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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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From the website: THIS SURVEY IS INTENDED ONLY FOR PERSONS LIVING WITH DISABILITIES AND CAREGIVERS AND WILL RUN UNTIL WEDNESDAY 25 SEPTEMBER 2013 On 13 October, the UN International Day for Disaster Reduction will focus on the issues surrounding some one billion of the world's people who live with disabilities and disaster risks. These persons, by-and-large, still have no significant representation in the planning and decision making processes to reduce these risks or build resilience.The International Day intends to switch on and amplify the conversation that must take place on the needs of persons with disabilities in potential disaster scenarios. Given the lack of data on disability issues generally, UNISDR is conducting this survey to ascertain the needs of persons living with disabilities and disasters. The International Day will further invite persons living with disabilities as well as society at large to get involved by expressing concerns, needs and recommendations on the International Day web page that can enhance implementation of the Hyogo Framework for Action (HFA) – the global disaster risk reduction plan that was adopted in 2005 for 10 years.  The HFA explains, describes and details what is required from all different sectors and actors to reduce disaster losses. It was developed and agreed on with governments, international agencies, disaster experts and many others. The HFA outlines five priorities for action, and offers guiding principles and practical means for achieving disaster resilience. Its goal is to substantially reduce disaster losses by 2015 by building the resilience of nations and communities to disasters.  In 2015 the HFA will complete its 10 year term. Findings from the survey and other information gathered during the observation of IDDR 13 will be used to influence the remaining two years of the Framework and as well as the post HFA consultations which began in March 2012. The goal is a post 2015 Framework that is more disability inclusive. 
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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Superstorm Sandy hit the New Jersey / New York coastlines on Monday night, October 29, 2012. Soon after, the power went out, and the situation quickly became one of life-or-death for many people with disabilities. Some areas lost power for more than two weeks. New Mobility's article is about survival in the hands of community.
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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The Afterthoughts : Ableism, Wheelchairs and Modern Society by Michele Kaplan
Quick note: I know it's been a couple of weeks since I last posted an article here. Not for the lack of wanting to. The following article explains what happened. I truly feel that no obstacle / hardship is in vain if you can turn it into a teaching moment so on that note : Ableism, Wheelchairs and Modern Society by Michele Kaplan When I first starting using a wheelchair, all of a sudden the majority of subway stations were not an option. All of a sudden, I was unable to physically enter a good 80-85% of the businesses & apartments in my neighborhood (Whether or not things were accessible once you were inside, is another story.). It became very clear to me in this society, people in wheelchairs are too often at best an afterthought. Having had the dual experience of both worlds (of those whose body conforms to the norm of mobility, and the world of those whose body does not conform to the norm, and is considered “impaired”) I understood how one's daily perspective shapes the individual's level of awareness, but why isn't there more awareness? (When a character in a wheelchair is still a novelty, what does that say? Where's the representation that would certainly help increase the awareness?) There are two supermarkets within 3 blocks of my apartment. I once had to explain to the manager in one store, when they add extra racks in the aisles (thus decreasing the aisle's width) that it often results in the aisle being too narrow for a wheelchair to get through. I actually had to take a photo of an example to show him, and we actually went to one of the aisles where he saw what I was talking about.
