Working for an Independent living Center
By Ann Chiappetta
For three years, I worked in an Independent Living Center (referred to as an ILC) located in Yonkers, New York. Westchester Disabled on the Move, Inc., is a not-for-profit organization dedicated to upholding the equal and civil rights and independence of people with disabilities. ILCs can be found in every State and also in other countries. The core programs at our center included, but are not limited to, advocacy, housing, vocational support, access barrier resolution and other State and/or federally funded programs.
I held many job titles in that time period, including a youth leadership coordinator, transportation survey coordinator, and a Medicaid program service coordinator. The tasks I completed for each position held challenges for me both as a blind person and as someone returning to work after a ten year break from the workplace. Some of the challenges were simple to overcome, others weren't so easy. For instance, I had hardly any trouble acclimating to the computer related elements of my new job but I struggled with finding a system to manage the paperwork and hand written documents generated by both the center and the paperwork required by other State or federally funded programs. More often than not, I created accessible documents because the center or agency working with us found certain documents impossible to change or replicate. I had to choose my battles, so to speak, when it came to accessible materials. As much as I wanted to manage the paperwork independently, it just wasn’t feasible without some sighted assistance. Being an ILC and founded upon tenets of equal access, our Center’s executive director and office staff stepped in and provided a reasonable accommodation by scheduling daily and weekly meetings to help me sift through paperwork which wasn’t accessible to me otherwise. I still had complete control of what I wanted and needed to do the job and the staff acted only as an added means of compliance. No one ever told me how to do my job nor did they take away any of my job-related responsibilities.
The list of the most difficult of these documents were always state and federally generated documents. Inevitably, when we would succeed in obtaining a specific accessible electronic set of documents for a program, we would begin a new program and have to start the process all over again. This often led to time lapses in project turn around times and delays.
Despite the paperwork barriers, I found my time was split between coordinating services and referring consumers to other service providers. I became an advocate for our consumers, quite often the only advocate for an individual. I learned that a service coordinator not only assists the person with navigating the various systems but also mentors and/or collaborates with them. Quite often the consumer receiving services is unable to grasp the complexity of a given program. New York State’s Department of Social Services is one example of a public assistance program that intimidates people. I accompanied the consumer every step of the way, from the application process to case review interviews.
A service coordinator also must possess excellent communication skills and be proficient in organizing the care of whatever the consumer requires.
All in all, working for an ILC was extremely important for me because I not only learned how to help others but I also learned how to advocate for myself in the workplace.
If you would like to learn more about ILCs, visit:
http://www.ilru.org/html/publications/directory/index.html
Friday, January 28, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
THE SECOND YEAR
The Second Year: a retrospective in dog guide land
I give the forward command and we begin to cross the street; I hear the car lurch from its place ahead just as Verona walks us out into the cross walk. She stops as the car makes an erratic right on red even though we have the right of way.
“Good dog, “I say, then give the forward command again, and we step out a second time.
The car behind the car that just lurched around the corner on the red decides to do the same and Verona not only stops but backs us up to the curb and does her little dance. I know this dance, it means, “mom, don’t go, we’re in trouble.”
A year ago I didn’t know this signal and felt the whap of a concrete bench on my knee even though she tried to tell me not to take another step. She did her dance then and after that incident, I pay attention to it.
“Okay, Ro, let’s wait a bit,” I tell her and line us up again at the curb. She tries to take me to the perpendicular curb but I tell her no, we need to go this way and she complies reluctantly.
This is where humans and dogs digress in terms of thinking; I know it will most likely be safe this time but she is thinking, wow, it’s going to happen again, and we better get out of here. This is when our mutual trust comes into play and although it seems like we’ll never get across this street, we do it together and do it safely. As we step onto the up- curb, I praise her for being such a great dog by giving her a doggie snack and petting, and we move on to go get lunch.
January 4, 2011 was our second anniversary, what guide dog users call ‘dog day’. I’ve written poems and short essays about this and other aspects of being a first-time guide dog user and this month means we’ve made it past the first two years and our bond is solid and reliable. Verona, whom I now call ro, is a four year old black Labrador retriever weighing in at 60 lbs and about 23” at the shoulder. She is a serious worker but she is also a very playful dog when not in harness. Her ears are too big for her long, wide head and her tail is a rudder like weapon when she’s wagging, which is just about all the time out of harness. She has happy pants syndrome, a constantly swishing rear-end and it hurts if you happen to be in the line of fire of her tail.
But, who, exactly is Verona – and perhaps more importantly, why is she, and other service dogs like her so special?
