My wish list for 2020: 20 things that I hope for

Dear readers,

Here are twenty things I want to see happen in 2020, regardless of any weight loss or exercise driven resolutions.

1. I want to see a guardianship overhaul and legislation illegalizing guardianship for profit, seniors and disabled people being protected from ownership like dogs by predatory peoples in all states.

2. I want to marry my partner, without penalty from SSI and medicare and all that crap, and I want to raise a family.

3. In the next decade, I hope to have delivered two children into the world. I want to be able to nurture these kids to respect and love their parents, elders, and so on. This will also be a bit like an insurance policy for any estate planning I need to do. I mean, my brothers’ children will not make any equity decisions, aging related decisions and other things.

4. In the next decade, I want to see if I can get a lawsuit in place with the state of Florida over my own guardianship case. It was grueling but for my parents, easy isolation, control, and abuse beyond what should happen.

5. In the next decade, I want to see if I can get a grant so I can buy the necessary equipment to put in a studio, and if my music is popular enough, I hope to one day move to a better and bigger house.

6. In the next decade, a woman that everybody likes should probably be President of the United States of America, and there will hopefully be an end to the male domination of that political office.

7. I want a couple musical instruments. One day, I think I might take up the accordion. I also want to get back into flute playing.

8. I want to eventually homeschool my children of the future, teaching them myself, and making modules for history texts they should probably have in mind. History should never really be just taught in books, though.

9 I want to interview people like fellow WordPressers and god forbid, people in my life who’ve been important going forward.

10. I want to lose some weight, of course, but that’s for health reasons.

11. I want to help others obtain the things they dream about.

12. I want to use some of that lawsuit money or a foundation that pays for others to get freed from illicit and slavery like guardianships.

13. I want to officially cut ties with ableists. Even in the blind community, there are ableists. Period.

14. I want to see more of Colorado and the country as a whole. Traveling outside the U.S.? Questionable.

15. Disability protections notwithstanding, I’d love to see Canada at least.

16. I want to eventually get more active and get a guide dog. This is where it is in the next decade, not so in 2020 per se.

17. I want to eventually own a pet cat or two. Maybe two cats, but not twelve. My poor aunt had lots and lots of cats hiding in her house, but she wasn’t a hoarder by any stretch of the imagination.

18. I want to eventually run into people that actually like reading this blog. I just happened to skype with Britney and we had a good, no excellent connection. She’s like my biggest fan.

19. I want to of course grow my blog’s reader stats, even if it means I have to start sharing crap again on Facebook.

20. I eventually want to teach others about life, love, and how to move around in the rapids of life, something I wish others would have shown me without putting me down.

In the next post, I plan to cover ten things that happened in the last decade. I hope you enjoy this.


My Wishes For 2020

This one has a lot of good points in it. Independence is important, and I wish I was able to do this stuff before I went to college but she’s got this in the bag.

My Wishes For 2020
— Read on

What I Really Got for Christmas

Dear readers,

My folks’ card didn’t arrive on time for me to do the essentials, shopping and such like this Christmas, so Trenton and I got nothing the first day of Christmas. I mean it, absolutely nothing. Trenton’s mom? I have no clue what surprises she has in store for us. But here’s something important: I got the gift of freedom and a family back. Freedom came with a cost, though, and it shouldn’t have. I should not have had a doctor have to step in and say I was a sane person who could take care of herself. My grandpapa has dementia symptoms, and he will progressively get worse of course. Of course, he has to understand this, and I wonder if my fiancé’s grandmother will get worse with time, as oftentimes people do. Dementia patients don’t always have the freedom to choose, and neither do disabled people, and this is why I think the gift of freedom is so precious at this time. I’m 33 years old, no children of my own, and my man and I can’t legally marry under the terms set forth by the SSI program currently in the United States. Penalties, as we know, are not good incentives to marry, so the opposite must be done, oftentimes with couples having to scam the system because the money and resources given out are so few. It’s not enough for kids, support of children without declaring them on welfare, and so on. Trump would not like this, but a little child should not have to be removed from us because we’re blind and can’t pay every bill on time. What we need is support, freedom, and obvious options when dealing with government agencies and healthcare providers.

