"Get a Life!"

                                  

I was on the ground floor of our state Capitol, and it was about mid-way through our daily SingAlong over the noon hour.  I am not there every day, but someone has been  there every single weekday for well over five years now, making a stand "until Wisconsin gets better!"  We always welcome visitors, and encourage folks to join the singing, come into the center to take pictures of the beautiful high ceiling, or just pass through as they take a shortcut through the building.  It is, after all, the "people's house" and we are proud and happy to share the space each day.   More about my participation here

The man approached me, as most of them do, without really making eye contact, and I smiled as I usually do, to make him feel welcome.  Without looking up, he spit out those words we have heard all too often: "Get a life!" --- and from that moment on I totally lost my concentration and had trouble remembering the lyrics for the songs I have been singing since spring of 2011, songs I sing in the shower, songs that go through my head day and night, awake or asleep.  The words weren't coming.  I was way too preoccupied.

Oh, if you only knew!  Stop for a minute and let me tell you about my life. It is full beyond belief and I feel blessed in ways I never could have imagined.

I could tell you about my family - wonderful husband of over 50 years, grown children and foster children, who provide us with awesome grandchildren, ranging from toddlers to those in their 20's, starting out in exciting careers and living now on their own.  Soon a whole new generation of "immediate family" will be a significant part of our lives.  There is, of course, also an extended family of siblings, in-laws, cousins and others. Some we see on a regular basis, and others only occasionally, but all are special to us and provide a deep richness to our lives.

I could tell you about my friends - some I have known for over 60 years, some I know only through my many contacts on social media.  We have moved several times in our married life and always do what we can to maintain connections with the friends we have made in each location.  Our holiday mailing list has always been a long one and we love to hear from those we don't see on a regular basis.

I belong to a book club, we participate in a Senior Learning program, we travel for both fun and education,  we travel to visit family and friends, and we travel to watch our grandchildren participate in all their various activities.  Are you a sports fan?  We have watched grandsons play football at both Northwestern and Ohio State.  Should I tell you about our never-ending loyalty to the Wisconsin Badgers?  We love our life in downtown Madison within walking distance of the campus we love, the Kohl Center, Camp Randall stadium and of course Capitol Square.  Farmers Market, State Street, sporting events, culture, restaurants, educational opportunities and a newly renovated library - we have it all!

Do you have just a little more time?  I absolutely love telling people what I am doing in my retirement. Yes, I have become more aware politically (now there is an understatement!) but it's not just that.  I am a retired special educator with an intense interest in the field of autism and have established my own business as an independent contractor, now helping mostly adults who are unable to speak to find their voice through typing.  There are so many of these amazing people, and they all have a lot to say.  I won't bore you with the details, but I have written more extensively about this on my blog.  You might want to check out this posting in particular:  "Why I Do What I Do."

Sorry for being so defensive about this.  I understand that you might have made a quick judgment about the group you saw singing that day.  I can guarantee you that every single one of the participants has an interesting story to tell.  Next time, plan to stay a little while and get to know us.  Maybe even sing along.

As we say in one of my favorite songs, "We are a gentle, loving people, and we are singing for our lives."
All are welcome.

Guest Blog on Thanksgiving Day

This one is too good not to share.  Very personal reflections on a life lived well, and lots of lessons learned.  From my dear husband Paul, who makes it all possible - and worthwhile.

I’m not sure if it is Thanksgiving, or the election, or turning 80 years old, but I’m feeling like writing my feelings. (This is not at all normal for someone with 100% German genetics).

I feel good!  I feel blessed!

I feel the need to affirm the beauty and rewards of how DIVERSITY has enriched my life.  I was born and raised in a “lily white” community (Manitowoc County) that demanded residents to register any black persons who wished to stay overnight and whose childhood chants ridiculed the Irish.   I cannot remember that race was ever a topic with my parents or relatives.  I did know that Catholics were the only ones who would get to heaven (WRONG), that homosexuals were bad (WRONG), and that Case tractors and Chrysler products were better than the others! (That may have been wrong too?)   Valders  (Vikings) High School alerted me to the diversity of Norwegians.