Now when I go, the aisles are always wide enough, but the fact that I had to educate him on this, shows that this was something that was completely new to him. Why? (Was I the only person in a wheelchair whosoever shopped there?) Why as the consumer, should I have to educate the business owner? Why aren't they educating themselves? (Because I do feel that if you are going to run a business that sells to the public, that is one your responsibilities.) But surely an industry, a business that solely caters to my demographic, such as a wheelchair rental, sales and repair company, would be more aware, right? After all, I am their customer. Without satisfied customers, they wouldn't be able to stay in business. A month ago, Betty (my motorized wheelchair) was in need of repair. The back portion of the seat (that was custom made to support my spine which is “damaged” and thus needs support) became loose and as a result was affecting my health. Initially, I wasn't concerned, but when I called to arrange an appointment to get Betty fixed, I was informed that The Scooter Store had filed for Chapter 11, and so as a result, there was now a 4-6 week waiting list for all repairs. As an alternative to waiting, they suggested I contact these 3 repair shops who were in my area. I assumed these suggestions were not just based on distance, but that these were reputable companies, so I decided to give them a go, visiting each one in person. The first one said they only repaired wheelchairs that were purchased from them. The second one kept trying to sell me all these extra things that I did not need. You'll need new arm rests, headrest, footrest, a new battery and etc. Keep in mind, they hadn't even evaluated the chair (and the chair was not behaving in a way that suggested that any of these parts were in anyway in need of repair let alone needing to be replaced). Meanwhile I just needed them to tighten the screws so the seat would no longer be loose (for that is how it was successfully fixed it in the past.) They then refused to fix my chair unless I paid them 100 dollars out of pocket (even though this was covered by my insurance.) The last repair store, I was unable to visit because the entrance was not wheelchair accessible. Let that soak in. By this point, 2 weeks had passed and it had become a vicious cycle. The loose part of my chair resulted in the lack of proper spine support, which was taking a toll on my body and thus made it harder to physically sit up let alone sit up and type on the computer to find other places that would fix the chair. A friend of mine suggested I give the company she uses a go and so I did. Things seemed to be finally falling into place. They would fix the chair on Thursday (in my home), and I would be all set to march (roll) on Sunday with Occupy Wall Street (and The Free Bradley Manning Group) in the NYC Pride Parade, which seemed like a perfect happy ending to this story. Unfortunately, I never made it to the parade. The repair person arrived at my apartment, refused to even evaluate the chair, and took it back to Long Island for repairs. I was left with a highly unreliable loaner chair and for the next 5 days, I could travel at best, 3 blocks and back because the panel that showed how much power you had left would jump back and forth so you never really knew when the chair would stall. (and it's not like there is an AAA for wheelchairs. You stall. You're screwed.) The funny thing is, giving people a loaner chair was not standard. This was something I had to advocate and insist on. Apparently, the company that caters to my demographic saw nothing wrong with not being able to leave your apartment (or in some instances get around your apartment) for 5 days. Apparently, the ability to do so is just silly and unnecessary. I mean, what human needs to leave their apartment, right? Ha ha ha. I was frustrated not just because I had to miss the parade, not just because I was very socially isolated as a result of not being able to travel, not just that I had to deal with this incompetent system that has a direct negative impact on my health and freedom, I was pissed off because this was considered an acceptable level of treatment for people in wheelchairs. “Drama and Loaner [Chairs] go hand in hand” one friend (who uses a wheelchair) said, and others agreed. This was the norm. Why? If I were to rent a car, it may not be pretty (and trust me, I'm not asking for pretty) but it would be reliable. That would be standard. And that's just a car. You can leave your apartment without a car. This is a wheelchair. This is a person's legs. It's the way people come up to me and say “You're such a pretty girl” and then looks down at the chair “What happened?”. It's the way I was once told (while fighting the MTA to make their wheelchair accessible subway platforms consistently safe and actually wheelchair accessible) that it's written in the ADA Law that if a repair/adjustment is too expensive, the MTA can get out of doing it. It's the way (as Leslie stated in her previous article) “When Mayor Bloomberg cut off the electricity and water [during Hurricane Sandy] to “encourage" people to evacuate The Projects, [the result was] low income, disabled people trapped in their buildings.“ We are at best an afterthought. Our lives are not viewed as being of (equal) value. I once went to a Marxist Socialist lecture (just to hear different views), and the whole time I kept hearing about the importance of the worker. The revolution will be led by the workers. So I asked, “Well, what if you can't work?” How do you then fit into the grand scheme of “the revolution”? And it was explained to me that Karl Marx felt that everyone has something to contribute. It's only capitalism that defines “contribution” in such a narrow fashion. That says if you can't contribute in a way that fits within these narrow margins, then you are of lesser or no value to society. Was Karl Marx on point (in regard to his views of contribution, value and capitalism)? And if not why does our society place varying values on different groups of people and how do we determine “value”?
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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After The Storm Part 4 by Michele Kaplan: We Interupt This Article Series To Bring You...