As a freed person, I want to assure those in bondage that you are no way alone in this fight. If you’re a healthy senior and you are even able to access this blog, congratulations. You’ve done something a guardian might like to say is inappropriate, etc. But face this, your life could go in the hands of a guardian, and you could die. Seniors in Florida face a much higher rate of unlawful guardianships than any group of people in the state. Disabled Floridians need hope, freedom, and equality and dignity like everybody else gets for being able. My parents recognized my grandpapa’s need for services and support, so he and his wife now live in Jacksonville, in an assisted living independent living place. At least the meals are made for them, they can do whatever they want, and they can have whatever shopping excursions blow their minds. That cuts down enormously on drive time, at least. My mother recognizes that these people, the ones who fed and loved and clothed her and nursed her as a child need support themselves. Her mother now needs rehabilitative services, but not a guardian to steal her assets and launder money like it’s going out of style. Money laundering is a charge you don’t want to mess with, tampering with evidence and other things could be next. But the gift of freedom is precious and rare given that a doctor was able to step in, she should not have had to do this. I could easily have won without the doctor’s help, but it had to be so such that I would not be trafficked like the other seniors and disabled Floridians who face worse consequences, and caregiver abuse is on the rise in Florida nursing homes. If my mother’s parents ended up institutionalized, I would have screamed a resounding, no. Do not do this. Caregivers will abuse them and there will be less of a chance of them coming out of that place alive if you try. Nursing homes are not for everybody, not for anyone, and should never be considered for any simple elders. We need to have more respect for my Grandpapa and Grandmama and others that might have suffered a much worse fate. Senior choice in housing is important, and I hope my parents helped them make the choice to move to Jacksonville, only because I know that you must work together with your aging parents to make sure that they get the first choice of thing they want. My mother knows, for example, that the way her father spends his golden years these days is through reading. My grandfather was, in any case, a guy who enjoyed spy novels, still does, and yet I guess there aren’t enough spy novels in the Florida talking book pile he gets every month. He’d have to download the books via Bard, but he doesn’t have the capacity as yet to read the words on his computer screen, or push the right buttons to download books. So it’s books by mail, but still I hope it’s good for him to read something whether by audio or another means. There are indeed ways to spend your golden years other than sit around in an institution and get abused by a caregiver.

I can tell you right now, I could have been in the shoes of people who are in bondage. I could have been there, done that, but I have, and don’t want to go back. My grandparents on both sides are the strongest people I know, and even my dad’s mom, my Grammy, whose Christmas cards always beat my dad’s anyway, gets the prize for being the most caring grandmother I’ll ever know. Besides my fiancé’s grandma, my dad’s mom is a very good cook and who knows? My grandmother’s cooking will become well known throughout the world if I have things my way. One day, I’ll have to be a grandmother and yes, kids will beg me to bake cookies. So, at least I cooked on Christmas Eve, and the assembled casserole looked delicious, and I’m glad some of you liked the pictures I took of it before it went bye bye. Down the hatch, and yes, I haven’t forgotten the digestive system chant. It’s kind of weird, but we learned it in school.

This Christmas, I’d like everybody to realize you have the gift of freedom, and so do I. Santa Claus took a while to bring me that much, and it wasn’t in the form of a fat man in a red suit, at least. My doctor had to step in, and still she gets appointment visits from me because she did what she had to do. Anyhow, Merry Christmas, all and to all a good New Year as well. I will be writing twenty things that happened this year, and twenty things that happened this decade.

What is Christmas, and What does it all Mean?

Dear readers,

While we didn’t put up our Christmas tree this year, Trenton and I still have quite a feeling of Christmas in our hearts. It’s not even about the good large Christmas tree, as is pointed out in A Charlie Brown Christmas. Charlie Brown’s own tree is a good example of how one from a humble background, or something that doesn’t seem worth it to modern folks, can have a lot of value. This repeats itself in many a movie and TV show. Here’s an example of what I’m talking about.

In How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the Grinch, as everybody knows, tries to steal Christmas from Whoville, and gets a real big surprise. Mr. Grinch learns quickly that Christmas doesn’t come with trees, lights, packages, bows, bags, and store bought items. I was personally falling full victim to this whole thing, especially if my git cards don’t arrive on time. Ah, the wonder of postal lateness. My family still owes me a Christmas card, and I didn’t even get it today. I don’t think my rebate thing will come in time for any sort of going out and enjoying the atmosphere at the mall. Yes, there’s even a mall Santa, which I used to enjoy a lot. However, things took a downward turn in the financial department, and that’s where I stand.

As a person who is dating someone of color, I realize Christmas may have been different for Trenton than me. Trenton’s Christmases might not have been the same because he grew up living smart, as it is called when finances are totally messed up and the child support checks don’t come. Even a low wage job doesn’t get you a nicer place. Today, low wages are the rage in some markets, even outsourcing jobs overseas is the norm. However, I’m kind of happy to say that we both don’t care about the gifts under the tree. While the Grinch learns a very important lesson on the value of Christmas and togetherness, let’s turn to someone who may well be familiar to 90s kids everywhere.

