Severe stutter affects Jamaican man's U.S. asylum case

From The AP:

PHILADELPHIA — Derrick Cotterel (pictured) was a farmworker who came to the United States from Jamaica, picking citrus in Florida and apples in West Virginia for 10 years, before a pay dispute with a landscaping employer led to his arrest last year on robbery charges.

Given his long-expired visa, the arrest landed Cotterel in immigration custody in York, Pa. But judges there struggled for nearly a year to understand his request for political asylum.

Cotterel, 42, speaks a Jamaican patois, or Creole, that might alone be difficult for Americans to grasp. But his speech is further compromised by a severe stutter that makes him nearly impossible to understand.

Nor can he read or write. So many of his thoughts remain trapped inside of him.

"Me can, me can, me can ... " Cotterel once stammered to an immigration judge charged with deciding his case. "I said me can't say what (indiscernible). Please, sir, I say I can't tell you what I want to tell you about."

Unlike criminal defendants, immigration detainees like Cotterel have no right to free counsel. So Cotterel sat in the York County Prison, where about 700 detained immigrants are housed with 1,700 convicted or suspected criminals, from July 2010 until May while frustrated judges continued his bail and asylum hearings.

One judge tried to toss him only yes-or-no questions about his political asylum claim, and asked Cotterel to raise his left or right hand, depending on his response.

On May 18, Judge Andrew Arthur tried another tack. He asked two fellow inmates from Jamaica to translate. That worked to a point, though Arthur was not always sure whose answer was being relayed to him.

One inmate-translator told the judge that police had failed to investigate the killing of Cotterel's brother "because of the political activity."

"Did he say that or did you say that?" Arthur asked.

York immigration lawyer Craig R. Shagin is frequently asked to take cases pro bono, but can only take a few, and chooses those he thinks have merit. He recently agreed to help Cotterel — who lost his asylum bid — with his appeal. He believes his client could be killed if he returns to Jamaica.

"These types of cases, you basically have death-penalty consequences while employing traffic-court procedures. It's very frightening," Shagin said.

Immigrants have every right to hire counsel or find pro bono lawyers to take their cases, noted spokeswoman Elaine Komis of the U.S. Executive Office for Immigration Review. And immigrant aid groups get government funding to inform detainees of their rights.

But few have the money to hire lawyers, and there are a finite number of immigration lawyers near York, which is two hours west of Philadelphia. So 84 percent of detained immigrants go it alone, according to Angela Eveler, director of the Pennsylvania Immigration Resource Center in York.

"The need for legal services in the immigration detention system far outweighs the capacity of nonprofit legal services organizations. It has become a legal and humanitarian crisis," Eveler said.

Judge Arthur, who presided over most of Cotterel's hearings, had called the American Civil Liberties Union on May 10 — as he delayed another hearing — to ask them to represent him.

The ACLU has a single immigration lawyer in York, Valerie Burch, who works out of her home. The ACLU agreed to file a friend-of-the-court brief that argues for the government to provide lawyers to disabled immigrants, based on fairness and disability law. The group has a similar class-action lawsuit pending in California that seeks to guarantee lawyers for mentally ill immigrants.

In Cotterel's case, they also want the government to provide a speech professional to determine whether an electronic device or other tools could help him communicate to the court.

"Mr. Cotterel found himself ordered removed from the United States at a hearing that he could not meaningfully participate in," the ACLU wrote.

Cotterel, a brawny man, has supported himself mostly as a farmer and fisherman — jobs that don't require communication skills. In Jamaica, he lived with his brother for a time, until the brother was killed.

"He told me he never gotten government benefits. He has always supported himself," Burch said. "He takes great pride in that."

After exhausting exchanges between Cotterel, Arthur and the two inmate-translators on May 18, Cotterel disclosed that two brothers had been killed in what he deemed politically fueled violence. His family belonged to the Peoples' National Party, and one brother handed out government contracts, he said.

Cotterel said he himself was injured and scarred in a 1998 machete attack. He said he fears being killed.

The Immigration and Customs Enforcement lawyer, Jeffrey T. Bubier, was sympathetic, according to a hearing transcript.

"If I was him, I would be afraid of going back to Jamaica too, but I don't think he's established that more likely than not he's going to be persecuted on account of any political opinions," Bubier argued, citing the standard for asylum relief. "And (he) certainly hasn't established that the government of Jamaica is going to torture him."

Arthur concluded that Cotterel had testified credibly. But he was unconvinced of the political violence claim, and denied the asylum bid.

However, the judge seemed unsure of whether the "translators" amounted to a proper accommodation, and agreed to certify an appeal to the Bureau of Immigration Appeals.

This past week, ICE lawyers notified Shagin that they will not oppose the motion for another asylum hearing. The Bureau of Immigration Appeals will ultimately make that call.

Arthur had set bail at $1,500, but Cotterel's friends in Martinsburg, W.Va., have so far scraped together just $900.

And now, there's another hiccup to overcome: Cotterel was recently moved to state custody in West Virginia because he missed a court date in the robbery case while he was incarcerated in York. He has no prior convictions.

According to Shagin, the case stems from an argument that ensued when the landscaper, who was also Cotterel's landlord, came to the apartment and said he wasn't going to pay him.

"You take for granted how valuable the ability to speak is until you don't have it," Shagin said. "It's particularly bad if you don't have it and you're being accused. You're unable to give your side of the story."

Cotterel has now spent 15 months behind bars.

"You can imagine how hard it is to be in a criminal prison, and having a handicap," Shagin said. "It makes you very vulnerable."

In Philadelphia, four disabled, malnourished adults found in locked basement

From The AP:

PHILADELPHIA - Authorities say four mentally disabled adults have been found locked in a Philadelphia basement suffering from malnutrition.

Officer Tanya Little says police were investigating a report of squatters in a building on Longshore Avenue on Saturday. When police arrived, she says they found three men and a woman locked in a room in the basement behind a steel door that was chained up.

Police say the victims had the mental capacity of 10-year-olds. Little says the four were taken to a hospital and listed in stable condition.

She tells The Philadelphia Inquirer that they had been living in "deplorable" conditions. It wasn't immediately clear how long they had been in the basement.

Police and other city officials are trying to determine who was responsible for their care.

In Tennessee, churches work toward better accessibility for people with disabilities

From The Tennessean:

When Paul Leichty was a Mennonite pastor, Sunday was the most stressful day of the week.

Not because Leichty had to preach and lead services. That was the easy part.

The worry was about his son, Nathan, who had Fragile X syndrome, which often made him irritable in social settings. Sometimes he’d act out in church, like the time he threw his shoe at a loud, animated pastor.

Leichty, director of the Goshen, Ind.-based Congregational Accessibility, was featured this week at a conference organized by Faith for All, a Nashville-based nonprofit that helps congregations become more accessible for people with disabilities. For many involved with the conference, that means focusing more on people and less on buildings.

Organizers want to see church members with disabilities experience the same worship as everyone else. In the past, when the word accessibility came up, churches thought about putting in wheelchair ramps or remodeling bathrooms, said Erik Carter, associate professor of special education at Vanderbilt University. He argues that instead, they should focus on how to meet spiritual needs. That starts by asking questions and making the first step in offering help, Carter said.

“The question we should pose is, ‘What could we do to help you be part of this congregation in ways that matter to you?’ ” he said. “That’s the same thing we should ask of everyone.”

