Wednesday, August 16, 2017



Disabling Help: How 30 Years Later the Promise of Deinstitutionalization has resulted in Reinstitutionalization and How the Problem Can be Remedied
We felt we were part of the last civil rights movement in our efforts to include persons with developmental disabilities in the mainstream of society. We approached our work with a passion and zeal as we knew what we were doing was important and needed.
The Past:
It was thirty years ago this year, my wife and I opened the first group home for people with developmental disabilities in our community of Clarksburg, West Virginia. It was early in the deinstitutionalization movement in our state and we were excited to be part of a movement that we believed would lead people with developmental disabilities to experience richer lives: living, working and playing as a part of the community rather than segregated from society.
Money was limited but passion and creativity were not. When we met much initial resistance to having a handful of unrelated adults living in a “group home” my wife started the first “supported living” program whereby rather than transition people from group homes into their own apartments, she developed flexible supports in an individualized home setting. With this new model community resistance was minimal.
When we waited endlessly for a DRS assessment of one of housemates only to be told she could not work, we started the first supported employment program for adults with developmental disabilities in West Virginia starting with one person at a time.
Because money was so tight in order to secure additional supports for a person you needed to document the need and garner the assistance of an advocate. There had to be a compelling reason to add support and other less intrusive methods had to be attempted before additional monies could be secured. 
When the state began to secure Medicaid funding for services, the program was able to expand but the focus changed from the person to meeting the needs of the funder. My wife and I became disenchanted with the increased emphasis on paid staff and bureaucracy and we left the field to pursue other dreams.
The Present:
The current Medicaid system for delivering services for people with developmental disabilities hinders the growth and development of people being served. In a time of mandatory budget cuts, the waste of money and lives resulting from a broken system is unconscionable. It doesn’t have to be this way.
I became involved again this year in the work of supporting people with developmental disabilities in living contributing and productive lives. I was shocked to see that several of the people whom we supported with minimal support 30 years ago, now receive 24/7 staff support. The gains we had made in the early 1980’s were lost in a system operated by for profit entities implementing unnecessarily restrictive federal and state regulations resulting in a cost per person served in  24 hour a day, 7 days a week care of  $200,000 or more per person per year. What benefit other than to be “safe” does the person receive?
Not meaningful employment: The National Association of Councils on Developmental Disabilities cites the percentage of all people with developmental disabilities as unemployed at 88%. Of the remaining 12%, how many earn a living wage? How many earn subminimum wage in segregated settings?
Not contributing roles: The Medicaid Model focuses on deficits and remediation. The more that is documented as lacking in people, the more hours that can be billed. When $200,000 a year is spent to marginalize people with developmental disabilities and their support staff, wouldn’t it be possible to think of business ventures that could be implemented to get both entities off of government subsidy?
Thirty years ago there was a belief in the least restrictive environment for a person with an idea called the “dignity of risk”. Today some people are smothered with support 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and the rules make it virtually impossible for them to escape this life of disabling support. Others with greater support needs are denied services. Typically, people who are denied services live at home with family and those receiving services are supported by for-profit businesses. In several instances in order to receive services it is necessary for people to move away from their home community of family and friends.
The irony is when individuals are surrounded only by people paid to be with them they are most vulnerable. With high turnover, and a lack of permanent reciprocal relationships the service recipients are doomed to a life of loneliness, dependence, and insecurity. We all understand the necessity of family and friends in our lives and the richness that comes from our relationships.
When I questioned the need for 24/7 care for the individuals being served who slept all night, there was a list of onerous requirements needed to escape this level of care/support. No attempt had ever been made to teach people the required tasks in order to escape this level of support.
With no independent advocacy component in place there is no motivation on the agency’s part to reduce level of service provided and tremendous resistance to doing so.
When we started 30 years ago, we did everything we could think of to enable people to take as much control over their lives as possible. For example, one typical goal was to enable people to take as much control over their medication as possible. In teaching “self-medication,” we would teach people the type of medicine they used, the names, the purpose, the amount to take and develop systems to teach them how and when to take their medicine with a checklist for them to check off when the pills were taken.
Today, virtually all medicine is distributed by nurses who come to their homes at set times to distribute the pills. When I asked at a team meeting of professionals hired to support persons with developmental disabilities if a picture of each pill could be shown, I was told in order to “self-medicate” people must be able to read the names of the pills. If employers had similar restrictions on employees with a disability they would be sued for not making a reasonable accommodation. How able are you to work or play in the community, when you are stuck at home waiting for the nurse to pass her meds to you?
Thirty years ago we believed in the power of friendships between persons with developmental disabilities and non-disabled peers. One of our housemates ended up meeting a woman who worked at a parking lot on his way to catch a city bus to his “day program.” At first he'd buy pop from a machine there. Eventually a friendship developed. They began to do things together and have lived together for many years. In a sense she became the mother he never had.
Today such a possibility would be virtually impossible. In order for a nonpaid friend to spend time with a person who receives 24/7 care the friend needs to speak with a service coordinator who then gets approval at a team meeting for “natural support” which is written into the care plan. The concern of the team becomes if a nonpaid friend is with this person who is responsible if something bad happens to this person. If somehow the team approves time without staff present, the nonpaid friend must contend with the direct care staffs who are threatened by loss of hours and wages. The only person nearly as vulnerable as the service recipients is their poorly trained and low paid direct care staff.
The irony of this “safety at any cost” model is it makes the people extremely vulnerable. Without active loved ones and friends and no one independent of the agency to check on their behalf, the person is manipulated by the agency and system into a life of total dependency and external control. It does not have to be this way.
The Future: Money needs to be used to enhance the lives of people with developmental disabilities rather than keeping them disabled. Control needs to be with people with disabilities, their loved ones, and independent advocacy groups rather than for profit entities that gain from the disability of others.
I recently watched a movie which chronicled James Meredith’s journey from first student enrolled at Ole Miss and unable to attend a football game to sitting next to the President of the College at a game 30 years later. I contrasted that with the lives of people with developmental disabilities over a similar timeframe.
Sadly, while people are physically present in the community, they are being smothered by support staff and therefore they make no contribution and have no opportunity to shine. Perhaps rather than focus on what is lacking in the individual being served, it is time to demand accountability and positive outcomes from service providers. How many generations of lives will be wasted before our dream of 30 years ago is realized?