While I do feel kind of sorry for the pizza man, Home Alone is the funniest and arguably one of the best Christmas films out there. It’s funny as hell, and so funny in fact that I can just about quote the entire thing. Home Alone 1 is arguably the best in the series, Macaulay Culkin being the best and probably the cutest little example of what I’m about to discuss. The misadventures of Kevin McCallister, while funny and heartwarming, can teach all of us a bit of good about family. While I do believe my family did things wrong, they didn’t just leave me all alone at home on vacation to France–they actually went to Italy instead–they did do some pretty stupid things that led me to being disadvantaged among people themselves. Many families of disabled people do this, not because they understand the consequences either. It’s usually because they think protection is good at any price. Please listen to the series on YouTube called the Price of Protection, and you’ll see what I mean.

At the beginning of the film, you see Kevin saying things like, “I don’t want any family. FAmilies suck.” Well, in a way he’s kind of right. Families do and don’t suck. By film’s end, Kevin realizes that Christmas is about family, not anything else. Even more so, Kate realizes she misses her son, and would go the distance just to make sure he’s okay. Kate said, at one point, that she’d sell her soul to the devil just to get home to her eight-year-old son. Wow, that’s a bit of mom power there. Home Alone and the Grinch both teach us that in spite of it all, the holidays are all about being with those you love and care about, family, etc. I saw this just in with my choir family in Soar. One of the boys must’ve turned eighteen, or something, and got kicked out of the house for the holidays. I saw an outpouring of support from some choir members, people sent recipes to calm and comfort the boy, and he also needs clothes and other things. The amazing way a family supports their own is something I’ll always cherish. This is a good real life example of Christmas in action.

Thank you all for reading this blog, and I hope to have the new year’s blog up soon. Thanks to Britney (Life in the Key of Britney), or being so nice and reading this stuff. Even if it’s only her reading this blog, I’ll be writing this probably til Kingdom come. Anyway, please check out Life in the Key of Britney if you get a chance and have a happy holiday season.


Who I Am

Dear readers,

This is a post I’d like to dedicate to Chelsea Clinton and her mother. Why? Because their book, entitled “The Book of Gutsy Women” is a mantra of “be prepared” and “be bold.” But moreover, this post is about who I am, who I didn’t want to be, and who I became. Let me start with a brief summary which I hope will expand into a published work.


First, I was born in 1986, in Orlando, Florida, raised in the Space Age by engineering students who later became workers at the Kennedy Space Center. I’m sorry to admit that I did not take the path that they expected, and it was because of their later actions against me that now I find myself having to fight for the rights and civil liberties of disabled and elders. Let’s start from the beginning of that phase, shall we?

Those of you who thought I was conceited, well I’m sorry, but your thought of me being conceited is brazen and stupid. If you think I’m conceited, you are. You are the insecure person, all because you never had the chance to experience prison life. No, I’m not talking about prison like go walk in the yard every day, eat expired meals, or worse, live in abhorrent conditions. Or worse, deplorable conditions, you may have inhabited. Okay, you may have experienced tough jail time, but face this, I was imprisoned in my family’s living quarters for five years, but something within me told me that I had to leave. It was either leave, get the NFB training I got, or be stuck isolated and friendless for life, having people wish I’d stay in a cage, etc. This was the case of a guy called Rob, who was flirting with me, and I wasn’t having it. Because of that flirtatious encounter, I don’t let a man get between me and my own personal honor. Rob, however, did not like this respectability. He blocked me on AIM, told me to go sit and rot in a cage, and honestly opposed my independence. This is stupid, altogether custodial and wrong as well as cruel. That kind of language bounced back to the people I dealt with.

Let’s face another fact. For those who call me entitled, shut up and go burn somewhere. Entitled people are mostly predators, predators and criminals and con artists. Good people aren’t entitled. I’m entitled to three different things: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. All of these are in the preamble of the Constitution, and I’m sad to say they’re being chipped away by an entitled brat called Trump. He must be removed from office, especially if my fiancé’s vision of the America we live in comes true, where disabled men and women and children are all thrown out, replaced with white, able, and rich kids. Ugh. I can’t stand the white people who are thinking about me as such, entitled and stupid and insecure. Someone called a post of mine on Facebook “disgusting.” One brazen man from California said he was “glad you’re not in a position of power.” That just eggs me on, stupid man. I will be in a position of power, and he will not. I honestly wish I could tell him to his face that he raped a friend of mine, raped someone to the point of pregnancy, and after the pregnancy, she gave up her child, but that’s your DNA running around. Yes, that man’s DNA is in that child. That’s not just her child, that’s everybody’s child. There are so many men who are both blind and sighted who think women are simply a place to rest their appendages, namely the penis, and a place to unload their sexual frustrations. The answer, I’m mighty proud to say, is no.