Carter recently finished a study of 500 families of people with disabilities. About a third had changed congregations because their former place of worship didn’t meet their family member’s needs.

The good news, he said, is that often accessibility costs little money. And congregations can start small and build from there.

“You can do this with where you are right now if you just start one person at a time,” Carter said.

Vanessa Beasley is a Vanderbilt professor and a member of Second Presbyterian, where she attends a support group for parents of disabled children. Her son, Charlie, who is 8, has a rare condition called Grieg’s syndrome. During the worship services, Charlie goes to the children’s church program with a sixth-grader buddy named Nathan. Having another kid serve as his buddy makes Charlie feel like a normal part of the service.

“Like every other kid, he wants to fit in,” Beasley said.

She attended the conference to find ways to help Second Presbyterian better serve people with disabilities. Her family has found a community there. She wants other families to have the same experience.

“It’s been really important for me to try and make it better for people who feel they can’t go to church or go to synagogue,” she said.

Many people at the conference became interested in accessibility issues because of a family member.

That was the case for Thomas Boehm, founder of Faith for All. Boehm is a former minister and therapist who is now a doctoral student in special education at Vanderbilt. His son Seth has Down syndrome.

Boehm said making a personal connection between faith communities and disabled people is crucial. Otherwise, people might be able to get into the building but may remain spirituality isolated.

Once people make those personal connections, great things often happen, Boehm said. He believes people of all abilities can learn from each other.

Congregations of all shapes and sizes can become accessible, said Mark Pinsky, author of Amazing Gifts: Stories of Faith, Disability, and Inclusion, a forthcoming book from the Alban Institute.

Pinsky, former religion writer at the Orlando Sentinel, profiled churches that found ways to become more accessible as well as people with disabilities whose spirituality is an important part of their lives.

One story is about Lucas McCarty, a teenager with cerebral palsy from Mississippi who would often disrupt services at his family’s Episcopal church.

One day a family friend invited the teen to attend a Pentecostal service. There, he found a spiritual home.

“The kid loved it — it’s a Pentecostal church,” Pinsky said. “He falls down — no big deal. Everyone falls down. He shouts out — no big deal. That’s what everyone does.”

Kristina Brown, minister of community ministries at First Baptist Church in Murfreesboro (pictured), said becoming more accessible often doesn’t cost much money.

Four years ago, three sets of parents with disabled children approached leaders about First Baptist using the church’s gym and a classroom to run a program for their children. That program, called LEARN, now attracts about 50 families, Brown said. Some are church members, while many are not.

Brentwood Baptist Church runs one of the largest ministries for people with disabilities in Middle Tennessee. The church started offering sign language interpreters in Sunday services in the 1980s. In 1995, it hired the Rev. Brian Sims, who’d grown up with deaf parents, as pastor for a new deaf congregation. That congregation started with seven people and now draws about 140 on Sundays. The service is broadcast to about 25 other locations nationwide, where 1,400 people attend. Sims preaches using American sign language. As he signs, someone from the congregations speaks the sermon aloud. The church also runs an after-school tutoring program for deaf children.

Services are held in the Inman Deaf Chapel, which opened in 2004 and features a floating floor that allows worshippers to feel the vibrations of worship music and a sound system that can be piped directly into people’s hearing aids.

Chicago-area high school embraces inclusion for its cheerleading squad

From the Chicago Tribune. In the picture, Abby Rusin, 16, left, and Kathryn Dungan, 15, are lifted up during a football game at Wheaton Warrenville South High School.

At a recent practice at Wheaton Warrenville South High School, Abby Rusin and Kathryn Dungan clapped along to the beat of their fellow cheerleaders, beaming from the top of a small pyramid formation.

Abby and Kathryn aren't typical for high school varsity cheerleaders, and not merely because they're both sophomores. Abby, 16, has Down syndrome; Kathryn, 15, has cerebral palsy.

Many high schools, park districts and private competitive groups provide opportunities to people with special needs to be involved in cheerleading. Wheaton Warrenville South has taken the spirit of inclusion further than many schools in providing spots on the "mainstream" squad to girls with disabilities.

At this cheer practice — the day before the big homecoming game against the West Chicago Wildcats — the friendship, compassion and acceptance among all the members of the squad was apparent.

"When you see them, you can tell how much the girls appreciate Abby and Kathryn and how much Abby and Kathryn appreciate the girls," varsity cheer coach Kristina Collsen said.

Collsen said Abby and Kathryn, who had to try out for the team, participate "to the best of their abilities" in cheer activities throughout the year, including at all Tiger football games. The girls don't participate in cheerleading competitions, though they do attend them and encourage their fellow cheerleaders.

Squad mates say the school and community have embraced the girls.

"It makes us all happier," said Kelly Ruesch, 16, a junior on the cheer squad. "We make it fun for them, and they make it fun for us."

Yvonne Rusin said being on the team has helped her daughter develop stronger social skills, feel more accepted and confident and be more involved in her high school experience. Last month, for Abby's 16th birthday, her cheer teammates decorated her locker.

"The girls put (Abby) up on the top of a pyramid (at a football game) and all of the student body goes crazy, chanting her name and she thinks she is all that and a bag of chips," Rusin said, recalling how her daughter no longer cowers and shuts down in large, loud crowds. "People are more comfortable with her and she is more comfortable with them."

Rusin said the cheerleading experience provides her daughter skills that will "open her world up" to more possibilities when she's older.

Kathryn's mom, Mary Kay Dungan, also said that cheerleading has helped her daughter, who has limited communication skills, to make social connections with her peers and in the community.

"Everyone knows her. ... They tell her she is doing a great job cheerleading and stop her at the grocery store," her mother said. "She feels the connection and has the social connection in that moment."

Dungan said it is comforting to see her daughter have her "own thing" to enhance her high school experience, just as her brothers — Kathryn is a triplet whose brothers have no disabilities — have their own activities and interests.

Recently, the family had to juggle their schedules because each child had an activity at the same time.

"It was the most normal feeling we felt since they were born," Dungan said. "Every kid had their own activity. Every kid is involved and happy and successful. It was so normal, it was abnormal for us. Kathryn had a place, and when your kids have a place, it is just an amazing feeling."

Dungan is gratified to see her daughter, who also struggles with delayed motor skills planning and sensory integration, beam when it is time to put on her cheerleading uniform, fasten the bow in her hair and apply her lip gloss.

"It is just wonderful, just being with regular peers, and they support her," Dungan said. "(Abby and Kathryn) are not isolated. They are known now. These kids are welcomed, whether in a classroom, in gymnasium or sidelines at a varsity game."

Like most parents, Kathryn's still worry sometimes about what the future will hold. But just as they have her whole life, the Dungans refuse to let anyone "put her in a box." When she was in preschool, for example, they rejected an aide's suggestion that they give Kathryn a stamp with her name, rather than teach her how to write it herself.

Besides all the other benefits, the girls have formed a close friendship. Squad mates say Abby, the more outgoing of the two, looks out for Kathryn, encouraging her and keeping her engaged.

They are like "magnets ... always right next to each other," Mary Kay Dungan said. "They are just two peas in a pod."

Denied veterans benefits over same-sex marriage, disabled ex-sailor challenges law

From The NY Times:

In what experts say is the first case of its kind, a disabled Navy veteran from Connecticut is challenging the constitutionality of two federal laws that define marriage as being between opposite-sex partners, saying the government denied her veterans benefits because she is married to a woman.

