops it into the area of sinfulness . . . of committing a sin.  At least if one believes in M. Scott Peck’s definition of sin being taking the easy way out.  The bottom line is that as humans, the majority of us, don’t do well with accessibility . . . we either ignore it or we deny it.

I do not believe that the biggest barriers to accessibility are time, effort, and money.  I think that we have plenty of those resources at our disposal.  I think that the biggest barrier that we have to accessibility in the world in which we live is an attitude problem.  As an attitude problem the issue lies between our ears . . . it is all in our minds.  When scraping to the bottom of the barrel when it comes to issues of accessibility, it comes down to what is between our ears . . . it comes down to our attitudes. 

When I was in seminary—long before the Americans with Disabilities Act  (ADA) was made into law—the administration was bemoaning the fact that the seminary was required by federal law to make its building accessible to people with disabilities.  Primarily it meant putting in an elevator.  I remember hearing a professor tell a class that in the past it was no problem to get a person in a wheel chair from the first to the second floor—several of the male classmates would just pick the person up in his or her wheel chair and carry them up the stairs.  As far as this professor was concerned, the seminary didn’t need to waste money on an elevator . . . money that he deemed better spent on education.

Now mind you, this was a seminary.  A seminary where people were being educated and trained to be ministers within the church.  A church that believed in and proclaimed to follow the teachings and examples of Jesus.  To say the least, I was floored at such an attitude.  It didn’t seem very Christian to me.  Money was not a big issue . . . attitude was.

At the university where I work I have had the privilege to meet many wonderful people who are both able and disable in body.  One young man I met flew through the university’s education program to become a teacher.  He had excellent grades.  He jumped through every hoop put before him.  He meet all the criteria to graduate and become a teacher.  He even succeeded in getting through the state-mandated tests to be licensed as a teacher in Montana.  That was two years ago . . . do you think any school district hired him to teach in their classrooms?  Not one.  Though they would not say it, his wheel chair was an issue.  It did not matter how high in the class he graduated . . . how good of a teacher he was . . . no school district was going to hire him because of his disability.  They weren’t even willing to give him a shot.

These barriers have to do with what is in the minds of people and nothing else.  Time, money, and effort can solve the problems of physical accessibility, but until the issue between the ears is ever addressed, nothing will change.

Now, I am sure there are those of you who are out there reading this and thinking that I am full of it.  If so, I want you to take a moment and consider your own life.  Take a few minutes to think about where you work . . . how it is on diversity?  Take a few minutes to think about the organizations and clubs you belong to . . . how diverse are they?  Think about the neighbor where you live . . . the community in which you . . . the places you like to play . . . are they diverse?  Think about where you go to worship . . . is there diversity?  I doubt it.  I doubt it because as humans we have a tendency to gather with those who are the most like us . . . including the places where we worship.  My questions is . . . why?  Why isn’t there more diversity?  Is it because there is lack of funding, time, or effort . . . or, is it attitudes? 

I think it is a problem that lies between our ears . . . our minds.  That is the greatest barrier to accessibility.  Until we can tear down that barrier, the world will never be a place where all can gather at the table as one family in God.  Think about it . . . that is where it must begin.  Think about it and ask yourself, who is not at the table?  And . . . why?

Walking Among the Giants

There are little people among us.  I think that we forget this . . . that there are little people among us.  I know I do.  A co-worker recently had a few of her nephews visit her at the university . . . little, short people . . . children.  I saw the little people as they walked among us giants.  I nearly stepped on one because I forgot to look down.  Inches from crushing the child, a thought flashed through my mind, there are little human beings among us giants. 

                                     

My granddaughter is one of those little people . . . and, in my estimation, she is one of the coolest little kids I know; but, then again, I don’t know a whole bunch of children at this time in my life.  But, that does not mean they are not there . . . they are, lots of them.  Little, itty-bitty human beings walking in the land of the giants.  We giants need to be watching our steps.