Her history is fairly typical for a program trained dog: she was a planned birth, her litter the result of Cooper, a black Labrador male, and Eileen, a yellow Labrador female. She is the second of five puppies born on November 24, 2006 at the Guiding Eyes breeding facility in Patterson, New York. At 10 weeks, she was given to her puppy raiser, Carol, who taught her good manners and social skills. At 18 months, she moved from New Hampshire to Yorktown Heights, New York to be proofed for advanced training. She and Carol said goodbye until graduation. Upon passing the test, Verona and her siblings began training for guide dog work.
She lived in the kennel with her buddy, Sawyer, another yellow Labrador until January 2009, when she and I met for the first time. The moment I touched her, it seemed as if the entire time of struggling with vision loss finally held meaning. For the first time, blindness held promise instead of limitations and let downs.
Fast forward a bit, and after years of avoiding events and independent travel, I’m no longer so limited, thanks to Ro and Guiding Eyes for the Blind. I now go wherever I need to with confidence and a safe way to accomplish it.
Ro is more than just a mobility tool, she’s a co-therapist. We’ve visited a local children’s hospital wherein we helped the social worker to ease a nervous teen who was having trouble adjusting to his new environment. She was often the reward for a group of unruly teens as incentive to settle down and work in a group. If they did well, I’d take off her harness and happy pants would take over and relax all of them. We visited our sick friends and recovering clients in hospitals and nursing homes, too. She is now my co-therapist at my new job helping Veterans with disabilities.
Happy Anniversary, Verona, and May your butt always wag so happily.
I love you.
I give the forward command and we begin to cross the street; I hear the car lurch from its place ahead just as Verona walks us out into the cross walk. She stops as the car makes an erratic right on red even though we have the right of way.
“Good dog, “I say, then give the forward command again, and we step out a second time.
The car behind the car that just lurched around the corner on the red decides to do the same and Verona not only stops but backs us up to the curb and does her little dance. I know this dance, it means, “mom, don’t go, we’re in trouble.”
A year ago I didn’t know this signal and felt the whap of a concrete bench on my knee even though she tried to tell me not to take another step. She did her dance then and after that incident, I pay attention to it.
“Okay, Ro, let’s wait a bit,” I tell her and line us up again at the curb. She tries to take me to the perpendicular curb but I tell her no, we need to go this way and she complies reluctantly.
This is where humans and dogs digress in terms of thinking; I know it will most likely be safe this time but she is thinking, wow, it’s going to happen again, and we better get out of here. This is when our mutual trust comes into play and although it seems like we’ll never get across this street, we do it together and do it safely. As we step onto the up- curb, I praise her for being such a great dog by giving her a doggie snack and petting, and we move on to go get lunch.
January 4, 2011 was our second anniversary, what guide dog users call ‘dog day’. I’ve written poems and short essays about this and other aspects of being a first-time guide dog user and this month means we’ve made it past the first two years and our bond is solid and reliable. Verona, whom I now call ro, is a four year old black Labrador retriever weighing in at 60 lbs and about 23” at the shoulder. She is a serious worker but she is also a very playful dog when not in harness. Her ears are too big for her long, wide head and her tail is a rudder like weapon when she’s wagging, which is just about all the time out of harness. She has happy pants syndrome, a constantly swishing rear-end and it hurts if you happen to be in the line of fire of her tail.
But, who, exactly is Verona – and perhaps more importantly, why is she, and other service dogs like her so special?
Her history is fairly typical for a program trained dog: she was a planned birth, her litter the result of Cooper, a black Labrador male, and Eileen, a yellow Labrador female. She is the second of five puppies born on November 24, 2006 at the Guiding Eyes breeding facility in Patterson, New York. At 10 weeks, she was given to her puppy raiser, Carol, who taught her good manners and social skills. At 18 months, she moved from New Hampshire to Yorktown Heights, New York to be proofed for advanced training. She and Carol said goodbye until graduation. Upon passing the test, Verona and her siblings began training for guide dog work.
She lived in the kennel with her buddy, Sawyer, another yellow Labrador until January 2009, when she and I met for the first time. The moment I touched her, it seemed as if the entire time of struggling with vision loss finally held meaning. For the first time, blindness held promise instead of limitations and let downs.
Fast forward a bit, and after years of avoiding events and independent travel, I’m no longer so limited, thanks to Ro and Guiding Eyes for the Blind. I now go wherever I need to with confidence and a safe way to accomplish it.
Ro is more than just a mobility tool, she’s a co-therapist. We’ve visited a local children’s hospital wherein we helped the social worker to ease a nervous teen who was having trouble adjusting to his new environment. She was often the reward for a group of unruly teens as incentive to settle down and work in a group. If they did well, I’d take off her harness and happy pants would take over and relax all of them. We visited our sick friends and recovering clients in hospitals and nursing homes, too. She is now my co-therapist at my new job helping Veterans with disabilities.