The former sailor, Carmen Cardona of Norwich, (pictured) married her partner in Connecticut last year. But when she applied for an increase in her monthly disability compensation because she was newly married, the Department of Veterans Affairs regional office in Hartford rejected her application, citing a federal statute that defines a spouse as “a person of the opposite sex.”

In a case to be filed before the Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims, a special federal court in Washington that handles disputes over veterans benefits, Ms. Cardona’s legal team from the Veterans Legal Services Clinic at Yale Law School will argue that the government’s definition violates her Fifth Amendment right to due process. The lawyers intend to file their notice to appeal on Thursday.

But the legal team, which includes law student interns, says it will also challenge the constitutionality of the Defense of Marriage Act, the 1996 law that prohibits the federal government from recognizing same-sex marriages.

Though the constitutionality of the marriage act has been challenged in federal courts around the country, experts said this would be the first time a plaintiff had tried to use the veterans court of appeals to attack the law.

Michael Allen, a professor of constitutional and veterans law at Stetson University College of Law in Florida, called the case part of a “cultural legal shift” in which the expansion of same-sex marriage to more states — most recently New York — and the end of the military’s ban on openly gay, lesbian and bisexual troops have opened the door to challenges against federal rules on marriage.

“These challenges are bubbling up all over the place,” Professor Allen said. “With the recognition of same-sex marriage in New York, a big state, you’ll see this more frequently.”

Advocates for gay rights say they also anticipate lawsuits challenging the federal definition of marriage to be filed by active-duty troops in same-sex marriages who have been denied benefits granted to heterosexual married couples, like military health care, housing and commissary rights for spouses.

The case poses a possible conundrum for the Obama administration. In February, President Obama directed the Department of Justice to stop defending the Defense of Marriage Act against lawsuits challenging its constitutionality.

But cases before the Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims are generally argued by lawyers from the Department of Veterans Affairs — and some veterans lawyers said it was possible the department might try to chart a different legal course.

“If an appeal is filed, V.A. lawyers will analyze the legal arguments made by the appellant and respond appropriately in its briefs,” said Josh Taylor, a spokesman for the Department of Veterans Affairs.

Yet even if the department chooses not to defend the laws against Ms. Cardona’s challenge, it is possible that lawyers hired by the House speaker, John A. Boehner of Ohio, to defend constitutional challenges against the Defense of Marriage Act will handle the case.

And even if no government lawyer defends the laws, the Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims could still rule against Ms. Cardona. The court consists mainly of judges — most of them former military officers — appointed by President George W. Bush.

If Ms. Cardona loses her appeal, she can take her case to the Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit and, ultimately, the Supreme Court.

The Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims was created in 1988 to provide an independent judicial body to hear disputes between veterans and the government.

Previously, veterans who felt they had been unfairly denied disability compensation or other benefits by the Veterans Administration, as it was known then, had to appeal their cases to a board that itself was part of the department.

The Court of Appeals, like other federal courts, has the power to rule federal laws unconstitutional. But it typically tries to avoid making sweeping rules, experts said, preferring instead to find narrowly tailored resolutions to legal battles.

Still, even a narrow legal decision in Ms. Cardona’s case could set an important precedent for other same-sex couples seeking veterans benefits.

Ms. Cardona, 45, served in the Navy for 18 years, 12 on active duty and 6 in the Reserves. She received an honorable discharge in 2000 at the rank of petty officer second class, and went to work as a correctional officer for the State of Connecticut.

The Department of Veterans Affairs has rated her 80 percent disabled because of carpal tunnel syndrome in both her hands, for which she receives a monthly disability check. More severely disabled veterans with dependent spouses, children or parents are eligible for supplements to their disability checks.

But after she wed her partner of nine years in 2010, the department rejected her petition for a spousal increase in her benefit because her wife was of the same sex.

In an appeal to the Board of Veterans Appeals, the department’s administrative panel for resolving disputes, Ms. Cardona argued that federal laws and regulations had unconstitutionally used sexual orientation to deny her valuable property.

In its ruling, the board said it did not have the authority to reverse the law.

But the board also said it “is sympathetic to the arguments advanced by the veteran, especially in light of her honorable service.”

“I was in disbelief when I was rejected,” Ms. Cardona said in a telephone interview. “I served my country for so many years.”

Ms. Cardona said she made her initial request for spousal benefits on the advice of a counselor from a veterans organization, and not because she was trying to make a larger legal point.

But in her case before the Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims, Ms. Cardona says the issue has gone beyond money.

“I just want to put it out to the public for people like me,” she said. “We worked hard for our country, we should be able to receive the same benefits as heterosexuals.”

Football coach at Chicago's Fenger High charged after players attack disabled teen at his home

From the NY Daily News:

A Chicago high school football coach watched as more than a dozen of his players viciously attacked a disabled teen on his front lawn in front of his mother, police said.

Fenger High School coach Cassius Chambers, 28, turned himself into police and was charged with misdemeanor simple assault, police announced Oct. 12.

The charges stem from an incident on Oct. 1 when cops say some 20 to 30 football players rolled up in two cars and jumped Darion Jones, 16, (pictured) and a pal outside the teen's home on Chicago's southside.

One of the players had accused Jones of stealing his Nike flip-flops, Jones' mother told Chicago's NBC affiliate.

Chambers and one of his assistants, Roscoe Pitts, watched the mêlée, but did nothing to stop it, the Chicago Sun-Times reported.

Pitts has not been arrested.

Jones' prosthetic eye was damaged in the brutal beatdown. He also had a tooth knocked out, his mother, Patricia Thurmond-Jones, told NBC.

A 17-year-old boy was arrested and charged as a juvenile with misdemeanor battery the day after the attack, cops said.

Chambers and Pitts have been suspended from their coaching jobs, according to local reports.

Fenger gained national attention in 2009 after Derrion Albert, 16, was beaten to death in a violent gang fight near the school. The attack was captured on a gruesome amateur video.

Customized assistive devices for people with spinal cord injuries being developed

From ScienceDaily:

The first active orthosis prototype, developed at the UPC, assists muscles affected by incomplete spinal cord injury.

A team from the Department of Mechanical Engineering and the Biomedical Engineering Research Centre (CREB) of the Universitat Politècnica de Catalunya. BarcelonaTech (UPC) has developed an active knee-ankle orthosis to assist gait in people with incomplete spinal cord injury. The project is being carried out in collaboration with the University of A Coruña and the University of Extremadura.

The aim of the project is to design customised assistive devices for each individual case of spinal cord injury. Customisation will improve patient autonomy and facilitate adaptation to the device. It is hoped that the orthosis will improve quality of life for users, save money, and cut the time it takes to acquire the final product.

The first device developed within the framework of the project is an active knee-ankle orthosis. The prototype orthosis was designed and built at the Biomechanics Laboratory of the Barcelona School of Industrial Engineering (ETSEIB), where researchers analyse the dynamics of the human gait and use the results to design body-worn devices that support movement in people with incomplete spinal cord injuries. "The patients these devices are aimed at have limited control over the movement of their knee and ankle joints," says Josep Maria Font, the UPC researcher responsible for designing the first prototype.