So, the Occupy Gravesend Kitchen was born (and if you wish to read how it got to that point here is: part 1, part 2 and part 3 of this series.) How was it done? What was the response to this one woman kitchen (on wheels)? I present for your viewing pleasure, the documentary (in full), Small Kitchen, Big Impact: Accessibility, Eating Green & The Relief Efforts. Note: The documentary is about 68 minutes long. There may be a small pause between parts as youtube moves from one section to another. Be patient as it will load. If you find that youtube has skipped a section, click here.
(Side note: I do apologize for the gap between Part 3 and Part 4. There will be more articles to come! Stay tuned. Any thoughts, questions, and feedback regarding the documentary can be sent to: OccupyGravesendKitchen @ Riseup.net (but without the spaces).
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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New Jersey has received about $6 billion in federal aid from various federal agencies in the 250 days since Hurricane Sandy swept through the state -- that's just13 cents for every dollar promised.
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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Some Notes on Trauma and Disaster
By Leslie Freeman
I am writing this as I wait to address, via Skype, an audience of state and federal disaster planners, non-profit workers, first responders, and fellow disabled people at Portlight Strategies' Getting It Right Conference on Shelter and Transportation Accessibility.  I wish that I were at the conference in person, along with Unfiltered collaborators Syd London, Millie Gonzalez, and Milagros Franco. I am with them, and with all of the Unfiltered community, at heart and in spirit, but the physical absence aches.
When we first embarked on Unfiltered, my idea was for Syd London to document my traveling experience, with my PA and my crip sister Michelle Mantione, to the Portlight conference.  Syd's goal became to document a bunch of us crips together, to illustrate our access issues and connect them to the access and transportation failures that we experienced during Superstorm Sandy and hoped to prevent in future disaster responses. The project grew into something much broader and more far-reaching thanks to this collaboration, of which I am honored to remain a part.  Ironically, some of the same obstacles that I had encountered, and internalized, during the Sandy evacuation of my Zone A neighborhood in Coney Island ultimately prevented me from joining Syd and my crip family at the conference in Atlanta. I want to name these and related obstacles here, in order to raise awareness of the similar obstacles faced by thousands of other New Yorkers, including returned veterans and survivors of domestic violence and hate crimes, who live with post-traumatic injuries. 
Let me be clear: It is no small thing, to name the ways that trauma shapes our responses to disasters like Sandy. At the time of the storm, the population in and around the Projects on Coney Island included people who experience complex PTSD caused by wars, incarceration, intimate partner violence, and/or crime. When Mayor Bloomberg cut off the electricity and water to "encourage" people to evacuate the Projects, not only were low income, disabled people trapped in their buildings, but many were triggered by the isolation and confinement. Sirens and bullhorns patrolling our streets, ordering evacuation, surely compounded those triggers and further trapped folks with post-traumatic impairments. On Coney Island, at the far end of public transit service in Brooklyn, people trapped in their buildings were cut off for days from delivery of food or medication. Some people with cognitive, processing, and/or psychological impairments--people  like me, with PTSD, with brain injury--as well as people with dementia, with cognitive delay--became ill due to *confusion* and panic.
Door-to-door checks, in the days immediately following the storm, by grassroots organizations and volunteers saved lives. Kind folks from the Occupy movement and its offshoots, already familiar with flexible, needs-based strategies, were often willing to listen to survivors who had been trapped, and confused or panicked. They listened through survivors' struggles to communicate clearly or in what, under ordinary circumstances, might be understood as a socially appropriate manner. This patient flexibility was not always the case with grassroots volunteers, but was almost never the case in dealings between poor, disabled survivors and FEMA or the Red Cross, unless the agency workers had already been exposed to community-based methods and successes. 
Though I was not, by the grace of  good friends, one of the people trapped on Coney, I struggled similarly to navigate the aftermath and displacement. As I noted in my previous blog post, I take pride and find beauty in my visible, physical disabilities. I see my scarred body as unique, and rarely either limited or limiting. I recognize, and use to the fullest extent, my mobility privilege, walking or easily taking public transit everywhere I need to go. I also work my literacy and speech privileges  overtime! But I labour to accept my cognitive and mental health differences, in part because I acquired these impairments more recently  in a context of repeated assault; and in part because of the difficulties with awareness and communication that they present even among my closest friends. I've internalized shame about how much of my own and others' time and energy it can take for me to process and sequence information, much less to process and appropriately respond to complex situations.