That little epiphany got me to thinking . . . about little people.  Now, I understand that the term “little people” is used by those who are short in stature due nothing in their control . . . they were just born that way.  And, because they were born that way they have put up with a whole lot of discrimination, prejudice, and cruel behavior because they are different than the majority of people in the world.  I do not mean them any disrespect, but at the same time (and, I think they would agree), there are a whole lot of other people who fall into the category of “little people”.  These are people, who due circumstances beyond their control, are those who are deemed less than everyone else.  These are the people who are different than everyone.  Because they are different they are treated with discrimination, prejudice, bullying, disrespect . . . and, even to the point of death making.  Here are a few groups that I would throw into the category of “little people”: elderly, those with disabilities, the poor, the homeless . . . and, even women.  These are some of the “little people” who walk in the land of the giants . . . trying like hell not to get stepped on.

I think that we forget the “little people” in our lives.  I think that we don’t pay them much mind.  That we try to avoid them . . . ignore them . . . push them out to the outer reaches of our lives.  And, I think we usually don’t even know that they are there until we step on a few of them . . . only then does it seem that the “little people” get our attention.

One of my favorite Dr. Seuss books is Horton Hears a Who.  It is a book that deals with “little people” and a stubborn elephant’s efforts to stand up for them when everyone else ignores them and threatens to kill them by boiling the “dust speck”.  It is from this book that one of the most quoted lines is written: “A person is a person, no matter how small.”  The sad thing about the quote, as loved as it is, is that most people don’t put much into living it . . . nope, it is easier to step on the “little people” than to welcome them into the land of the giants.

Those children, running around our offices, reminded me of how scary it was as a child to be in the land of the giants.  How scary it was that there were so many giants that could step on me or hurt me.  How scary it was to never to be able to see anything because the giants blocked me from being able to see the world around me.  And, those children reminded me of my granddaughter as she begins her journey through the land of the giants.  I pray that the giants remember to look down, see the little people, and to lift them up so that they can be safe and grow.

“A person’s a person, no matter how small.”

We giants forget that we are giants . . . basically because that is all we see . . . all that we hang out with.  We forget that there are others in the world besides giants . . . little people.  We forget that we can make a difference in the lives of those who are little in the eyes of the giants . . . that we can help the little people walk among the giants . . . to have a life that allows them to be one of the giants.  We forget that we were little once too . . . and, some giant (knowingly or unknowingly) helped us.  In the land of the giants we are called to look down, not up.  I know my granddaughter would appreciate it . . . so would all those the world has deemed to be “little” in its eyes.  In the eyes of God, we are all the same . . . beloved children.  There are no giants in God’s eyes.

Pssst . . . Got Walnuts?

I never imagined the day would come when I would have to slink around in the dark corners of the crime-infested corners of communities to get my hands on . . . walnuts!  Yeah, that is what I wrote . . . walnuts.  Following a link on a friend’s Facebook post, I learned that the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) of our nation’s government has declared that walnuts are drugs . . . not even legal drugs at that.  At least that is what they wrote in a letter to Diamond Foods, a major producer of walnuts.  This stuff is so good, I couldn’t make it up . . . you can read the article for yourself at http://www.realfarmacy.com/walnuts-are-drugs-says-fda/. 

Apparently the problem comes from the fact that Diamond Foods has jumped on the “healthy” bandwagon to sell its nut products to an ever-growing populace demanding healthier products to eat.  Diamond Foods proclaimed—based on nearly a hundred research articles by leading scientists—that walnuts can improve vascular health and may even reduce the risk of heart attacks.  In other words, walnuts are good for a person’s health.  The issue is that none of these scholarly, researched-based proclamations have been approved or endorsed by the FDA.  Because the FDA has not approved these claims . . . approved the research backing them . . . they have threatened to seize the company if it does not stop making such statements to the public.  As far as the FDA is concerned, walnuts are an illegal drug.

Now, I am not a big fan of walnuts.  They are not one of my favorite nuts.  They have a sort of bitter taste to my taste buds; but, I can put up with a few of them showing up in my food every so often.  The wife, on the other hand, finds walnuts a necessity . . . especially around the holiday seasons of Thanksgiving and Christmas.  We are about to enter into the stretch of the holidays, and she is going to be wanting her walnuts.  I can picture it now, I will be wandering the darken streets of the big city down the road . . . hanging out in obscure parking lots . . . looking for the contraband.  Psst . . . got walnuts?  I imagine, because they are illegal and in demand, the price of street walnuts will be outrageous.  Look what the FDA has created . . . good citizens, resorting to a life of crime, to get walnuts.

Silly, isn’t it?