Happy Anniversary, Verona, and May your butt always wag so happily.
I love you.
Friday, January 14, 2011
listen to my interview
This is a radio interview about my disability and how I got through it.
http://www.wgch.com/showarchive/shs.shtml
http://www.wgch.com/showarchive/shs.shtml
Sunday, January 9, 2011
flare ups and frustration
Well, don't know how it happened but I've been nursing a sore elbow and hand. Woke up a few days ago and noticed it hurt to bend my elbow and it worsened to not being able to even hold anything in my hand. So, took Advil and slathered on Tiger Balm and figured the weekend would help ease the pain if I rested it. It's Sunday and as you can tell by my posting, I'm still typing. Not the end of the world but the pain and the limitations are just so frustrating. I'm already blind, what more do I need? Gripe, gripe.
At least I got my nails done and my feet prettied up at the salon today. That made me feel much better.
At least I got my nails done and my feet prettied up at the salon today. That made me feel much better.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
The Year in Review
GREETINGS FROM CASTLE CHIAPPETTA
December 2010
The year in review: at home and other happenings.
The first few months of 2010 were more or less quiet, as Jerry and I were still healing from shoulder and gallbladder surgeries respectively. It certainly felt like the winter would never end and then it was spring. Verona and I celebrated our first year together in January by traveling up to Guiding Eyes and taking part in the graduation ceremony and kennel tour. We’ve come a long way since our training and I’m so glad I’ve got her in my life.
Jerry’s been working for Homeland Security now for over ten years and this year has been full of unexpected changes since the Obama administration has taken charge but for the most part, it’s all been minor.
Anthony hasn’t decided what to do once he graduates high school but we are hoping he will figure it out this year. He’s got a knack for languages and has a great radio voice, so perhaps he’ll look into audio engineering. He’s very good at multi player role playing games, like World of Warcraft, and from what I hear, is well respected and plays with a core group of people who respect and like him. His next step is to find a training program or enroll in a community college.
April has been battling a series of throat infections since May and missed the first half of school due to three episodes of tonsillitis, one so serious she was put on prednisone for a week and two rounds of antibiotics. The specialist finally said the only way to keep these infections from reoccurring was to remove her tonsils, adenoids and excess sinus tissue. As I write this, she is recovering from the procedure which was done on December 15th.
Backtracking a bit, we took our annual vacation in August, piling into the new Toyota Tacoma truck and drove to Pennsylvania. Neeka went with my friend and dog trainer, Jamie while we were away.
We first went to the PA Renaissance festival – Huzzah! -- It was hot but bearable. We stayed at a motel, and then drove on to stay near Stroudsburg at a KOA. Our cabin was clean and had air conditioning and a bathroom. The camp grounds had an awesome pool with a fountain at one end and a spiral slide at the other, restaurant, and Dog Park, just to name a few amenities. We went to Hershey Park but left after only half the day due to excessive heat. It was 98 degrees by noon and neither myself nor Verona could take it. April and I did get to go on some awesome coasters, though and I had the best sour cherry slushie ever. The heat reminded me to ask myself, whatever possessed us to take our vacations in the dead heat of summer?Ugh. Verona was so well-behaved, staying on the porch and guiding me expertly through all the crowds, heat, and obstacles, especially at the R. Fair. I would love to get back to that KOA in the fall and bum around all the little towns in Lancaster as well as hit the outlet stores before Xmas crazies. Having ro is a true gift and every year I grow to appreciate it more and more. J
Jerry, April, Carol and Verona and I drove up to Foxwood’s resort and casino for an overnight stay. Jerry and I went to see Jethro Tull at the MGM Grand’s theater while Carol and April bummed around the hotel, mall, and casino. Someone had to stay with Verona while we attended the show. Well, not really but it was a good excuse to get the kid to come so we wouldn’t worry about leaving her at home with only Anthony, who is not a babysitter.
On September 22, Jerry and I celebrated our 20th anniversary by going to a B & B inn Greenwood Lake, Orange County, N.Y. We did some apple picking with Verona, who had to guide me off-road, so to speak. Low hanging branches, gullies, yards and yards of half rotten apples, and little kids wanting to hug her were just some of the most eventful items we negotiated. It was a lot of fun and she did so well, we let her play kill the Frisbee twice when we got back to the room near the lake.