As long as I am in a low-stress environment, with support for self-care such as food, rest, meditation, and medication, I'm fine. Perhaps a little forgetful. Easily overstimulated and overwhelmed and hypersensitive. Sometimes, especially when I'm tired, I misplace familiar things in odd ways: my laptop recently went in the fridge! I get lost, even with GPS on my phone and maps. (Okay, I've lost six phones in the past year.)  But add major stressors and subtract basic care… Imagine it this way: Have you ever been at a party, gone from buzzed to drunk too fast, couldn't seem to get your bearings, yet you had to somehow stumble home? Do you remember how you felt when you finally found yourself at home, not entirely sure how you got there, your mind still slightly separate from your body? Did you try to piece together what you might have said or done along the way? That's what was like to be separated from my routine, support system, meds and other coping tools, when I was homeless, after Sandy.
Just as the caring, attentive door-to-door checks by volunteers mitigated the chaotic circumstances of disabled folks trapped in the Coney Island projects, my chosen crip family helped me get to a safe place, from which I have been able to care for myself and my kids, and to give back to my community. 
And yet--I'm not in Atlanta with my beloved cripfam because I became worried I'd be a burden to my companions. I was afraid, not without reason, that traveling with me would burn them out, unless I could afford a full time personal assistant to mange my meds and self-care regimen for the trip. It seemed too big a risk, to leave my comfort zone on our sponsors' dime. No one told me I should stay home--in fact, my crip sisters encouraged me to raise more funds for care--but I was insecure about *wasting resources*.
I'm writing this here, now, because it reminds me of the obstacles faced by disabled people in situations of displacement, without the benefit of a tight-knit crip community, often with no ties to disability pride. It reminds me of countless times when I wanted to give up in the middle of a long protocol for accessing a new service, especially recovery aide and compensation from FEMA. It reminds me of trying to parse form after form; of scrambling a temporary address and ending up, tear-streaked, in front of a suspicious cop. It reminds me of the faces of women and men I've seen, half-asleep, half-dazed, on the streets of my old neighborhood. I cannot speak for others whose responses to Superstorm Sandy have been framed by trauma and post-traumatic injuries, such as PTSD and TBI, but I seek, here, to speak to them, and in solidarity with them. I'm writing as another way to bear witness.
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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Flying the Not So Accessible Sky
with
Unfiltered: The Sandy Edition’s Crip Caravan
Photos by Syd London
© 2013
PRE-FLIGHT ACCESSIBILITY CHECKLIST
by Jamie Larson
1. Airline and Airport Research
Wheelchair size? Type?
Battery type?
Take any steps at all?
Transfer unaided?
Manual chair needed?
2. Questionnaire for Crip Caravan participants
3. Important power chair travel info via Kessler Rehab in West Orange, NJ
Ride chair to gate
DO NOT check powerchairs at the ticket counter
Special blue strap lift handles needed
Special plastic wrap needed
Photos of how to lift chair and lock battery attached to chair
Label chair in 4-5 places
4. Book tickets using an external website for travel deals. Specified seats and accessibility needs are not recorded.
5. Call reservations line to fix seating and confirm power chair plan
6. Inform the reservations representative of the airline’s wheelchair policies
7. Ask to speak to a CRO (Complaint Resolution Officer) who is trained in the disability policies.
8. Speak with the CRO for over an hour
Find seats that meet most, but not all of our group’s accessibility needs
Confirm the entire plan for power chair transportation with the CRO.