There are cries that this is a conspiracy of some sort that involves both the junk food industry and the pharmaceutical companies . . . it figures.  I think I read in Time magazine recently that they were behind the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963.  These are not entities to mess around with . . . they are big and powerful . . . lots of money, and lots to lose if people actually started eating and living more healthy.  It is rumored that they have their lobbyists deep in the bowels of the FDA.  With much to lose, they are pushing the FDA to stomp the living crud out of any product that proclaims longer and better and healthier lives.

Walnuts are not the first healthy food to take a hit from the FDA.  Apparently the makers of pomegranate juice and green tea have been slapped around by the FDA with similar threats for proclaiming healthy benefits from using their products.  I am surprised that bananas haven’t been outlawed yet . . . bananas are one of the best sources of potassium—especially for older folks.  Isn’t the old adage, “an apple a day keeps the doctor away”, cause enough to gain it on the banned list of the FDA?  It won’t be long before illegal fruit and nut markets will be springing up in obscure locations--where the police can’t find them, to sell all those health food junkies their necessary fixes.

Now, I am not a health food nut . . . nope, far from it.  I am one of the last holdouts in a family in which everyone else is turning to healthier foods.  My children and their spouses are all going organic and healthy.  The wife is going organic and healthy.  They are forcing this regime of healthiness on me against my will . . . telling me it is for me . . . to make me healthier . . . to live longer . . . because they love me. Less red meat, more chicken . . . more fruit and vegetables . . . more nuts . . . and, it has to be organic!  I am starving to death!  My taste buds are rebelling. 

And now, my family is forcing me into a life of crime to keep them fed in such a way that they remain healthy.   So, maybe, just maybe, there is a silver lining to this dark FDA cloud . . . none of the family would want to see me go to jail over buying illegal foods no matter how healthy they might be for us.  Hey, we are law abiding citizens in this family . . . and, illegal is illegal.  I know . . . it is a long stretch of the imagination.  The fact is, the FDA is silly.  Silly in proclaiming something as absurd as walnuts to be an illegal drug.  But, what do we expect . . . after all it is the federal government we are talking about here!

Psst . . . got walnuts?  Apples?  Bananas?  I’ve got cash if you have the stuff!

Auto Prayer

It started simply enough.  A few weeks ago I noticed that my remote key for the Jetta was not working with its normal, magical ability at opening and locking the car doors.  It would hesitate before opening or locking . . . it would make a lot of clicking noises . . . and, I figured that the battery in the remote must be dying; but, it did not do enough to scare me off to purchase the eighty dollar battery to fix it.  Shoot!  I just used the key to open or lock the doors, while keeping the four twenty dollars bills securely in my wallet.  That is what we mechanically inclined Keeners do . . .

. . . then a week ago, something funny happened.  Not funny in the “ha ha” way, but in the peculiar way.  When the remote wouldn’t lock the door, I stuck the key in the lock, turned it, and watched as all four windows rolled down.  I deducted that this is not normal behavior . . . it was as if my car was possessed.  This was something more than the remote . . . this was serious.  I began thinking that it was like some malfunctioning computer chip—yeah, cars have computer chips in them.  But, I did not panic.  I got in the car, rolled up the windows, and went into the house . . . concerned, but not worried. 

Things went well until the night I had to pick up the wife at the airport around 11:00PM.  Not wanting to drive back and forth between home and the Big City, I stayed in town after work.  Went and got my hair cut . . . then I went for a bite to eat . . . then to the book store to kill some time . . . then to the mall to kill some more time.  I had over five hours to kill, so when the mall closed at nine, I headed to the only place I knew that stayed open . . . Wally’s World—it is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week.  All the while I got into the Jetta and drove . . . five different places . . . and, there were no problems with the car. 

At least not until I decided that I had better head off to the airport and pick the wife up.  Leaving Wal-Mart, I sat in the car, and attempted to start my car.  The ignition would not let me put the key in.  My first thought . . . darn microchip!  For the next thirty minutes I tried and tried and tried to get my key into the ignition with no luck.  Thinking it was a microchip I decided to even try the old computer trick of unplugging the car and rebooting it.  I hopped out of the car, disconnected the battery, let it set a few minutes, and then reconnected the battery . . . all to no avail.  The key wouldn’t slide in . . . and, the wife was only minutes from arriving.