We went to a great German restaurant called The Breezy Point Inn, which is a B & B with a huge dining hall which serves an authentic pig roast buffet. It was excellent, Jerry and I both ate way too much and rolled out of there with fond memories of everything from the schnitzel and apple strudel with vanilla ice cream to the hog’s head on the buffet’s carving table. J
In October I changed jobs and I’m now working as a family therapist for the Veterans Administration located in White Plains, N.Y. It’s been five years since graduation with my master’s degree and I’m finally where I should be in terms of my career. I am so very grateful for the folks who helped me and I’ll never forget those who mentored me to this point. God’s blessings are with me and for that I’m just a humble pie. J
What’s in store for us this year? Number one on our list would be: no more surgeries. After that, we’re happy with whatever comes along.
Love and best wishes to all in 2011!
Annie, Jerry, Anthony, April, Neeka, Verona, and the bird, hamster, and fish.
December 2010
The year in review: at home and other happenings.
The first few months of 2010 were more or less quiet, as Jerry and I were still healing from shoulder and gallbladder surgeries respectively. It certainly felt like the winter would never end and then it was spring. Verona and I celebrated our first year together in January by traveling up to Guiding Eyes and taking part in the graduation ceremony and kennel tour. We’ve come a long way since our training and I’m so glad I’ve got her in my life.
Jerry’s been working for Homeland Security now for over ten years and this year has been full of unexpected changes since the Obama administration has taken charge but for the most part, it’s all been minor.
Anthony hasn’t decided what to do once he graduates high school but we are hoping he will figure it out this year. He’s got a knack for languages and has a great radio voice, so perhaps he’ll look into audio engineering. He’s very good at multi player role playing games, like World of Warcraft, and from what I hear, is well respected and plays with a core group of people who respect and like him. His next step is to find a training program or enroll in a community college.
April has been battling a series of throat infections since May and missed the first half of school due to three episodes of tonsillitis, one so serious she was put on prednisone for a week and two rounds of antibiotics. The specialist finally said the only way to keep these infections from reoccurring was to remove her tonsils, adenoids and excess sinus tissue. As I write this, she is recovering from the procedure which was done on December 15th.
Backtracking a bit, we took our annual vacation in August, piling into the new Toyota Tacoma truck and drove to Pennsylvania. Neeka went with my friend and dog trainer, Jamie while we were away.
We first went to the PA Renaissance festival – Huzzah! -- It was hot but bearable. We stayed at a motel, and then drove on to stay near Stroudsburg at a KOA. Our cabin was clean and had air conditioning and a bathroom. The camp grounds had an awesome pool with a fountain at one end and a spiral slide at the other, restaurant, and Dog Park, just to name a few amenities. We went to Hershey Park but left after only half the day due to excessive heat. It was 98 degrees by noon and neither myself nor Verona could take it. April and I did get to go on some awesome coasters, though and I had the best sour cherry slushie ever. The heat reminded me to ask myself, whatever possessed us to take our vacations in the dead heat of summer?Ugh. Verona was so well-behaved, staying on the porch and guiding me expertly through all the crowds, heat, and obstacles, especially at the R. Fair. I would love to get back to that KOA in the fall and bum around all the little towns in Lancaster as well as hit the outlet stores before Xmas crazies. Having ro is a true gift and every year I grow to appreciate it more and more. J
Jerry, April, Carol and Verona and I drove up to Foxwood’s resort and casino for an overnight stay. Jerry and I went to see Jethro Tull at the MGM Grand’s theater while Carol and April bummed around the hotel, mall, and casino. Someone had to stay with Verona while we attended the show. Well, not really but it was a good excuse to get the kid to come so we wouldn’t worry about leaving her at home with only Anthony, who is not a babysitter.
On September 22, Jerry and I celebrated our 20th anniversary by going to a B & B inn Greenwood Lake, Orange County, N.Y. We did some apple picking with Verona, who had to guide me off-road, so to speak. Low hanging branches, gullies, yards and yards of half rotten apples, and little kids wanting to hug her were just some of the most eventful items we negotiated. It was a lot of fun and she did so well, we let her play kill the Frisbee twice when we got back to the room near the lake.
We went to a great German restaurant called The Breezy Point Inn, which is a B & B with a huge dining hall which serves an authentic pig roast buffet. It was excellent, Jerry and I both ate way too much and rolled out of there with fond memories of everything from the schnitzel and apple strudel with vanilla ice cream to the hog’s head on the buffet’s carving table. J
In October I changed jobs and I’m now working as a family therapist for the Veterans Administration located in White Plains, N.Y. It’s been five years since graduation with my master’s degree and I’m finally where I should be in terms of my career. I am so very grateful for the folks who helped me and I’ll never forget those who mentored me to this point. God’s blessings are with me and for that I’m just a humble pie. J
What’s in store for us this year? Number one on our list would be: no more surgeries. After that, we’re happy with whatever comes along.