Then came the University of Wisconsin and Madison.   The first night, a street person tried to get a dime from me.  No way!  (Could he tell I was from the farm?)   Daily, I was at the dinner table with black people and my botany lab partner dressed differently and had a red spot in the middle of her forehead!  Some of my acquaintances disliked the Jewish kids from the East Coast.   During spring break of my junior year, I spent a week in New Orleans.  I sat in a “BLACKS ONLY’ seat on the bus (because there was more room and I didn’t know it made that much difference . . . . found out  DIFFERENT!) and watched a fight break out when a black woman tried to take her son into a “WHITES ONLY” bathroom at a bus stop,   My teammate on the dairy cattle judging team was from Argentina.  His dad offered me a job when I graduated, buying dairy cattle for South America.  (That was stretching too far for me).

In 1959 I did my military duty and I trained and bunked with some black fellow officers.

Then I became a teacher in “lily white” Greenfield on the south side of Milwaukee.  One of my teacher friends talked me into joining Father Groppe and marching with the civil rights protesters into the Polish south side to promote integration.  That was a good step --- Thanks Jim Hondel.  

So that is some background.

In 1965 I married a CITY girl!  I guess I was ready for a little stretch.  Actually, she was the one that needed to be open to my farm boy ways --- and she was!  She said “yes” in spite of the fact that I told her I voted for Barry Goldwater, and she was pregnant for the next few years, so she was too busy to object.  Then she mothered our four children and slowly educated me to the need to be more open and less rigid. Who says people can’t change???

In 1973 we bought a large old farm house with 40 acres in Plymouth, and we also agreed to have more children --- just not our own.  We became the “Brandl Bunch.”   Twenty years as a licensed foster home and 11 foster  children later,  plus 2 exchange teachers (one from Mexico and one from Japan) a foreign exchange student from Switzerland,  and a variety of short term live-in guests  taught me a lot about diversity and its value to all.  

The experiences were themselves very diverse.  I remember the high school girl I brought home one night because she was afraid to go home after school (her father had found out she was pregnant and held a loaded gun to her head the night before).  Social Services wanted to hide her until she was safe.   Others children stayed for years.  I believe 13 years was the longest.  Certainly the outcomes of our parenting efforts were also very different.   I felt rewarded by the positive outcomes and saddened when some children were sent back home to unprepared parents.   I learned from each experience and I am still learning, especially from those who struggle with anxiety and depression and disability.

So how do I feel now?    I feel no hatred, or anxiety.  I feel lucky and thankful and….REWARDED!

I want to do what I can to affirm the beauty and rewards of a diverse society and express how it has enriched me.  With four wonderful children of our own and these 10 grandchildren, plus the foster children and these grandchildren, I have been blessed.  I now have grandchildren whose parents are Swiss, Russian, Tunisian, Indian, and African!   I love those who are married, single, divorced, transgender, Democrat and Republican.   When I think about my foreign friends, like Anita, Markus and Svenja, I do feel embarrassed by this last election.

I am going to try to be kinder, more caring, respectful, generous, thoughtful, and understanding than ever before in the time I have left!  LOVE is the answer!

Special Education Vouchers - IMHO

The allure is definitely there.  So many families are not satisfied with the program offered to their child with special needs.  They are told one way or another that what they are asking for is a "Cadillac" program and the best the school district can offer under present circumstances is more of a "Chevrolet."  (I have personally heard that analogy more than once!)  And they are reminded, ever so gently (or not so gently) that the public schools must educate ALL students, so if their particular child would be given all they are requesting that would certainly take services and programs away from others who are also very deserving.  Most parents are all too aware of this.  They have other children in the system, they have relatives, friends and neighbors who attend the local public schools.  They know budgets are limited. They want good programming for all students.  But they also want this particular child to receive the very best in the way of an education, with all the supports and accommodations that might be needed to make this a reality.