The Biomechanics Laboratory is equipped with an optical system consisting of 12 cameras that measure and capture the movement of the human body while a subject is walking. The system simultaneously measures foot-ground contact force by means of force plates which contain four triaxial force sensors. An electromyography (EMG) system is also used to record muscle activity.

The team involved in the project (made up of professionals in engineering, medicine and orthopaedics) is also developing a computer simulation that will make it possible, based on gait analysis and modelling of the human body, to predict how a person with a spinal cord injury will move when wearing the orthosis. With this information it will be possible to design customised assistive devices for each patient. "The simulation ensures that the orthosis, once it's made, is as good a match as possible for the end user. It also saves money because it's no longer necessary to go through a trial-and-error process using real components."

Active orthosis

One of the novel features of this active orthotic device is the mechanical design of the knee joint (developed at the UPC), which incorporates two independent systems for activating and locking the joint. Thanks to this feature, the device provides better support at different stages of the gait cycle than systems currently on the market.

The devices most widely used at present are passive orthoses and exoskeletons. Passive orthoses do not provide external assistance for the movement of the knee. Exoskeletons work with the entire leg and incorporate six actuators for the hip, knee and ankle joints, which makes the system cumbersome and expensive. Moreover, exoskeleton systems, generally designed for paraplegics, are not ideal for individuals affected by incomplete spinal cord injuries, who do not suffer from complete paralysis.

The system developed at the UPC incorporates technology midway between robotics and orthopaedics. The result is a lightweight device that is more economical than other alternatives. Another novel feature is reduced energy consumption, which translates into greater autonomy. This is achieved by using a mechanical knee locking system rather than an electrical system of the type used in other orthoses and exoskeletons currently available.

Now that the active orthosis prototype has been built by the UPC team, a group at the University of Extremadura's Department of Mechanical, Energy and Materials Engineering will continue the project. Their role is to design and install the electronic system that controls the movement of the device. The motor, located to the side of the knee, is activated and deactivated based on information received from two sets of sensors: plantar sensors, which detect foot-ground contact, and sensors that measure the angle of joints to determine what stage of the gait cycle the user is at. "The device is a means of assisting muscles affected by a spinal cord injury," says Josep Maria Font.

The role of the Mechanical Engineering Laboratory of the University of A Coruña, the overall coordinator of the project, is to develop a dynamic simulation program to predict how a person with a spinal cord injury will move when wearing the orthosis. The device will be tested on patients at Juan Canalejo Hospital in A Coruña, a facility linked to the university. Testing will serve to validate the simulator and wider use of the orthosis.

Biomechanics Laboratory

The Biomechanics Laboratory, which is attached to the UPC's Biomedical Engineering Research Centre and its Department of Mechanical Engineering, focuses on dynamic analysis of human gait. The facility, located in Building D of the Barcelona School of Industrial Engineering, supports the University's teaching and research activities, as well as providing services for businesses in the orthopaedics, footwear and sports sectors.

It is equipped with an OptiTrack optical motion capture system with 12 infrared cameras, which is used to measure the movement of relevant segments of the human body during the gait cycle. The system has a walkway with two force plates to measure foot-ground contact force. The laboratory was recently equipped with an 8-channel wireless electromyography (EMG) system to record muscle activity during movement.

What is a spinal cord injury?

Spinal cord injury, or myelopathy, is an alteration of the spinal cord that can result in loss of sensation and/or mobility. It can be caused by trauma due to car accidents or rupture of the intervertebral disc, or by some diseases, such as poliomyelitis, spina bifida, primary or metastatic tumours, Friedreich's ataxia, or hypertrophic osteitis of the spine.

Spinal cord injuries can be "complete" or "incomplete." A complete injury leads to loss of motor function below the injury site, while a person suffering from an incomplete injury may have some sensory function below the injury site. Those with incomplete injuries may be able to move one limb more than another. They may also have sensation in parts of the body they cannot move, or have more functionality in some parts of the body than in others.

In Columbia, Mo., ministry reaches out to deaf community

From The Columbia Missourian:

COLUMBIA, Mo. — Nearly a dozen men and women stood and performed before the congregation at Parkade Baptist Church one Sunday last month the last measures of a song of praise.

The five fingers on their left hands were spread wide. Their right hands were balled into a fist with the thumb extended. In unison, the group pressed their right hands into the palms of their left, as if stamping approval.

It was the American Sign Language motion for “amen.”

From the congregation, hundreds of hands rose into the air, shaking and wiggling in support, creating the sign for applause. The warm reception demonstrated the congregation’s acceptance of a group that is still finding its place in the community.

The silent chorus before the congregation is part of Parkade Baptist Church’s deaf ministry.

The ministry, a group seven strong on most weeks, consists of a Sunday school class called “Talking Hands” and interpreters for the church service.

There is a strong desire to grow. Plans include expanding programming events and establishing a formal choir.

Usually the small group signs from seats in the far right corner of the church, close to the front.

A formal performance is rare for the group. The one in early September was a special presentation to highlight the ministry’s mission to involve the deaf community in the church, as well as to share a different style of prayer.

Leading the group that morning was Eunice Morrow, a congregation member who began the ministry three years ago. It started as weekly sign language lessons in her home and grew from informal meetings to an established program.

“I’ve known how to sign a little bit through the years — I have a deaf sister,” Morrow said. “And I had some friends who asked me to teach them how to sign, so I did. And we just had fun with it.”

The group expanded from two to four, then disbanded for a while. With different schedules, the members of the group, quite simply, had other things to do.

Then in 2007, a woman looking to practice signing songs during Sunday services at Parkade Baptist contacted Morrow, who said she was more than happy to help.

Meetings resumed, and other church members joined the group, including several who can hear. Morrow said they enjoyed not only learning American Sign Language but also the culture of the deaf community.

Morrow began to interpret the service for the hearing members of the group, just for practice. She said it helped her become more comfortable signing, in case anyone who was deaf came to church.

“We weren’t set up for a deaf ministry," Morrow said.

Then inquiries began to surface on the Internet and over the phone. So, she went to the pastor to talk about it.

Until the interest began to build, she hadn't really considered the possibility of a deaf ministry at Parkade Baptist.

"I thought that God was doing something here. Not that we were planning on having a deaf ministry or anything, but you could just kind of see the handwriting on the wall,” Morrow said.

She discovered that other Columbia churches had disbanded their ministries for one reason or another, leaving a void she felt needed to be filled.

In 2009, she invited several members of the community who are deaf to a Thanksgiving dinner sponsored by the church. She wasn’t surprised, but rather impressed, that five people attended.

Since then, according to Morrow and other members, things began falling smoothly into place, despite the lack of similar ministries in the area as models.

“I really feel like God has laid the plan, and my prayers have always been for God to use me,” Morrow said.

“If there’s any difficulty, it’s been within myself, because this is new to me. So I just said, ‘God, if you’re wanting me to do this, I’m going to need help.’”

Christy Johnson had been among the first to join Morrow’s sign language lessons and has become one of the most active members of the ministry.

An admiration for the expressive nature of American Sign Language led her to the group initially, she said.

“If you think about how you say the words, 'it broke my heart'... it means so much more than the simple words that come out of your mouth,” Johnson said.

Since learning how to sign from Morrow, she said, God has brought people who are deaf into her life. Before joining the ministry, she had never known anyone who was deaf.