Love and best wishes to all in 2011!
Annie, Jerry, Anthony, April, Neeka, Verona, and the bird, hamster, and fish.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Shame, Shame on Them
I’m certain my sighted friends and family have wondered how I deal with disability discrimination when it occurs. For the most part, situations present themselves and then rectify themselves without much effort on my part once I call attention to it. Occasionally, however, a situation presents an ongoing and frustrating set of circumstances, like the one I will describe below.
Last month, after starting a new job counseling in a community based mental health clinic, it was recommended that I read a specific book. This book was provided free of charge to our clients, their families and mental health professionals at the clinic. Since I couldn’t read the book in the current format available, (printed material), I contacted the publisher and the author asking for a reasonable accommodation. Specifically, I asked if there was a chance a recorded version could be made and in the interim, perhaps I could be sent the text files of the book so I could read it with my equipment.
In short, the foundation who funded the publication of the book said no and they would not consider a recorded version due to the fact that only one other person asked for it to be recorded. The co-authors asserted that they would not agree to offer the text files as an alternative, stating “…We will not release our text files for individual use.”, which is a form of discrimination if the person asking for an alternative format can prove he/she cannot access the primary materials in the current format. A publisher must, under ADA policy, offer an alternative if one is requested
As it stands, I’ve sent the letter and don’t really know what to do next. I could let it go, but these folks need to know that refusing my request is unacceptable.
Anyway, read on and remember the last line whenever you’re faced with an uncompromising attitude.
To All Concerned;
Let me preface this by stating that I am also a writer and would not allow unauthorized individuals to exploit any of my own work. But I am not attempting to do that with my request. I’m only trying to obtain “equal” access to this particular book. I hope you can appreciate my perspective as I’ve acknowledged yours. I respect and admire the sacrifices undertaken to create and distribute this book and that is why I’m writing this letter. Your book is an essential and valuable tool for ****s, their families, and the general public and should be available to everyone, not just those with vision.
Going forward, what follows this introduction typifies the struggles I face living in a sighted world. I would ask you all to put yourself in my shoes. I am a mental health professional who happens to be blind, assisting combat ****s and their families, some of these ***s may also be blind or visually impaired. I require access to this book in order to help them. I have reached out; put my disability in the forefront in hopes of achieving the goal of finding a cooperative attitude regarding my legitimate request. Imagine my surprise when I’m informed that my request is not going to be granted even though it is the law.
But, let’s go back to my original suggestion, that providing the computer generated text files would be more accessible and most likely cost little or nothing but a few clicks on a mouse in a word processing program and one or two compact discs. If I am wrong, please tell me.
What cost or copyright risk would it be to just send a text file via email? Or burn the text based files onto a disc? I’d pay for the disc and mailing costs just like a regular print book and it would not infringe on the author’s copyright because it’s for my personal use. For proof of this, go to Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble.com and look at the eBooks just waiting for distribution. Publishers and authors alike seem to have no trouble with releasing books in alternative formats. Additionally, you would be in control of what goes on the disc, including your copyright and the ISBN number, which is your protection from unauthorized distribution of the disc. It is the same as a hard copy book, just in an electronic format.
Incidentally, what would stop a person with your hard copy book from scanning it and making copies for others? Isn’t that what you mean by limiting access to your files?
Going one step further, the entire book could be scanned saved and distributed electronically for people with print disabilities without being a copyright infringement. Just go to www.bookshare.com. What would that cost?
My next thought was, do I need to quote ADA Code and access Laws to obtain equal access to your book? Would you turn away a **** requesting the same consideration?
I think you need to think about your decisions and what they mean to someone like me.
What if I was a disabled **** who could no longer see print? Would I be unable to access your book, which, by the way, was meant for ****s and professionals assisting them? Is the fact that I am blind the single remaining factor in not being able to read your book? If the answer is yes, then that is against ADA policy and a form of discrimination.
“Sorry, we can’t do that.” Just isn’t good enough.
You see, from my line of thought, I don’t believe, even without quoting ADA law, that you can remain a barrier to my request. It would be really disappointing to know that something I know is available to only those with sight is not available to me just because I’m blind.
It’s been 20 years since the passing of the Americans with Disabilities Act and yet there is a barrier where one would least expect it. I hope you reconsider your hesitation, and, I will send you the internet links to whatever ADA documents you request about literature for the blind and physically handicapped, once I gather the information.
Sometimes the most difficult barrier isn’t a curb or a set of stairs, it’s an attitude.