Monday, July 4, 2016

Marcella Rudick: Live to Dance

My daughter Marcie seems to have inherited and improved upon the kindness gene. She is exceptionally considerate as a daughter and as a friend. I’ve never heard her speak disparagingly of one friend to another.

Raising my daughter was easy. I never once wanted, needed, or tried to push her anywhere — except perhaps to preschool, but we won’t go there now. I simply followed her lead and reveled in the joy she provided me along the way.

When my daughter was a teenager, the dance studio she and her friends loved was in danger of closing due to the owner’s retirement. My wife and I decided to buy it to keep it open. We created a “center for the arts” that showcased dance, but also hosted a monthly artists’ gallery and occasional concerts.

Shortly after we purchased the studio but before opening, we were on vacation in Taos, New Mexico, where we heard a couple called “Acoustic Eidolon” play a guitjo, which is a 14-string, double-necked cross between a guitar and banjo, paired with the cello. The splendor of the night sky was only exceeded by the sound of their music. We moved inside to watch them in awe as Joe went from neck to neck playing his guitjo, while Hanna complemented perfectly with her cello playing.

Amazingly, they were coming east in the fall, when we were planning to open our space. They played at our first showcase. They were so good, in fact, that they became our “house band,” coming to perform whenever they traveled east. When their album Live to Dance came out, our artistic director Jamie Kinney choreographed a dance to that tune. What joy to hear them perform and watch my daughter and her friends dance to “Live to Dance.”

Like Marcie, I wish to embrace life. Unlike me, my daughter has her whole life ahead of her to dance through and embrace. Thank you, Marcie, for bringing me such joy and teaching me such exuberance.

Behind this good writer is a great editor; Mark Bloom. Learn more about Mark's talents at 


Live to Dance is an instrumental written by Joe Scott and performed by Acoustic Eidolon. I humbly recommend this music to everyone. You can see them play the song here: 



Jacob Rudick: Suffer No Fools

My son Jacob has become a sensitive man. He has depth of understanding and little patience for incongruity. Although these are admirable qualities, they did make his time in public school — and his transition to the working world — at times problematic.