And then perhaps they are offered an alternative - usually in the form of legislation at the state level.  What if we give you a voucher (X amount of dollars) and let you choose whatever program would best meet your child's needs?  Choice is good, alternatives are certainly something desirable, and maybe there really is a program out there offering an attractive option.  What could possibly go wrong?

Let's say the parents visit Perfect Voucher School (PVS) and hear from the administrator that this school is staffed by teachers who really care about each and every student, class size is always kept small, and because we are not part of the public school system we have lots more flexibility in how we teach.  We are free to adapt to the needs of your child, whatever they may be.  We would love to have your child become a part of our school community. How can they refuse?  Why would anyone not jump at such an offer?

So, they take the voucher money and enroll their child in PVS at the beginning of the school year. 
And all seems to be going very well, until sometime in early October, when they are called in for a meeting with that very same administrator, who apologizes for being the bearer of bad news --- BUT it has become abundantly clear that the arrangement is just not working out.  The child is too disruptive, requires too much of the teacher's time and attention, is causing problems with other students; other parents are complaining . . . whatever; it just isn't the right place for them.  Or perhaps, as has happened all too often, sometime in the middle of the school year, PVS suddenly shuts down, usually because of financial difficulties, leaving families scrambling.

At this point, options still exist, but they are limited.  The parents can choose to homeschool their child or they can return to the public school.  The public school will be required to re-enroll the child immediately and continue with plans for that Chevrolet program.  But all those voucher dollars remain with PVS, making funding at the public school even more limited than it had been.

Here is the harsh reality:  Voucher schools operating as for-profit entities outside of the public school system really do have a lot of freedom and flexibility, but at the same time they have NO obligation at all to provide teachers who are trained to work with kids with special needs, NO obligation to follow an IEP that has been developed for a particular student, and rarely, if ever, have the services of specialists such as Occupational, Physical, or Speech/Language Therapists. 

Public schools are obligated to provide a "free and appropriate" education for all, and they are being asked to do this with less and less financial support.  If we fail to provide the resources needed, everyone suffers. 

We have traveled too far along this path already.  Expanding private school vouchers and/or offering "scholarships" to those with special needs, while at the same time starving the public schools,  would spell disaster.  I don't think I am exaggerating.

Following the Rules

I am in the process of washing and putting away my favorite jeans and capris - they're white, and it's now officially after Labor Day, so even though I love them and they go with virtually everything else I own, it's time to put them away till Memorial Day.  It's a RULE!

I have always been one to follow the rules.  Well, sometimes my heavy foot on the gas pedal gets the best of me, but much less so since the car I now drive gives me a continuous reading on the mileage I am getting from each gallon of gas.  I LOVE playing that game - and find the best results on the highway come in at around 67 mph.  In the city, it works best when I just coast, so I have become a much better driver and am usually within the rules even on this.

Teachers loved me, because I took so eagerly to classroom rules and regs and loved the rules of spelling and grammar, even diagramming sentences - it was so very orderly!   I don't remember having many rules at home, but I didn't really need them - I was born to please those in authority, and keeping Mom happy seemed a good thing to do for so many reasons.

And another thing about me - I have never taken much interest in politics or the goings-on of government officials.  I took a political science course in college, but virtually everything I heard in the lectures, or read in the assigned homework was new to me - almost like learning a foreign language.  "Liberal," "conservative," "progressive," "habeas corpus," "gerrymandering," "fascism," "corporate power"  --- just terms I memorized so I could do well on the exam.  Into my memory bank just for the semester and then forgotten.