Sincerely,
Ann Chiappetta
Last month, after starting a new job counseling in a community based mental health clinic, it was recommended that I read a specific book. This book was provided free of charge to our clients, their families and mental health professionals at the clinic. Since I couldn’t read the book in the current format available, (printed material), I contacted the publisher and the author asking for a reasonable accommodation. Specifically, I asked if there was a chance a recorded version could be made and in the interim, perhaps I could be sent the text files of the book so I could read it with my equipment.
In short, the foundation who funded the publication of the book said no and they would not consider a recorded version due to the fact that only one other person asked for it to be recorded. The co-authors asserted that they would not agree to offer the text files as an alternative, stating “…We will not release our text files for individual use.”, which is a form of discrimination if the person asking for an alternative format can prove he/she cannot access the primary materials in the current format. A publisher must, under ADA policy, offer an alternative if one is requested
As it stands, I’ve sent the letter and don’t really know what to do next. I could let it go, but these folks need to know that refusing my request is unacceptable.
Anyway, read on and remember the last line whenever you’re faced with an uncompromising attitude.
To All Concerned;
Let me preface this by stating that I am also a writer and would not allow unauthorized individuals to exploit any of my own work. But I am not attempting to do that with my request. I’m only trying to obtain “equal” access to this particular book. I hope you can appreciate my perspective as I’ve acknowledged yours. I respect and admire the sacrifices undertaken to create and distribute this book and that is why I’m writing this letter. Your book is an essential and valuable tool for ****s, their families, and the general public and should be available to everyone, not just those with vision.
Going forward, what follows this introduction typifies the struggles I face living in a sighted world. I would ask you all to put yourself in my shoes. I am a mental health professional who happens to be blind, assisting combat ****s and their families, some of these ***s may also be blind or visually impaired. I require access to this book in order to help them. I have reached out; put my disability in the forefront in hopes of achieving the goal of finding a cooperative attitude regarding my legitimate request. Imagine my surprise when I’m informed that my request is not going to be granted even though it is the law.
But, let’s go back to my original suggestion, that providing the computer generated text files would be more accessible and most likely cost little or nothing but a few clicks on a mouse in a word processing program and one or two compact discs. If I am wrong, please tell me.
What cost or copyright risk would it be to just send a text file via email? Or burn the text based files onto a disc? I’d pay for the disc and mailing costs just like a regular print book and it would not infringe on the author’s copyright because it’s for my personal use. For proof of this, go to Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble.com and look at the eBooks just waiting for distribution. Publishers and authors alike seem to have no trouble with releasing books in alternative formats. Additionally, you would be in control of what goes on the disc, including your copyright and the ISBN number, which is your protection from unauthorized distribution of the disc. It is the same as a hard copy book, just in an electronic format.
Incidentally, what would stop a person with your hard copy book from scanning it and making copies for others? Isn’t that what you mean by limiting access to your files?
Going one step further, the entire book could be scanned saved and distributed electronically for people with print disabilities without being a copyright infringement. Just go to www.bookshare.com. What would that cost?
My next thought was, do I need to quote ADA Code and access Laws to obtain equal access to your book? Would you turn away a **** requesting the same consideration?
I think you need to think about your decisions and what they mean to someone like me.
What if I was a disabled **** who could no longer see print? Would I be unable to access your book, which, by the way, was meant for ****s and professionals assisting them? Is the fact that I am blind the single remaining factor in not being able to read your book? If the answer is yes, then that is against ADA policy and a form of discrimination.
“Sorry, we can’t do that.” Just isn’t good enough.
You see, from my line of thought, I don’t believe, even without quoting ADA law, that you can remain a barrier to my request. It would be really disappointing to know that something I know is available to only those with sight is not available to me just because I’m blind.
It’s been 20 years since the passing of the Americans with Disabilities Act and yet there is a barrier where one would least expect it. I hope you reconsider your hesitation, and, I will send you the internet links to whatever ADA documents you request about literature for the blind and physically handicapped, once I gather the information.
Sometimes the most difficult barrier isn’t a curb or a set of stairs, it’s an attitude.
Sincerely,
Ann Chiappetta
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Short Fiction
Surprise Visitor
© 2007 By Ann Chiappetta
I helped Linda in with the last bag of clothing, placing it beside the others in the small bedroom of her new apartment. I looked around at what we’d brought in; all she had was a bed, a table, a computer, and a few boxes of personal things. I wished I had enough money to start her out the right way but I didn’t and even if I did, she probably wouldn’t want it anyway. Linda was proud and didn’t accept charity, not even from her own brother.