Make a list of what types of airline employees to ask for at airport
Document all of our passengers accessibility needs in the computer
9. Research TSA policies and regulations
Passengers in wheelchairs
Pat-down rights and procedures
Carrying medicine
10. Email TSA and Airline policies to all participants
11. Create step by step wheelchair plan
12. Ensure that passengers had purchased the lifting straps and plastic wrap for the powerchairs.
13. Create a Travel Packet for each Crip Caravan Passenger
2 page detailed wheelchair plan
4 pages of additional info about traveling with wheelchairs
TSA printouts on wheelchairs, pat-downs and medicine
Photo depictions of lifting straps and battery lock mechanism
4 official airline Wheelchair Identification forms to attach to each chair
Clear plastic page protectors for Wheelchair ID forms and photos
Important Contact information
1 copy for the group of “Nondiscrimination on the Basis of Disability in Air Travel” from the US Dept of Transportation
Back-up copies of all paperwork
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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The Crip Caravan's Flight & Access List
The Flight
Over the course of a week leading up to Millie F. and Millie G.'s flight to Atlanta hours were spent on the phone with Delta and TSA to ensure easy accessibility for their flight experience. Despite this, when Millie and Mille rolled up to the terminal ticket counter to check in the Delta agent was shocked and had no idea 2 people using motorized wheelchairs were booked for the flight. The Delta agent called for assistance. A short time later 6-7 men in uniforms showed up and stood around the terminal (some of them shown above), very close to us but never actually helping either Millie with the exception of 1 man in uniform.
Because the Delta agent at the ticket counter asked ticket holders to line up, despite Millie F. and Millie G. letting  Delta know we needed assistance or more time, Millie Franco was forced to transfer from her chair into the airport wheelchair in front of angry passengers. We were told other passengers wouldn't board until Millie Franco and Millie G were safely on board. Simultaneously they were rushed, offered little help and report feeling humiliated by having to transfer in front of so many people who were all waiting and watching to board the same plane.
Photos and captions by Syd London ©2013
                                                                            PRE-FLIGHT ACCESSIBILITY CHECKLIST
by Jamie Larson
1. Airline and Airport Research
Wheelchair size? Type?
Battery type?
Take any steps at all?
Transfer unaided?
Manual chair needed?
2. Questionnaire for Crip Caravan participants
3. Important power chair travel info via Kessler Rehab in West Orange, NJ
Ride chair to gate
DO NOT check powerchairs at the ticket counter
Special blue strap lift handles needed
Special plastic wrap needed
Photos of how to lift chair and lock battery attached to chair
Label chair in 4-5 places
4. Book tickets using an external website for travel deals. Specified seats and accessibility needs are not recorded.
5. Call reservations line to fix seating and confirm power chair plan
6. Inform the reservations representative of the airline’s wheelchair policies
7. Ask to speak to a CRO (Complaint Resolution Officer) who is trained in the disability policies.
8. Speak with the CRO for over an hour
Find seats that meet most, but not all of our group’s accessibility needs
Confirm the entire plan for power chair transportation with the CRO.
Make a list of what types of airline employees to ask for at airport
Document all of our passengers accessibility needs in the computer
9. Research TSA policies and regulations
Passengers in wheelchairs
Pat-down rights and procedures
Carrying medicine
10. Email TSA and Airline policies to all participants
11. Create step by step wheelchair plan
12. Ensure that passengers had purchased the lifting straps and plastic wrap for the powerchairs.
13. Create a Travel Packet for each Crip Caravan Passenger
2 page detailed wheelchair plan
4 pages of additional info about traveling with wheelchairs
TSA printouts on wheelchairs, pat-downs and medicine
Photo depictions of lifting straps and battery lock mechanism
4 official airline Wheelchair Identification forms to attach to each chair
Clear plastic page protectors for Wheelchair ID forms and photos
Important Contact information
1 copy for the group of “Nondiscrimination on the Basis of Disability in Air Travel” from the US Dept of Transportation
Back-up copies of all paperwork
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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The MTA’s Key Station Plan for Subway Accessibility
by Keith of The Weekly Nabe
"It’s one thing to read that it’s tough for wheelchair-bound persons to get around on the subway, but quite another see it visually. For that reason, I edited the Vignelli MTA map to show current accessibility and planned conversions.
Many of us take public transportation for granted, so imagine you were to wake up tomorrow disabled. Would the subway work for you? Or would you have to find an alternative?"
View the Map
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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BY TESSA BERENSON of Crains New York
"A 10-bill package aims to protect vulnerable residents, prepare city infrastructure and transportation, and improve community and small business recovery."