My college years were spent on the campus of the University of Wisconsin-Madison, in the volatile 1960's - a venue known as a hotbed of socialism, followed by intense protests during the buildup to war in Viet Nam.   Some from my home town worried that I might fall into the clutches of the "commies" but I only worried about guys I knew who might be going off to fight in a foreign land, located way off somewhere on the other side of the world.   I focused mostly on my grades, with side thoughts of finding just the right man to marry.  That was how things were supposed to go, right?

So, how did I end up - some 50 years later - handcuffed and getting my mug shot taken in the presence of two not-so-friendly cops, cited for "unlawful assembly" in the state Capitol building?  And not once, but twice in just over a month!

Sometimes a person has to break the rules, take a stand, and put themselves on the line.  It took me many years to get to this point, but once there I see no turning back.  Things have gone terribly awry in my beloved home state and I have to do my small part to call attention to the problems I see.

I find it fascinating to watch as the powers-that-be keep changing the rules, without informing those of us involved just what is and is not allowed.  It reminds me of playing games with my grandkids when they are at that early age of four or five and - to them, at least - games are all about winning.  "No, Grandma, I forgot to tell you - when you use up all your cards, you can get more from the bottom of the pile."  "I don't have to pay for that property because I have landed on it twice now."  "You can't send me back, because I have only one man left."   Whatever it is, the rules are stacked against Grandma, who is, of course, always the gracious loser, trying in vain to teach lessons about the perils of cheating and that it's not about winning, but all about how you play the game. Ha!  So much for that one, Grandma!

Since March, 2011, every single weekday over the noon hour, a loosely connected group of people have been gathering in the rotunda of the state Capitol building in Madison, Wisconsin, singing songs of protest, songs for peace and justice, with lyrics cleverly rewritten from those songs we loved back in the days of anti-war or pro-civil rights days.

Our governor, Scott Walker, along with his Department of Administration and the Capitol police force tolerated our presence for a little over two years, with an occasional threat to have us removed and an occasional arrest for "disorderly conduct," or "obstruction" maybe.  Then things started getting really weird.  It became an arrestable offense to write on the sidewalks outside the building with sidewalk chalk.   Holding a sign or banner might get you arrested.  Could we really be facing possible citations just for singing?  How about curious visitors who stopped by to watch and listen - certainly THEY weren't subject to arrest?  (Oh, yes, on some days they were!  Along with working media folks. veterans, firefighters, teens, seniors in their 80's, a member of the City Council, a retired school board member, and even some of our beloved "Raging Grannies!")

 Individual singers and small groups of singers tried to meet with those in authority to find out what was outlawed;  a local state legislator met in good faith on our behalf with representatives of the "other side."  They walked out of the meeting when pressed to define the rules so we could continue to sing and not risk arrest.  Representatives with ACLU training started being present as observers.

The first day of the most recent crackdown on singing came on July 24, 2013, and it continues on an almost daily basis.  Shortly after noon the Capitol Police declare that the magic number of 20 participants has been reached and an "unlawful assembly" exists.  Anyone who does not "disperse" is subject to arrest.  In their minds, the most recent revision of the rules - "emergency" rules, as they are called - requires a permit for any group wishing to use the building. (Original cut-off number was a group of four; after a federal judge issued a temporary injunction on this matter, the number jumped to 20).   Without that permit, they claim to have the right to declare an event "unlawful" and start making arrests.  For many, many reasons, the singers say no permit is needed and the fight is on!  {More on why we sing, and why the idea of a permit is such a sticking point - here}

I was arrested on that first day, and again on August 28, when we remembered the March on Washington and Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech, which took place 50 years ago. How ironic that I found myself being cuffed and processed once again.

But I have a dream too, and it has a lot to do with compassion, fairness, and justice for all.  What is happening here in Wisconsin is frightening.  For the sake of my grandchildren, I have to break some of the rules so that their future is a more hopeful one, so the country they live in doesn't lose its way completely.  I don't like telling them how we are being treated by the police - who should be there to maintain peace and safety, not coldly singling out individual singers (or observers!) for arrest.  I don't like the fear I now feel whenever I see an officer in uniform.  I don't like the thought of court appearances and possible fines or legal costs.  But I love the people I have met at the daily Sing-Along, and I love the joyful act of singing.  It's been good for my soul.
                                                           

When you believe in something so strongly, and when you see wrongs being done, sometimes a person has no choice but to stand firm and keep singing!