“Well, I got my work out for the day.” I said, wiping the sweat off with the arm of my tee shirt. The apartment was on the second floor of an eight unit brownstone in the Riverdale section of the Bronx, close to her new job. A long way from Katonah, I thought, but it was a nice enough area. Linda made the decision to move from up county because she wanted to be independent. Mom and Dad, however, tried to talk her out of it but she moved anyway, saying,
“How can I live my life when I can’t even get to work on my own?”
The truth was that our parents didn’t know how to let go, to deal with Linda’s disability. She and I talked about our parents facing the truth, that they both struggled with what it meant to have a blind daughter. Despite mom and dad’s difficulty accepting her vision loss, Linda wanted to get out on her own, just like any other college grad. She met her blindness head-on, with courage and perseverance. I wished mom and dad could do it, too, but they weren’t ready.
Linda rummaged through a box marked KITCHEN and found two cups. She rinsed them off, filled them with water,and handed one to me.
“I hear it’s the best water in New York state.” She said. Grinning.
“”Here’s to your new place, Cheers.” I replied, touching her cup with mine toasting the occasion.
“Thanks, Danny.” She said, “I couldn’t have done this all without you.”
“I would be insulted if you didn’t ask, baby sister.” I said, hugging her. “I’m so proud of you.”
I drank another cup of water, watching Linda unpack the rest of the items from the box thinking about how much she had overcome. She started losing her vision in high school, the retinal disease progressing until she was left with only a small portion of her sight. It was a long, hard road for Linda, but she walked it and now stood in her own apartment, sparsely furnished but all her own nonetheless.
I went to the nearest pizza place and brought back dinner, then went home.
I was opening the door to my apartment when my cell rang. It was Linda
“Hello?’
“Danny, you’re not going to believe this but I think there’s a bat in my bedroom.”
“A what?”
I suppressed a laugh but she must’ve heard the little bit that escaped into the phone
“Stop laughing, Danny, it’s not funny. You know how I feel about those disgusting furry things.’
I closed and locked my apartment door and headed back to my car.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, just stay out of the room and call the super.”
An hour later, we stood at the bedroom door listening to the bat flapping around, its leathery wings fluttering against the walls as if desperate to find a way out.
“Okay, Linda, I’m going to turn the light back on and hope it lands somewhere where we can find it.” I cracked the door open reached in and switched on the light.
Linda crossed her arms and shivered,
“Yuck, I will never understand your attraction to all those furry, slimy animals.”
“I got them just to torture you with them.” I teased, “Besides, I don’t see what’s so slimy about hamsters or bats. They have fur, not scales.”
“Danny, just get the darned thing out of here, okay? I’m going to make some coffee.” She went back into the kitchen, shaking her head in disgust.
I searched the room for twenty minutes but all I could find was a small hole near the radiator. It was big enough for a bat or rodent to squeeze through. I stuffed the hole with a couple of steel wool pads held in place by duct tape. The super would have to plaster the hole but my temporary seal would suffice until then. I tried looking for the bat again and finally found it in the back of the closet. I missed it before because it was only about four inches long and its grey fur blended in with the shadows. I got a towel and threw it over the bat, then I put it in an old shoe box Linda gave me earlier. I carefully poked a few holes in it for air and carried it out to the living area.
Linda was on the phone,
“… I said I’m being chased around by a bat. B-A-T. Okay, thanks, good bye.” She put away her cell phone and turned to me, “Is it in the box?”
I nodded, “Did you call someone to come get it?” I asked.
“Yes, they’re sending a patrol car.”
I almost dropped the box when the banging at the door began,
“Police, open the door.” Came a muffled bellow.
Linda froze. I went to the door and looked through the peephole. Sure enough, there was not one but four officers waiting to be let in and they looked like they meant business.
I opened the door and they rushed in, two of them covering me, one of them covering Linda and one checking the other rooms.
, “We got a call there was someone being chased with a bat.” Said the lead officer, eyeing me.
Linda and I burst out laughing. I held up the box.
“The bat’s in here.” I said, then began laughing again. The officer took the box from me and peeked inside, then he handed it back,
“Holy cow, the sergeant isn’t going to believe this.” He put away his baton and nodded to his fellow officers,
“Hay boys, you’d better come look at this.”
Ten minutes later, officer Halaran shook my hand and grinned,
“Danny, we’re going to be telling this story for months. The other three officers were still chuckling as they left.
Linda thanked them and closed the door but there was another knock. She opened it, finding the super standing there, a confused look on his face,
“Did the cops get the guy with the bat?”
© 2007 By Ann Chiappetta
I helped Linda in with the last bag of clothing, placing it beside the others in the small bedroom of her new apartment. I looked around at what we’d brought in; all she had was a bed, a table, a computer, and a few boxes of personal things. I wished I had enough money to start her out the right way but I didn’t and even if I did, she probably wouldn’t want it anyway. Linda was proud and didn’t accept charity, not even from her own brother.