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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By Dan Amira of NYMAG.com
"There was a time, not so long ago, when hurricane season had little to do with New York City. Then Hurricane Irene hit in 2011, as did Hurricane Sandy in 2012, with devastating consequences. It's impossible to know if New York will find itself staring down another major storm this summer, but NOAA has already predicted that hurricane season — which officiallly began Saturday — will be unusually strong this year. "The outlook calls for a 70% chance of an above-normal season, a 25% chance of a near-normal season, and only a 5% chance of a below-normal season," a recent NOAA report warned. 
So here's the $19 billion question: Are we ready for the next Sandy?
And here's the answer: It depends, obviously, on what aspect of storm preparedness you focus on. But in general? No. Not really. "
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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"On June 11, Mayor Michael Bloomberg announced “A Stronger, More Resilient New York”, a comprehensive plan that contains actionable recommendations both for rebuilding the communities impacted by Sandy and increasing the resilience of infrastructure and buildings citywide."
-Quoted from nyc.gov
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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From the ReNew Jersey Stronger web site: With a focus on the most impacted communities throughout the state, New Jersey is offering aid through grant awards to Homeowners who were impacted by Superstorm Sandy. This website provides important information to you on federally funded programs that have been designed to assist in the repair and rebuilding of primary owner occupied residences. You may apply to both programs. They are: 
Homeowner Resettlement: This program provides a $10,000 grant award to eligible Homeowners whose primary residence was damaged by Superstorm Sandy.  This program requires you to remain in or return to Sandy impacted communities.
Homeowner Reconstruction, Rehabilitation, Elevation and Mitigation (RREM): This program provides up to $150,000 for eligible Homeowners to repair, elevate or rebuild their primary residences in the affected communities.
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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Accessibility and May Day
May 1st, 2013: On May Day I met with activist Michele Kaplan to photo document her experience as a protestor during May Day in New York City. We started the photo documentation outside her apt so I could shoot her whole trip. These 10 frames walk you through her 30 minute journey to the nearest accessible subway (assuming the elevators are working). It left me wondering what happens to Michele if she and others if and when there’s an emergency evacuation. During emergency evacuations sometimes there’s a little warning, and sometimes there isn’t… All photos by Syd London Copyright 2013 All rights reserved www.sydlondon.com
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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After The Storm : Part Three by Michele Kaplan
What if there was a relief kitchen that was wheelchair accessible? You see, up to this point, of all the volunteer locations within Occupy Sandy (which was Occupy Wall Street's relief effort related response to the Hurricane), none were. And as a result, despite wanting to get involved, I found myself isolated from the relief efforts and Occupy Movement. (see related video). But what if there was a way I could volunteer? What if I started my own relief kitchen? What if I used the kitchen in my apartment to cook relief meals for those in need? In November 2012, The Occupy Gravesend Kitchen was born. (and to see how I got to this point, for I can tell you this moment of clarity and inspiration was far from instant, kindly check out Part One and Part Two of this series.) Now, of course it wasn't that easy. A dream and idea is great, but making it a reality is a whole 'nother story. There was the issue of getting food donations. Getting the meals delivered to where they were needed. Using Social Media to get the word out to the community. How many times a week would I cook? (How many times a week with my health could I cook? After all, I am on disability. There is a reason why I was no longer working.) Could this even be done? Was I biting off more than I could chew? (Probably) Was it delusional to even try? Maybe, but there was only one way to find out. Part of me did feel a bit angry that in order to help out with the relief meals, I needed to essentially launch, organize and run my own relief kitchen, where as if I wasn't in a wheelchair – or rather, if the locations were wheelchair accessible, I could just show up at an already organized volunteer location. But at the same time, the whole thing felt kinda radical and badass. And because I was in a wheelchair and an amateur vegan "cook", it became bigger than just a matter of helping out.