At a holiday parade Johnson and her husband attended, she discovered the woman seated next to her was deaf, and the two were able to sign a conversation.

“The thing that is so wonderful is that God placed me shoulder to shoulder, right next to this deaf person," Johnson said.

"She could have stood near any number of people who don’t know how to sign, but God placed me there.”

From the church’s hearing community, the reactions have been positive. Virginia Dooley, who signs the music portion of the morning service, said she is excited to be involved.

“It gets me in the door of another culture I might otherwise miss,” Dooley said.

Morrow and other members of the ministry are encouraged by the congregation’s acceptance of the group but say that as with any new community, there has been a bit of apprehension.

“We’ve had some reactions of people not understanding when the deaf sign the music," Johnson said.

Some congregants wonder how music can be signed if part of the audience can't hear it, Johnson said, but it's a way for them to be actively part of the service.


Morrow is hopeful that the program will grow in the next few years, as more people learn about the ministry.

It’s not unusual for programs like this to start small, she said. It takes a few years for people to feel comfortable enough get involved.

The Sunday school class "Talking Hands" is still just five or six people who meet in a space between two moveable partitions in a multipurpose room at the church. A TV playing a video of a signed sermon sits at the head of the class as a virtual teacher.

When the video ended one recent Sunday, Johnson filled in for Morrow as discussion leader. The rest of the group watched patiently as she worked slowly and deliberately to find the signs for the questions she wanted to ask.

Johnson said that whenever she communicates with members of the ministry who are deaf, they have worked with her to help her form the words. They are very understanding, she said.

“If you want to communicate, they’ll spend time with you,” Johnson said.

Rhonda Faucett, another member of the ministry, agreed.

“I see God’s love as they’re patient with us with our signing.”

Janie Bohon was in the first group that met with Morrow. She said the deaf ministry has been a great way to include the members in the worship service, social events and volunteer opportunities throughout the church.

Many in the congregation have come to realize how much the deaf community has to offer.

"They don’t have to be separate," Bohon said. "They can be part of our worship service just as much as the hearing people can.”

When Sunday school class ends each week, the group makes its way to the service, where Morrow sits in front of the pews, interpreting the sermon, prayers and announcements.

She is signing for a group that includes Mary Kistner, who comes to church with her husband, Kenneth. They regularly attend both Sunday School and the worship services.

During a brief interview before the service Morrow interpreted for them. The Kistners said they feel welcome at the church where they are encouraged to become more involved.

“We hope more deaf people come to church," Mary Kistner signed. "I think hearing people need to learn more about deaf people, and we need to teach the hearing people how to sign.”

The ministry has not only given insight into a new community for the congregation at Parkade Baptist but has also handed the church a rich opportunity to serve, Johnson said.

“We’re trying to reach out to people who wouldn’t necessarily get to hear about God.”

Disabled men at higher risk of sexual abuse than non-disabled men, study says

From Los Angeles Times Booster Shots blog:

Men with disabilities may be particularly vulnerable to sexual abuse, a study finds, and much more likely to report sexual violence over their lifetime compared with men who aren't disabled.

The statistics are part of a study released online Tuesday in the American Journal of Preventive Medicine that surveyed 25,756 men and women who were part of a regional health survey. Among the participants, about 21% had a disability.

Part of the survey focused on sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, and unwanted sexual touching and sexual exposure over the past year as well as over a lifetime. While other studies have documented sexual abuse against disabled women, less is known, the authors said, about disabled men.

About 13.9% of men who had a disability reported lifetime sexual violence, while 3.7% of men without disabilities reported the same. Among women with disabilities, 26.6% said they experienced lifetime sexual violence compared with 12.4% of women who weren't disabled.

Men who had disabilities were more likely than non-disabled men to report rape and attempted rape over their lifetime, and were as likely to report those attacks as non-disabled women. Overall, disabled men were 4.4 times more likely to report lifetime sexual violence than men who were not disabled.

The study also revealed that perpetrators of this violence weren't just intimate partners, but also strangers, acquaintances, family members and dates.

"This is particularly relevant for people with disabilities whom earlier studies have suggested are especially likely to experience abuse from caregivers and personal care and other attendants, in addition to intimate partners," said lead author Monika Mitra of the University of Massachusetts Medical School, in a news release.

In Virginia, legislation likely to address training for aides to autistic students

From The Richmond Times-Dispatch. In the picture, a video still of alleged mistreatment of a severely autistic 11-year-old boy that led to a school lawsuit.

A Henrico County delegate said Oct. 6 that he will introduce legislation requiring specific training for aides in public school divisions who are responsible for the care of autistic students, including personnel on school buses.

Del. Jimmie Massie, R-Henrico, said a similar bill last year failed after committee approval largely because of the uncertain monetary impact.

But Massie and longtime advocate for autistic children John H. Maloney of Autism Speaks said Thursday that a graphic video of the treatment of an autistic Bedford County student aboard a school bus is producing an outcry for more training.

"If the bill had passed, there would be less chance that the sort of conduct exhibited in the video would happen. But what it shows is inexcusable," Maloney said Thursday.

The Richmond Times-Dispatch reported Thursday on a $20 million injury and negligence suit filed in Lynchburg Circuit Court this week against the Bedford County School Board and the driver and a special needs aide responsible for the care of Timothy Earl Kilpatrick on his school bus.

A surveillance video aboard a bus carrying Kilpatrick to a special needs regional school in Lynchburg shows the driver and aide repeatedly hitting and kicking Kilpatrick, who is isolated in his seat by tightened harnesses on each shoulder.

The two women — driver Alice Davis Holland and aide Mary Alice Evans — were charged with felony child abuse but convicted in November 2009 of misdemeanor assault in Lynchburg Juvenile and Domestic Relations District Court as a result of the incidents in September 2009, according to court records. Both women left the school system September 30, 2009, according to a school system spokesman.

It was not clear what training the two women were provided by Bedford County; a school spokesman did not return a call Thursday asking for comment.

Current state regulations, according to the state Department of Education, require that all drivers of special needs children receive eight additional hours of "behind the wheel" training in addition to the 48 hours of classroom and behind-the-wheel training all drivers undergo.

Training is also required for drivers transporting "students with special needs." The extent to which that training deals with handling behavior issues was not immediately clear Thursday. "Until I have the curriculum in front of me, I can't say," said Charles Pyle, a spokesman for the state Department of Education.

Kilpatrick, now 14, is barely able to speak and weighed nearly 190 pounds when he was 11, his father said in an interview this week. The videos, obtained by Lynchburg police, show an aide holding a fly swatter at the ready and repeatedly striking Kilpatrick, increasing the blows as Kilpatrick tries to defend himself or strike out. He is also manually struck and kicked.

"That video shows the fear of every parent in Virginia about what happens to their autistic child when they leave home and are in school. It shows everyone's worst nightmare," Maloney said.

Massie's bill last year would have required 80 hours of training for teacher aides responsible for handling children with autism spectrum disorder, specifically in behavior-management techniques. The training would have to be completed within a specific time frame.

Massie said Thursday that he wants to make sure the proposed legislation would apply to personnel handling autistic students on school buses.

Progress reports obtained by lawyers representing Thomas E. Kilpatrick and his son show that the father had concerns about injuries to his son aboard the bus as early as November 2008. But videotapes in that time frame were not made available to the father.