“Well, I got my work out for the day.” I said, wiping the sweat off with the arm of my tee shirt. The apartment was on the second floor of an eight unit brownstone in the Riverdale section of the Bronx, close to her new job. A long way from Katonah, I thought, but it was a nice enough area. Linda made the decision to move from up county because she wanted to be independent. Mom and Dad, however, tried to talk her out of it but she moved anyway, saying,
“How can I live my life when I can’t even get to work on my own?”
The truth was that our parents didn’t know how to let go, to deal with Linda’s disability. She and I talked about our parents facing the truth, that they both struggled with what it meant to have a blind daughter. Despite mom and dad’s difficulty accepting her vision loss, Linda wanted to get out on her own, just like any other college grad. She met her blindness head-on, with courage and perseverance. I wished mom and dad could do it, too, but they weren’t ready.
Linda rummaged through a box marked KITCHEN and found two cups. She rinsed them off, filled them with water,and handed one to me.
“I hear it’s the best water in New York state.” She said. Grinning.
“”Here’s to your new place, Cheers.” I replied, touching her cup with mine toasting the occasion.
“Thanks, Danny.” She said, “I couldn’t have done this all without you.”
“I would be insulted if you didn’t ask, baby sister.” I said, hugging her. “I’m so proud of you.”
I drank another cup of water, watching Linda unpack the rest of the items from the box thinking about how much she had overcome. She started losing her vision in high school, the retinal disease progressing until she was left with only a small portion of her sight. It was a long, hard road for Linda, but she walked it and now stood in her own apartment, sparsely furnished but all her own nonetheless.
I went to the nearest pizza place and brought back dinner, then went home.
I was opening the door to my apartment when my cell rang. It was Linda
“Hello?’
“Danny, you’re not going to believe this but I think there’s a bat in my bedroom.”
“A what?”
I suppressed a laugh but she must’ve heard the little bit that escaped into the phone
“Stop laughing, Danny, it’s not funny. You know how I feel about those disgusting furry things.’
I closed and locked my apartment door and headed back to my car.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, just stay out of the room and call the super.”
An hour later, we stood at the bedroom door listening to the bat flapping around, its leathery wings fluttering against the walls as if desperate to find a way out.
“Okay, Linda, I’m going to turn the light back on and hope it lands somewhere where we can find it.” I cracked the door open reached in and switched on the light.
Linda crossed her arms and shivered,
“Yuck, I will never understand your attraction to all those furry, slimy animals.”
“I got them just to torture you with them.” I teased, “Besides, I don’t see what’s so slimy about hamsters or bats. They have fur, not scales.”
“Danny, just get the darned thing out of here, okay? I’m going to make some coffee.” She went back into the kitchen, shaking her head in disgust.
I searched the room for twenty minutes but all I could find was a small hole near the radiator. It was big enough for a bat or rodent to squeeze through. I stuffed the hole with a couple of steel wool pads held in place by duct tape. The super would have to plaster the hole but my temporary seal would suffice until then. I tried looking for the bat again and finally found it in the back of the closet. I missed it before because it was only about four inches long and its grey fur blended in with the shadows. I got a towel and threw it over the bat, then I put it in an old shoe box Linda gave me earlier. I carefully poked a few holes in it for air and carried it out to the living area.
Linda was on the phone,
“… I said I’m being chased around by a bat. B-A-T. Okay, thanks, good bye.” She put away her cell phone and turned to me, “Is it in the box?”
I nodded, “Did you call someone to come get it?” I asked.
“Yes, they’re sending a patrol car.”
I almost dropped the box when the banging at the door began,
“Police, open the door.” Came a muffled bellow.
Linda froze. I went to the door and looked through the peephole. Sure enough, there was not one but four officers waiting to be let in and they looked like they meant business.
I opened the door and they rushed in, two of them covering me, one of them covering Linda and one checking the other rooms.
, “We got a call there was someone being chased with a bat.” Said the lead officer, eyeing me.
Linda and I burst out laughing. I held up the box.
“The bat’s in here.” I said, then began laughing again. The officer took the box from me and peeked inside, then he handed it back,
“Holy cow, the sergeant isn’t going to believe this.” He put away his baton and nodded to his fellow officers,
“Hay boys, you’d better come look at this.”
Ten minutes later, officer Halaran shook my hand and grinned,
“Danny, we’re going to be telling this story for months. The other three officers were still chuckling as they left.
Linda thanked them and closed the door but there was another knock. She opened it, finding the super standing there, a confused look on his face,
“Did the cops get the guy with the bat?”
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