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Each time I delivered a meal to an inaccessible volunteer location, it started the dialogue of wheelchair accessibility. Each time I delivered to one of the hubs, a volunteer had to meet me in the front and pick up the relief meal because I had no way of getting inside the building and this did not go unnoticed. People would say without being nudged or prompted “We really need to build a ramp here.” (And actually a group of volunteers did attempt to build their own ramp out of scraps of wood.) A lot of people who perhaps weren't so aware of inaccessibility were becoming aware and they were getting why it was important. And because I purposely insisted on cooking vegan relief meals, it also started the dialogue about the connection of how what we eat has an impact on our environment. Hurricane Sandy was being linked to climate change. The meat and dairy industry (according to a UN study) is one of the largest contributors to climate change (even trumping the automobile industry). So to cook vegan relief meals, it was fulfilling the need for relief meals without supporting the very industries that helped get us into the mess in the first place. It was addressing the bigger issue. But even bigger than that, Occupy Gravesend Kitchen ended up serving as a reminder that individuals should never underestimate our power to help out and impact the world. How was it done? What about food safety? What was the response to the vegan meals? Stay tuned for Part Four of After The Storm. Vegan AND Delicious! This was one of the relief meals prepared in the Occupy Gravesend Kitchen. To see more photos and recipes, click here.
P.S. Occupy Sandy is one the groups helping people in Oklahoma. For more information and ways you can help and get involved, please click here.
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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Intangible Sustenance
by Millie Gonzalez This blog, my first written contribution to UNFILTERED, is related to my Superstorm Sandy experience, and inspired by the recent devastation in Oklahoma. Actually, it is roused by a conversation I had with one of the most proud disabled women I have ever met and whom I have the honor of calling my friend--Jennifer Fitz-Roy. One week ago yesterday, on May 20, 2013, a deadly tornado ripped through Oklahoma. Thousands of homes and buildings were destroyed and hundreds of people injured. Others dead. While I was at work and hadn’t yet tuned in to the television that day, it didn’t take long for the reports of the tornado, along with related messages of support to those in Oklahoma, to inundate the news feeds of my various social media pages. Déjá vu. The images and sentiments reminded me of what a vital resource Facebook was for me before, during and after Superstorm Sandy. Even now, as we approach the seven-month anniversary of the storm, it remains a lifeline of sorts. Reflecting, I spent a considerable amount of time reading the posts and searching for information on folks in my online network who live in the area. Fast forward to a few days ago. My friend Jen and I were catching up at our favorite tex mex restaurant. We somehow got on the subject of the various disability groups on Facebook. She mentioned that one of the group members had recently posted how the various thoughts, prayers and images honoring the victims of these devastations were irritating and did little to help those affected. I was immediately riled up. Holding back tears, I went on a rant about how Facebook was my only connection to the outside world from the moment the power went out. Beginning a day before the storm and for 13 days thereafter, I relied on value packs of AA batteries to charge a portable phone charger so I could use my cell phone for 5 minutes at a clip. It didn’t take long to realize that the fastest way to find out what was going on outside the four walls that now served to protect my family was to log on to Facebook and read all the news and personal updates from people within and beyond my town. It was also the most efficient way to get news to all of my friends about what was happening in my little corner of the world. Perhaps most importantly, it was a much-needed, constant reminder of the unwavering support I had from people across the country. Friends, relatives, complete strangers and anonymous others offered to help. Some sent cards and basic necessities, others posted directly to my page or sent private messages. And there was no shortage of words of  strength and compassion for the East Coast, New Jersey, New York and Union Beach.   Little by little, I read them all. Every post. Every message. Every thought and every prayer. I appreciated every single one. In some ways, they have become part of my livelihood. Each one a reminder that, no matter what lies ahead, I am one in solidarity with the other victims of the storm and with the friends and strangers who were willing to lend a hand in their own way. Tag lines such as I AM JERSEY STRONG and UNION BEACH STRONG emerged alongside an overwhelming sense of community. Every gesture demonstrated a loving and caring environment of humans helping humans.  Claiming that posting messages and images of support via social media doesn't help those affected by such devastations as Superstorm Sandy, the tornado in Oklahoma or the bombings at the Boston Marathon, is like saying that when we’re sick, celebrating a birthday or have lost a loved one, the expressions of love and emotional support from our relatives and friends are for naught (as are the well wishes we receive from those online strangers whom we have come to consider part of our circle). Or that the recent influx of red equal signs that blanketed Facebook in favor of equality for the LGBT community was in vain. On the contrary... benevolence, love and compassion take on many forms, especially in times of dire need. Sure, some are less tangible than others, but none are less meaningful or generous than the rest.