Missing in Action

It's officially Autism Awareness Month and I am determined to blog more regularly, and stick to the topic at hand. But first, I must explain my absence - from this blog and from just about every other important task that I have neglected for about six weeks now!

Living in Madison, Wisconsin (since 2004) has been a very positive experience, full of stimulating, exciting opportunities. And then sometimes it gets even more so. I will try to keep this as concise and nonpolitical as I can. It won't be easy.

Our newly elected governor, Scott Walker, has launched some very controversial budget proposals in an effort to regain some fiscal control. Starting back on Monday, February 14, a group of teaching assistants from the University have been doing everything within their power to call attention to some of the possible problems associated with these proposals. On that particular day, there was a march up State Street, from campus to Capitol, to deliver piles of valentines to the governor, saying "We (HEART) Governor Walker." They were trying to get his attention in a "nice" way. And I am trying so hard here to be "nice" myself - How am I doing?

Things moved rapidly from there and very soon the entire Capitol building had been taken over by the people of the state, drumming, chanting, singing, and shouting to be heard. A very brave group of 14 Democratic senators fled the state and stayed away long enough for the rest of us to catch up on what was happening and learn just what was included in the budget "repair" bill being proposed. Police and fire department members showed their support. Farmers drove their tractors to Madison and then around the Capitol square. Diverse groups of union members (and those who support them), disability advocates, families from all over the state and people of all ages have banded together to make a statement with regard to the drastic cuts facing our state.

I live just six short blocks (but it IS uphill part of the way!) from the Capitol and being the very curious person I have always been - plus the political junkie I have become in my retirement - I have been a regular visitor, checking out the action several times each week. I have been there among tens of thousands of demonstrators, and was there early one morning when only a few people were silently meditating on the floor of the rotunda. I have been there with two of my grandkids. I have been there when the doors were open to all, when the doors were locked to everyone, and most recently when one or two doors are open to the public and everyone is required to go through a metal detector, empty pockets, even get "wanded" if there's any question about what's setting off the alarms.

I will be heading there soon to join a dedicated group of people who are singing daily in the rotunda - an inspiring repertoire of union songs, protest songs (from way back in the 60's. I love it!!)and specially adapted lyrics to fit the current situation. Because it is spring, the demonstrators are now joined regularly by school groups on field trips and the common chant of "This is what democracy looks like" seems particularly appropriate as they visit to see how state government operates. There is no more drumming, but people use their car keys as accompaniment. Signs can no longer be taped to the walls, but they can be held in hands, propped against the pillars, or spread out on the floor for observers on upper levels to clearly see. The earlier food stations, information station, family care, first aid, sleeping bags, etc have all been banned - and I must say I miss them. It all added so much to the atmosphere. But the spirit remains, and is as strong as ever.

I will be checking on a man who is on a hunger strike. If I haven't lost track, today is Day #28 for him. He is only drinking water and taking potassium tablets, and says he is prepared to die if that's what it takes to bring this all to a halt. I first noticed him when he was on Day #10, spoke to him briefly one day last week, am following his blog, and cannot get him out of my mind.

In the early days, it was the drumming that stayed with me day and night (and not just when I was actually present at the Capitol - I heard and felt it as I fell asleep at night and when I awoke in the morning). Then it was the singing that stayed with me, and now it's concern for Matt's well-being. As passionate as I have become over the various issues we are dealing with, I don't want him to die. I don't want him to go on with this. And yet, I have the deepest respect and admiration for the courage he is showing and the statement he is making.

Tomorrow - back to Autism!