"Thomas reports that he was threatened by the bus driver that she was going to hit Timothy if (Timothy) hit her again," a note prepared by Timothy Kilpatrick's case worker reads in November that year. The driver was not identified.

Paralyzed man uses mind-powered robot arm to touch

From The Associated Press:

PITTSBURGH — Giving a high-five. Rubbing his girlfriend's hand. Such ordinary acts — but a milestone for a paralyzed man.

True, a robotic arm parked next to his wheelchair did the touching, painstakingly, palm to palm. But Tim Hemmes made that arm move just by thinking about it.

Emotions surged. For the first time in the seven years since a motorcycle accident left him a quadriplegic, Hemmes was reaching out to someone — even if it was only temporary, part of a monthlong science experiment at the University of Pittsburgh.

"It wasn't my arm but it was my brain, my thoughts. I was moving something," Hemmes says. "I don't have one single word to give you what I felt at that moment. That word doesn't exist."

The Pennsylvania man is among the pioneers in an ambitious quest for thought-controlled prosthetics to give the paralyzed more independence — the ability to feed themselves, turn a doorknob, hug a loved one.

The goal is a Star Trek-like melding of mind and machine, combining what's considered the most humanlike bionic arm to date — even the fingers bend like real ones — with tiny chips implanted in the brain. Those electrodes tap into electrical signals from brain cells that command movement. Bypassing a broken spinal cord, they relay those signals to the robotic third arm.

This research is years away from commercial use, but numerous teams are investigating different methods.

At Pittsburgh, monkeys learned to feed themselves marshmallows by thinking a robot arm into motion. At Duke University, monkeys used their thoughts to move virtual arms on a computer and got feedback that let them distinguish the texture of what they "touched."

Through a project known as BrainGate and other research, a few paralyzed people outfitted with brain electrodes have used their minds to work computers, even make simple movements with prosthetic arms.

But can these neuroprosthetics ever offer the complex, rapid movements that people would need for more practical, everyday use?

"We really are at a tipping point now with this technology," says Michael McLoughlin of the Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory, which developed the humanlike arm in a $100 million project for DARPA, the Pentagon's research agency.

Pittsburgh is helping to lead a closely watched series of government-funded studies over the next two years to try to find out. A handful of quadriplegic volunteers will train their brains to operate the DARPA arm in increasingly sophisticated ways, even using sensors implanted in its fingertips to try to feel what they touch, while scientists explore which electrodes work best.

"Imagine all the joints that are in your hand. There's 20 motions around all those joints," says Pittsburgh neurobiologist Andrew Schwartz. "It's not just reaching out and crudely grasping something. We want them to be able to use the fingers we've worked so hard on."

The 30-year-old Hemmes' task was a much simpler first step. He was testing whether a new type of chip, which for safety reasons the Food and Drug Administration let stay on this initial volunteer's brain for just a month, could allow for three-dimensional arm movement.

He surprised researchers the day before the electrodes were removed. The robotic arm whirred as Hemmes' mind pushed it forward to hesitantly tap palms with a scientist. Then his girlfriend beckoned. The room abruptly hushed. Hemmes painstakingly raised the black metal hand again and slowly rubbed its palm against hers a few times.

These emotional robotic touches have inspired researchers now recruiting volunteers for soon-to-start yearlong experiments.

"It was awesome," is the decidedly unscientific description from the normally reserved Dr. Michael Boninger, rehabilitation chief at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center. "To interact with a human that way. ... This is the beginning."

___

Hemmes' journey began in 2004. He owned an auto-detailing shop and rode his motorcycle in his spare time. Then one summer evening he swerved to miss a deer. His bike struck a guardrail. His neck snapped.

His determination didn't. Paralyzed below the shoulders, he's tried other experimental procedures in hopes, so far unrealized, of regaining some arm function.

"I always tell people your legs are great ... but they just get you from here to there," Hemmes says as his caregiver waits to feed him a bite of a cheeseburger near his home in Butler, north of Pittsburgh. "Your arms and fingers and hands do everything else. I have to get those back, I absolutely have to."

His ultimate goal is to hug his 8-year-old daughter. "I'm going to do whatever it takes, as long as it takes, to do that again."

Hemmes entered an operating room at UPMC with a mix of nerves and excitement.

"It's good anxiety," he says. "There is so much riding on this."

___

Think "I want that apple," and your arm reaches out and grasps it. You're not aware that neurons are instantaneously firing in patterns that send commands down the spinal cord — make the shoulder raise the arm, extend the elbow, flex the wrist and all five fingers.

A very similar firing occurs when you imagine movement or watch the movement you'd like to perform, explains Boninger, who with Schwartz is leading the Pittsburgh research together with a team of bioengineers, neuroscientists and physicians.

The DARPA arm was developed primarily for amputees. Separate research is under way to help them move it by using transplanted nerves to sense those brain commands. The paralyzed pose a more difficult challenge: getting those signals around a broken spinal cord.

For quadriplegic patients, scientists use implanted electrodes, called a "brain-computer interface" or BCI, to record that electrical activity. The signals move down through wires that tunnel under the skin and out by the collarbone, and are plugged into a computer or a robotic arm.

Until now, researchers mostly have tested miniature electrodes that poke inside the brain's motor cortex and record from individual cells, presumably allowing for precise movements. Pittsburgh's next test-patient will have two penetrating grids implanted in different parts of the cortex for a year to record from 200 cells altogether.

In contrast, Hemmes' chip sat on the surface of his motor cortex, a less invasive method that records from groups of cells. The size of two postage stamps, it's based on a kind of electrical signal mapping used to track seizures in epilepsy patients.

Both approaches need study, says Daofen Chen of the National Institutes of Health, who oversees neurorehabilitation research. He compares the options to eavesdropping on a party by sending in individual microphones or setting up a recorder at the window.

Boninger adds that scar tissue can blunt the penetrating electrodes over time, and the surface chips may be easier to convert to a wireless system, which is important for commercial use.

___

Hemmes' operation took two hours. He had practiced imagining arm movements inside brain scanners, to see where the electrical signals concentrated. That's where neurosurgeon Elizabeth Tyler-Kabara cut, attaching the chip through an inch-wide opening on the left side of Hemmes' skull.

Two days later, Hemmes was hooked to a computer, beginning simple cursor movements. The next week, it was time to test if he could trigger real-life movement using the DARPA arm.

Hemmes reclined in his wheelchair, the robot arm bolted to a steel rod nearby. The task: make the arm reach out to grasp a ball mounted on a board.

The arm whirs forward, then stops, then goes again, then suddenly pulls back.

"It's doing the opposite of what I ask it do," Hemmes says in frustration. "When I think about reaching back, it goes forward."

Dr. Wei Wang, a member of the research team, watches Hemmes' brain patterns on a nearby computer screen, trying to match them to the robotic movements. Focus on your elbow, Wang advises.

Hemmes takes a deep breath and tries. The arm whirs forward this time, reaching the ball. The fingers clench around it.

"There's no owner's manual," Hemmes says, thrilled that the back-and-forth pays off. "I'm training my brain to figure how to do all this."

Letting go is harder, the motor growling as the arm tugs backward before the fingers fully release. Hemmes starts imagining his hand relaxing before pulling backward, and the robot hand follows.

___

Sure, a robotic hand that one day mounts to a wheelchair could be useful. But no matter how well today's prosthetics move, they've got a problem: They don't sense what they touch. Normally, instant messages flash from the skin up to the brain to say "squeeze tighter" so we don't drop that coffee cup, or "tight enough" so we don't hug too hard.