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unfilteredsandy · 11 years
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After The Storm : Part Two by Michele Kaplan
The Angry Mob. That was the name of the first Occupy Wall Street event that I went to – that existed after Occupy Sandy went into effect. Once the hurricane hit and the relief efforts were in full force, the protests were few and far between. It seemed like everyone from Occupy Wall Street was immersed in the relief efforts. I wanted to be involved, but couldn't physically enter the volunteer locations as they were not wheelchair accessible. The idea of The Angry Mob protest was to bring props (fake torches and pitchforks) and storm in front of the home of Lloyd Blankfein, CEO of Goldman Sachs. And like “an angry mob” demand (peacefully) that the “monster” be held accountable for their actions. (To find out why some people in Occupy Wall Street were protesting Goldman Sachs, click here) 15 Central Park West was also the location of Occupy Goldman Sachs**. When I got there, on that cold November day, I saw a couple familiar faces but things were different. Normally, people would pretty much stay at the 'occupation'** 24/7, but since the hurricane, most people were leaving in the morning to help out with Occupy Sandy and then return by dinner time. Things were different now. [**To Occupy or the term occupation when in reference to Occupy Wall Street is when one or more persons sleeps outside – in a park or on the sidewalk – in protest of a particular situation. So for an example, if you had issue with a particular bank, then you would Occupy that bank, and basically sleep and sit in front or near the location, with signs designed to raise awareness of the issue and in protest. This was also sometimes referred to as “camping out.”  Note that occupations can vary in nature. (related video)] “Banks got bailed out, we got sold out!” chanted the small group of 6, who were freezing but remained undaunted. One week later. At this point, I was really feeling the effects of isolation, even more so than the week before. All week everyone was talking (on facebook) about their experiences in volunteering in this location and that location. Posting photos. Helping out and how rewarding that was. Don't get me wrong, I was immensely proud that Occupy Wall Street was helping out, but all the same, my frustration was growing. No matter, there was a march planned from Zuccotti Park (downtown Manhattan – near Wall Street) to Union Square (which is in between the Lower East Side and West Village.) and that would make this okay. My plan for that day was to head to 14th street. There I would visit Occupy Union Square, an information table that was set up daily, and supplied anyone who was interested with information on different causes and events that were happening that week. Before the hurricane hit, I was volunteering on a weekly basis, so I figured I'd volunteer for awhile and then meet up with everyone as the march arrived in the park, and attend the post-march rally. In fact, volunteering at Occupy Union Square would be the perfect solution to the isolation I was feeling from not being able to participate in the relief efforts. Since most people were  involved with Occupy Sandy, OUS would need people to help out. Perfect! However, when I finally arrived in Union Square (which took longer than expected due to malfunctioning station elevators), I was in near disbelief. Every year around this time, The Christmas Village Market is set up in a section of the park. This year, for some sick reason, the Christmas Village Market consumed the whole thing. I found this out the hard way when I tried to make my way through the maze of tightly packed vendors. (I felt so claustrophobic in the crowd with everyone's bags and asses in my face. I just wanted to shout out “MOVE!!!”) Occupy Union Square was essentially pushed out by The Christmas Village Market and there wasn't going to be a rally. There was no room. And apparently it was just as well. I checked facebook and it turned out a couple people decided to just hang out in Zuccotti Park, because the majority of people who RSVP'ed yes to the rally, ended up – you guessed it – volunteering at Occupy Sandy. ARGH!!!! In that moment I just wanted to scream & yet cry at the same time. Fuck this shit. Fuck ableism. Fuck barriers. Fuck obstacles. And fuck this feeling of just wanting to help out and not being able to! I was seeing all the destruction and kept thinking “how can I not get involved? How can I see that and just go 'Oh well. Nothing I can do.' but what? What could I do? This is not in my control. Or is it... Later that night, I started thinking “Well, what would you do if you had your choice?“ After all, that is one thing that Occupy is all about. If a situation doesn't fit or exist, create your own situation. “I do love to cook.” I thought to myself. “If I could volunteer, I'd cook relief meals.” And that was when it dawned on me. “What if there was a relief kitchen that was wheelchair accessible? What if I cooked from home?” To be continued …
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