Jacob is an exceptional writer. So I remember being surprised one year when he received a low grade in high school English; it was a subject he typically excelled in. When we went to speak with his teacher, I learned that the teacher required students to copy the notes off the blackboard. The teacher considered it a gift to help students raise their grades. Since my son didn’t perceive this requirement as a gift and therefore refused to copy the notes, his grade suffered.

When he started working, Jacob would initially enjoy a job until he came to understand the inconsistency between what the business professed to be and what it actually was. This process took about two months. As a result, he bounced around a lot. Thankfully, he’s now found a job for an organization that has a congruent model. I never worried about him because I knew he was grounded in his ethics.

Like my son, I’ve often experienced the disparity between vision and reality. I hope, for all our sakes, that we can live our lives where vision is reality, both personally and professionally. So I thank you, Jacob, for being true to yourself and for suffering no fools… I love you for your courage in this frightened atmosphere, as the following song explores:


Behind this good writer is a great editor; Mark Bloom. Learn more about Mark's talents at 

You Have Lived by Don McClean
You have lived such a gentle life upon this earth
That I am stunned by your sight
If I could give but a token of the love you have
Then I might not be this lonely tonight
Let them have their smug and their cool
Confined by fashion and peer
I love you for your courage in this frightened atmosphere
I love you for your courage in this frightened atmosphere
Oh, there are so few brave ones like you, need I explain?
Never wondering what to do, what to venture, what to gain
And, you have loved in a total way, from flesh to soul
You speak, without coy without pose
Your eyes can see that the emperor has lost his clothes
And what’s more, you’ll tell the whole world what he stole
Let them have their fad and their fix
Confined by fashion and peer
I love you for your courage in this frightened atmosphere
I love you for your courage in this frightened atmosphere



Beth Weegar: Yogi for Everybody

I fell in love with my wife Beth in the late 1970s when I first observed her patient, gentle manner as a “teacher/counselor” who worked with people with developmental disabilities. Many people admired her and assumed she must have great patience to do the work she did. I know now that being married to me was a much greater test of her patience. And I’m happy to report that she’s passed that test with flying colors.

After more than three decades of marriage, we’re still together, sorting out how best to love one another. My wife often knows what’s best for me before I do, and of course, I believe I know what’s best for my wife. Often, she’ll suggest something, and I’ll follow — initially as a courtesy to her, but ultimately for my own benefit.

For example, I agreed to help her lose weight by walking with her every day. She understood I’d be more motivated to help her lose weight, which she barely needed, rather than try to lose weight for myself, which I greatly needed. Many years later and 60 pounds lighter, I’ve now (mostly) embraced the habit of walking daily. Whenever I don’t maintain my daily habit, Beth knows my life is out of balance.

She has the balance gene. I still find joy in imbalance. After the joyride is over, though, I reluctantly acknowledge the benefit of finding balance and peace. In keeping with her balanced life, Beth now is trained as a yoga teacher. She wants to help others find comfort with their minds and bodies through yoga. More power to her.

So thank you, Beth. I love you, and I accept you as my personal savior. (I’d like to offer an apology to my brother-in-law Brent, who created the concept of the Weegar women as personal saviors. I stole it, but acknowledge it.)

Behind this good writer is a great editor; Mark Bloom. Learn more about Mark's talents at 


Rose in the Garden by Karla Bonoff
There’s a rose in the garden
It will bloom if you’re sure
That you pay close attention
But leave it room
I know your heart can be opened
And like the rose, it will bloom
If I pay close attention
But leave you room
Chorus
I'm not telling any lies now
I need you
To know how
I think I can see how to let you grow
I've got to let you go
That's my face in the mirror
It's sometimes you that I see
We've been here for so long now
I see your soul in me
Chorus
Cause there’s a rose in the garden
It will bloom if you’re sure
That you pay close attention
But leave it room

Rose in the Garden by Karla Bonoff




Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Alex Rudick: No Limits



Alex Rudick: No Limits

Alex Rudick, my father, dreamed of being a writer. He was 16 years old in 1929 when the stock market crashed, and when he turned 20, the unemployment rate still hovered around 25 percent. Coming of age during the Great Depression, he was told that writers starve, so he became a CPA. He provided for his immediate and extended family with his business sense. My mom referred to him as “physically handicapped” due to contracting polio as a young boy. My dad walked using braces and a cane.