Besides, Hemmes shares the dream of many quadriplegics. He doesn't want a bionic third hand. He wants to move his own hands again.

"These are all scientific goals that are very real," Boninger says.

Recreating sensation means crafting a two-way highway with those brain chips. That's what Duke University, in a study published last week in the journal Nature, did with its two monkeys. When the animals "touched" objects on a computer screen with their video game-like arms, electrical signals flashed back up to implanted electrodes — different signals for different textures, to tell the objects apart.

Sensors in the DARPA arm's fingertips allow for that same kind of feedback. McLoughlin says the plan is for one of the Pittsburgh study patients to begin testing touch capability next year, with a similar attempt at the California Institute of Technology to follow.

What about moving paralyzed limbs? Duke's plan is to turn its research into a robotic exoskeleton that would help the paralyzed move their bodies.

Hemmes is more intrigued by what's called functional electrical stimulation, zapping muscles with electrical currents to make them move. At Hemmes' request, Boninger's team attempted to fit his hand with a stimulator glove that might be linked to his electrode, but it was unsuccessful. The NIH's Chen says still other researchers are working on that kind of approach.

___

Hemmes likened moving the DARPA arm to learning to drive a car with a manual transmission. It took practice, but by week four he was moving the arm sideways as well as back and forth.

The fingers still clenched pretty tight, though. So when his girlfriend Katie Schaffer spoke up — "I want to hold your hand," she said on his last day of testing — Hemmes didn't dare bend them.

The two met after his accident, so he'd never before reached out to her.

"I was just trying to be gentle. I didn't want to hurt her, and I finally got there," Hemmes says. "Definitely the tears were flowing."

He says he was ready for a break after almost daily scientific testing, so removing the electrode and wires the next day wasn't a disappointment. He's confident the researchers will call him back once the technology advances.

"I believe this is the future," he says. "Just let people know there's hope."

In California, a backyard cottage industry: universally designed space for aging parents

From The San Francisco Chronicle. In the picture, Billie McKig, 87, sold her large San Diego home and moved into the 540-square-foot cottage, above, her daughter built for her in the backyard of her Berkeley home.

Bay Area author and home renovation expert Michael Litchfield didn't just write a book on in-law units - he lives in one himself.

"I like the idea of shared spaces," says Litchfield, who occupies an in-law on a scenic former dairy farm above Tomales Bay. "One of the curses of our time is that we're too isolated."

Litchfield's new book, "In-Laws, Outlaws, and Granny Flats: Your Guide to Turning One House into Two Homes" (Taunton Press, $24.95), examines the growing trend of homeowners adding in-law apartments, cottages, flats and suites (also known as accessory dwelling units) to their property. From couples wanting an affordable and dignified space for aging parents to homeowners looking for rental income to help pay their bills or provide adult children a safe landing between jobs, the uncertain times and unforeseen curveballs of life - divorce, death, unemployment - have families rethinking their current and future housing needs.

According to a survey last year by the National Association of Home Builders, 68 percent of the builders who responded said they were working on a home remodeling project related to aging. Diann Patton, a Consumer Specialist for Coldwell Banker Real Estate, says their most recent survey last year found that 37 percent of sales professionals noticed an increase in home buyers looking for a property to accommodate more than one generation of their family. The AARP Public Policy Institute recently confirmed multigenerational homes are on the rise in the United States, reporting there were roughly one-half million more households that were multigenerational in 2010 than in 2009, and that in the past two years, the number of multigenerational households grew faster than in any other two-year period since 2000, coinciding largely with the recession of the past few years.

Architect Jon Larson of Jarvis Architects in Oakland - a firm that has three projects featured in Litchfield's book - believes interest in in-law units reflects homeowners' concerns about the up-and-down economy and real estate market. "It's a sign of the times," he says. "People are fixing up what they have, and we're trying to work within the existing structure whenever we can."

Larson says you don't necessarily need lots of extra square footage for an inviting in-law unit. The smallest unit in Litchfield's book is a backyard cottage that measures 269 square feet.

"It can feel spacious without being as physically large as other spaces in the home," he says. "Higher ceilings, tall doors and high windows can improve the quality of living in the space. Including adjacent landscape as part of the space with large French doors can make the unit feel larger, comfortable and accessible to the outdoors. You always want to include as much natural light as possible."

Larson adds that many of these design details can make an in-law not only more comfortable but also eco-friendly.

"Sustainability has come up at a great time with the economy - you don't have as much space to heat," he points out. "And things that work for universal design work for everyone."

In the book, Litchfield explains universal design attempts to create spaces that are accessible and usable to the greatest number of people, regardless of age or physical condition.

Grab bars for the bathroom, wider entrances for wheelchair access and levers instead of knobs on the doors are always a good idea for an in-law unit, making the space suitable for young children, aging Baby Boomers or seniors with limited mobility. A user-friendly in-law unit also allows older homeowners to stay in the neighborhood they love. Some even choose to build an in-law unit for themselves and rent out their main home when it starts to feel too large or too difficult to maintain or maneuver. While a remodel or addition can make the cost of an in-law prohibitive for some homeowners, it can be less expensive than the money required for long-term care for aging relatives in a facility - and a potential source of income down the road. Litchfield says he just doesn't see too many drawbacks to the in-law concept.

"It's like any human relationship - it involves adjustments and compromises," he says. "I think learning to get along with people is very useful."

But you also need to do your homework to avoid making some common mistakes.

"Know your local building codes," says Litchfield. "It's easy to do. Call up your local planning department and identify your parcel. Go in and talk with them about what you want to do and be clear why you're doing it."

Laws vary by city, so clearing your plans with local building authorities saves you the headaches and safety issues of having an "outlaw" unit on your property. And know yourself, suggests Litchfield.

"If you're a person who enjoys other people and are flexible, there are lots of pluses," he says. "If you're a control freak or have had lots of problems with your neighbors in the past, think before you consider such a project."

You also don't want to surprise your neighbors with the new project. If you're considering adding an in-law unit, involve them before construction begins.

"You want to avoid disagreements down the line," stresses Litchfield. "Have a wine and cheese party with your architect and neighbors and show them what you plan to do."

Litchfield believes those who plan to rent their in-law unit should find someone who shares a similar lifestyle ("if you're an elderly person who values your quiet, you don't want to rent to a rock musician"). He also suggests checking out the prevailing rent in your area and backing off 10 percent - this helps enlarge the pool of potential renters and allows you to be more picky. Find out if separate mail addresses are needed, who handles yard work and other issues that come up when sharing a property.

With the right planning and attitude, an in-law unit can benefit all involved, he says. "This trend will continue because the number of multigenerational houses will increase," Litchfield says. "Houses have to change because our lives change."

"Hollywood Quad" Jim Troesh, "Highway to Heaven" actor/writer & industry's advocate for people with disabilities, dies at 54

From Hollywood Reporter:

Jim Troesh (pictured), a screenwriter, actor and entertainment industry disability advocate, died Oct. 1 at St. Joseph Medical Center in Burbank. He was 54.

Troesh was perhaps best known for his three-season role as a quadriplegic attorney on Highway to Heaven, the 1984-89 Michael Landon NBC drama for which he also wrote.