Long story short . . . I never got the key in or the car started.  Had to call the oldest son to go pick his mother up at the airport, and then to pick me up.  All the while this is taking place I am trying to shove the key into the ignition.  Needless to say it made for a long night of frustration . . . a few choice words . . . and, the Jetta spending the night in the Wal-Mart parking lot.

Now, this really made a mess out of not only my life, but the life of the whole family.  The oldest lost sleep having to rescue his parents . . . the wife stood out in the cold until picked up . . . and, I was furious and a little bit scared thinking that this little microchip was going to cost me an arm and a leg to fix.  It changed all of our plans the next day as the wife had to take me to work . . . wasn’t something she had planned on doing on her first day hope after a week-long trip. 

But, we did it . . . I got to work.  We talked to the car maintenance place.  I heard the quote for the repair and tow truck—about $600; plus, the fact that my stinking Jetta is a German-made vehicle, it was going to take two weeks to get the part before it could be fixed.  At the same time, and I truly do appreciate this, the guys in the shop made some suggestions: get the spare key and see if it would go in--or—get a can of WD40, spray the key and ignition, and see if works . . . if not, order the part and hope for the best for two weeks.  The second suggestion worked!  My money never left the wallet or the bank . . . I was elated.

Keeners and automobiles are not real compatible when it comes to those little glitches that happen from time to time with cars.  I do not know a whole lot about automobiles beyond where the gas goes in, how to drive them, and when to get their oil changed . . . beyond that . . . well, it is foreign to me.  When it comes to automobiles, I am pretty ignorant and useless if it involves anything mechanical.  Just shoot me and give me the bill.  So, when it came down to purchasing a three dollar can of wonder oil, spraying the key and lock, and banging on the steering wheel . . . well, I was joyful when it worked.

Since then, I have learned that there is actually a prayer for a automobile that won’t start.  I found it on the website, Catholic Answers—To Explain Faith and Defend the Faith (http://forums.catholic.com/showthread.php?t=559602) . . . I never, in a million years, would have ever thought that there was an actual prayer for a car that won’t start.  But, there it was in black and white.  Though it was not of the highest standard of Catholic liturgy, it was an honest and hope-filled prayer:

God, so that I may do your will,

heal this vehicle of it's affliction

in Jesus's name,

I rebuke thee, demons

who are keeping this car from starting.

In the name of the Father, the Son,

and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

These were the instructions that went with the prayer: say the prayer; if it doesn’t start, pump the gas pedal three times and recite the prayer again.  If the car still won’t start, hold the gas pedal on the floor, recite the prayer three times, and try it again while holding the pedal down.  If it starts, let go of the gas pedal and say, “Hail Mary!”  If the car still won’t start, it must be God’s will.  Call a mechanic.  I am not sure I have ever heard the Pope utter this prayer; but, then again, the Pope doesn’t drive.

Next time my car won’t start, well I am going to give it a shot . . . I am going to cross denominational lines and utter the prayer.  At the same time, I am warning God now, if it doesn’t start I will probably say a whole bunch of profane words, seek God’s forgiveness for the utterances, and then call a mechanic.  In the meantime, I have taped these words on the dashboard of my car . . . right next to my plastic Jesus.

I also discovered that there is a patron saint for automobiles—Saint Frances of Rome.  You can read her biography at that source of reliable information (Wikipedia--http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frances_of_Rome).  In 1925, the Pope (Pope Pius XI) declared her the patron saint of automobile drivers because of a legend that an angel used to light the road before her with a lantern when she traveled, keeping her safe from hazards.  Since the Wal-Mart incident I have been looking for a little statute of her to place next to my plastic Jesus.  Haven’t found on yet, but I am still looking . . . I’ll even take one with a bobblehead.  Anything beats a car that won’t start.

You would have thought that I learned my lesson . . . that I went and ordered the new part; but, instead I am taking a leap of faith.  I am going to bank on the prayer for a car that won’t start, a statute of Saint Frances of Rome, and my plastic Jesus.  If that doesn’t work, a can of WD40.  I have faith and I have a can of oil . . . what more do I need?  Sure is cheaper than a six hundred dollar repair!  Thank you, Saint Frances . . . thank you, plastic Jesus . . . and, thank you for the prayer; but most of all, thank you, for WD40!  If it wasn’t for WD40 and a supply of duct tape . . . well, I’d be walking!