As a Dr. Spock baby, I grew up believing there were no limits to what I could do. I needed to look no further than my dad to understand this to be true. I learned from watching him how to be a businessman/husband/father/brother/friend with heart. For example, I kept this letter my dad wrote to me when I was feeling bad about not getting a promotion at work. The letter typified his attitude that “everything in life turns out for the best.” He believed in working towards making it happen. He lived his life that way, and my siblings and I have embraced his attitude in the way we choose to live our lives.

“Dear Ian,
Took me a long time to fall asleep last night. It was not that I was worried about you and your future. More so because I was so mad at the injustice of it. It is so hard to understand people. You worked hard and felt an interest in the home and its residents, while another goofs off and somehow impresses someone…

In the past, I experienced a few injustices too when I was fired from jobs. My first experience was with my second job in the office of a large shirt manufacturer. I was a “lucky boy:” my salary was $8.00 per week and I was still going to school at night. In an effort to bring back prosperity, the government raised the minimum wage to $13.00. Rather than pay me the increase, I was told that next Friday was my last day. I said, “No, today was my last day.” Today was Wednesday, so I was paid only 3/5 of a week. (20 years later, they offered me the top job.)

My second firing was in the Motor Vehicle Bureau. Our job was to inspect license applications and compare them with last year’s to find discrepancies, if any. At the end of the day, our work was measured, and my work was far ahead of most others’. But the men’s room was about two blocks from my office. The state office building is very large, and so it took me time to get there and back. One day after two months on the job, I was called into the director’s office a Mrs. Harding and she told me I was taking too much time in the men’s room. She did not accept my explanation and fired me. This time, I did not worry because I was on so many civil service lists, I was sure I would get another call soon. And I did.

So all I can say is everything in life turns out for the best. Not that it is destiny, but we can make it come out so. You may feel a bit disappointed, but your usual optimism will take over, and I am sure you will find what you want…

And to change the subject: one other reason I could not fall asleep is that we play the radio in our bedroom. They are all old songs of 50 years ago, and Mom sings along with the radio… so how can I sleep?"

My dad taught me not to limit myself. In sharing his story, I write to have my dad become a published author long after his death. I too wish to live my life with no limits. Thank you, Dad.

My Dad (and I)
We are both husband, father, brother, relative, friend, businessman…
And if I could…
Live my life with the kind of love and devotion towards Beth that my dad did towards my mom…
Then I would die a happy man.
Love and nurture Jacob and Marcie in the way my dad did Sherrie, Marilynne, Rob, and I…
Then I would die a happy man.
Be the kind of brother to Sherrie, Marilynne, and Rob that my dad was to Aunt Ethel, Uncle Mikey, and Aunt Sylvia…
Then I would die a happy man.
Be the kind of relative my dad was to his family…
Then I would die a happy man.
Be the kind of friend to my friends that my dad was to his friends…
Then I would die a happy man.
Be the kind of ethical businessman my dad was in his business dealings…
Then I would die a happy man.

I dream of being the kind of man my dad was to all those he touched with his life. I feel doubly blessed to have experienced my dad’s love and have my own son and daughter to love and cherish. I dream of having lived my life without regrets…

I love you, Dad, and thank you for all you have given me.


Behind this good writer is a great editor; Mark Bloom. Learn more about Mark's talents at 
 

Why Walk When You Can Fly by Mary Chapin Carpenter
In this world, there’s a whole lot of trouble, baby
In this world, there’s a whole lot of pain
In this world, there’s a whole lot of trouble
But a whole lot of ground to gain
Why take when you could be giving
Why watch as the world goes by
It’s a hard enough life to be living
Why walk when you can fly
In this world, there’s a whole lot of sorrow
In this world, there’s a whole lot of shame
In this world, there’s a whole lot of sorrow
And a whole lotta ground to gain
When you spend your whole life wishing
Wanting and wondering why
It’s a long enough life to be living
Why walk when you can fly
In this world, there’s a whole lot of cold
In this world, there’s a whole lot of blame
In this world, you’ve a soul for a compass
And a heart for a pair of wings
There’s a star on the far horizon
Rising bright in an azure sky
For the rest of the time that you're given
Why walk when you can fly