His screenwriting credits also include the 2006 film Color of the Cross, which he penned with Jean-Claude La Marre and Jean Claude Nelson.

As an active member of the WGA West’s Writers with Disabilities Committee, Troesh was the industry’s lone quadriplegic WGAW-SAG dual member and the first quadriplegic to join the actors union. He also served on the Performers Executive Committee of the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences, was a former national chairman of AFTRA’s Performers with Disabilities Committee and a former president of the Media Access Office.

”What Jim brought to the disability equation was an irreverent, disarming sense of the absurd. Humor kept him going for 41 years,” said WGAW WDC Committee chair Allen Rucker, who dedicated the 2011 Media Access Awards to Troesh at this year’s ceremony held Thursday.

The Media Access Awards honor projects and artists that improve awareness, promote accessibility and champion accurate representations of the disability experience.

Troesh received the prestigious Michael Landon Award from the Media Access Office and was a recipient of the ABC/Disney Writing Scholarship.

Among his recent projects, Troesh created the TV pilot The Hollywood Quad, a sitcom that he wrote, produced, directed and starred in along with guest star Bryan Cranston. Comically chronicling Troesh’s journey in the industry, he turned the program into a podcast series.

Troesh’s other acting credits include Boston Legal, Special Unit, Notes From the Underground, Rise and Walk: The Dennis Byrd Story and Airwolf.

At age 14, Troesh fell off a roof and sustained a spinal injury that left him paralyzed.

A memorial service will be held at 2 p.m. on Oct. 21 in North Hollywood at a location to be announced. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made in Troesh’s name to Total Improv Kids — Jim Troesh Scholarship; c/o Linda Fulton; Avery Schreiber Theatre; 11050 Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood, CA 91601.

"Deaf Jam," story of ASL spoken word slam scene, premieres on Independent Lens Nov. 3

From PBS:

Deaf Jam, the story of deaf teen Aneta Brodski’s (pictured) bold journey into the spoken word slam scene, premieres on the Emmy® Award-winning PBS series Independent Lens on Thursday, November 3, 2011 at 10 PM (check local listings).

Longing to explore and fully participate in the hearing world, Aneta dives into ASL poetry, a vibrant three-dimensional art form where body movements convey meaning.

ASL poetry liberates a deaf poet from the confines of spoken language. There is no paper or text. Rhymes are measured in hand shapes and meter in movements. Images cut and dissolve as its verses transcend all spoken word.

In a remarkable twist of fate, Aneta, who is Israeli, meets and then collaborates with Tahani — a hearing Palestinian slam poet. They create a hearing/deaf duet touching on their shared personal and cultural experiences — generating a new form of slam poetry that speaks to both the hearing and the deaf.

Happy 50th anniversary to In Touch, the BBC's radio program for blind and partially sighted people

From BBC News:

In Touch, the BBC's radio programme for blind and partially sighted people, celebrates its 50th anniversary this week.

Initially a monthly programme, In Touch first aired on 8 October in 1961 and was billed in the Radio Times as "a magazine with up-to-date news of people, problems and pleasures of special interest to blind listeners".

A special one-hour edition will be on Radio 4 between 1200 and 1300 BST this Friday featuring blind opera singer Denise Leigh and the more recently blind comedy writer Denis Norden amongst others.

Today, in its 20-minute weekly slot, In Touch covers staple issues such as accessible technology, benefits changes and medical breakthroughs but, perhaps less obviously, also has featured blind photographers, skydiving and a memorable April Fools prank about guide pigs being introduced to the UK.

Its longest serving producer, Thena Heshel, describes In Touch as having a "quirky humour". Current presenter Peter White explains: "The atmosphere of the programme is that blindness isn't the end of the world."

In Touch had its first outing on Network Three at 2.40pm on a Sunday in 1961, a little remembered minority interests radio station. It was followed by Italian for Beginners, a programme for chess players and another for lovers of the card game bridge.

In Touch for 20 years Over on the Light Programme at the same time you could hear The Navy Lark, a comedy series starring a young Jon Pertwee and the Home Service had a Sunday Symphony by Beethoven.

The first programme was "compered" by David Scott Blackhall who had been blind for just four years and was a housing officer from Hertfordshire.

He continued presenting the programme until the week before he died in 1981. In the Radio Times, producer Jocelyn Ferguson described him as: "A poet and a mountaineer of the walking and scrambling kind."

In the 30th anniversary In Touch Handbook from 1991, Thena Heshel explained: "It was David's experience of learning to cope with blindness with little or no help from any welfare services that helped to lay the foundations for In Touch guiding principles - to be a programme made by and for blind people which would help them overcome the limitations imposed by blindness at home, at work and in society in general."

At the time, there were few ways in which someone without sight could get information independently. Printed newspapers, pamphlets, posters and books - the traditional ways of conveying information - were not an option and we were still many years away from talking computers and the internet. The advent of radio services in the 1920s had been a godsend.

The importance of the medium as a means of getting information to those who can't see was acknowledged in the Telegraphy (blind persons' facilities) Act 1926, which made blind people - a low income group - exempt from having to pay for a radio licence. Some years later, In Touch was able to bring specific information that could be of direct practical use.

In 1965, the programme upset RNIB when it ran a groundbreaking item about how Americans were being trained to use a "long" white cane which they swept from side to side in front of them.

Mobility lessons for blind people were unheard of back then in the UK and the national blind charity wasn't impressed that the BBC had broadcast information about a method not yet tested in this country; it is of course commonplace now.

The programme has also been a forum for issues that rarely get a wide airing.

"The most important thing we've ever done," says the show's veteran presenter Peter White, "would be about benefits. Blind people, by definition, are often hard up. We know there are big numbers unemployed, people often don't have an awful lot put by and often need it.

"The progress that was made in the 70s, 80s and early 90s in giving people benefits that took account of the cost of disability was important.

"We played a big part of that. We played a big part in getting mobility allowance for deaf-blind people. It was previously just for people who found it literally difficult to move, like wheelchair users.

"The argument was that while deaf-blind people might be able to move, there were so many difficulties in navigation that effectively you needed the same kind of help."

Off air, In Touch produced the aforementioned handbook which became the blindness bible for social workers. The programme also toured the UK with outside broadcasts and its own mini resource centre in the late 1970s. For a while it hosted a telephone helpline after the programme.

There have been many advances in technology over the last 50 years making the life of a blind person today very different. What we understand as media and information provision now has moved on.

So will In Touch exist in another 50 years? White says no but believes it's still important today.

"The only reason I say that is because at the moment we haven't reached the technological point where people can't do without it.

"Let's face it, we don't know what form radio will take in 50 years. If it lasts, it will have perhaps changed out of recognition. Just looking at what's happened in the last three or four years with access to smart phones, it is revolutionary for blind people, it's as big a revolution as Braille in terms of getting information and it should get easier so that it's not just the blind whizz kids out there who are using them."

White dismisses the idea that blindness may be eradicated in a further 50 years hence entirely negating the need for such a programme in the future.

"Very few cures have been effective. The biggest advance in actually lessening the problem happened in the 1950s with cataracts. You couldn't quote to me many examples. Most drugs around now slow down the onset or keep it stable.

"Stem cells? Well, we're miles away. They say 10 or 15 years; they've been saying 10 or 15 years for ages - mirages. It may happen but I wouldn't hold my breath."