For the men and women who think I should simply resign from activism and get a real job, again I want you to zip your lips closed, don’t speak a word, and go somewhere else and talk about something else other than me. Have you noticed that anyone who’s said this about me is mostly white, privileged, and able to work? I’ll tell you one guy that said this about me was white, privileged, and a father and stepfather. Ugh. It makes me sick to know that these people are not serving as role models, not realizing where they could have gone, or where they came from. Probably in most cases, they came from a humble background. I’d like to say I’m a bit too much for these bastardes, and I won’t stop till they are kept off the rostrum, not allowed to speak out against someone who’s doing the right thing. And I didn’t even ask for this.

While someone might say, “Yeah, Beth, you’re asking for trolls. You’re asking for sex without consent. You’re a slut,” I will say this, “Shut up and go to Hell with your comments and bad names and language. It is in no way that I will accept someone who is poised to deliver bad language to my activism community.” I was freed from the guardianship that held me captive for 15 years, as if all the boyfriends I had were only holding on to me for safekeeping. Trenton, for instance, is altogether the best boyfriend and fiancé I have ever had. Probably will be a better husband than anything and anyone else, including those weird roller coasters. No offense to a woman who might have a weird sexual relationship with any inanimate items, but I find Trenton to be my best supporter. Of course, he has supported me in the face of assault and slut shaming, and the slut shaming, sadly, was done by a girl who was raised by whites. She might have been of a minority group, but she didn’t act like it at all. She acted as though I was inferior to her, and this angers me to no end because she is here, here in Denver, somewhere I won’t necessarily pinpoint. However, she needs to understand that she was also in all ways privileged. Privileged people look down on people like me, who’ve had to taste what we call ableism, and that ableism, coupled with exclusion and doctrinal woes made me the woman I am today. I’m sorry, but I hope the professionals in Brevard County read this. They don’t realize I didn’t ask someone to be an activist, to fight on behalf of disabled people who need to be freed from guardianship. I did not ask for guardianship all around either. My parents used it as a tool to silence me, and as a tool for abuse, and that needs to be said and I hope to God someone believes me. You have to believe your victims, especially the blind ones. Blind females stand an 85% chance of being raped, including my friend I mentioned earlier, who was raped on a date with a man at the same center she was at. He slipped something into a drink she had in her hand, and like any practiced college preppy, he dragged her to his bed and raped her. She woke up not knowing she’d been exposed, in his bed, and not sure how and why she was in bed with the man who just attacked her. She had changed the tone of her voice when I mentioned the man’s name, and she said, clearly that the man had raped her. There are many Jane Doh rape cases out there involving blind and mentally disabled women, intellectually disabled women, etc. Parents raise their disabled kids to be obedient, kind, and complacent. This is dangerous, as someone could take advantage of that person at any moment in their lives.

Ashley, 13, was raped by a stranger but few details are known. She now is somewhere in her thirties, and has to live with the trauma for the rest of. her life. Out of all the Ashleys out there I have spoken to, 9 will be raped this year. It’s not just female disabled people’s rapes that concerns me. Most rapists I have heard of were known to the victim, she being someone the guy might be interested in. The California Casanova I mentioned before ultimately had a crush or interest or was friends with his victim, which is about 90% of all rape cases, including those involving able women.

In order to protect these women, the parents oftentimes want guardianship, but that ruins lives more than countless times. I refuse to think that the guardianship being gone is the end of a fight. Now, my next step is to fight for others. A medical professional had to step in and say I was not in need of a guardian, and psych tests are biased, so the only way to figure this out is to legislate out guardianship in favor of a more supportive, person centered thing called supportive decision making. You might think, but what about those with Down’s syndrome or other medically diagnosable conditions like the intellectual disability that Dawn, a woman from Rockledge in Brevard County, got after contracting the measles? Robert, her father, was upset understandably after finding out that her baby, Dawn’s own flesh and blood, was the child of a caretaker at a group home. Dawn desperately needs safety training, among other things, and there has to be a way to give all intellectually disabled women a voice. Dawn Blanchard was raped repeatedly by her caregiver, something that happens a lot more commonplace in nursing homes and institutions in state facilities for the disabled. There was a baby born to a San Carlos Apache woman in Arizona who was in what we call a state of “vegetation.” Guardianship and a group home prevented her from getting better care. Now, her baby is in her family’s care, and she will need extra care from now on. I don’t think sterilizing a disabled woman is going to stop a caregiver from raping her, rather it will enable such acts. Imagine our Californian from the depths of nowhereville decided to do the same thing to a woman in his care. I would hope he doesn’t give himself that opportunity. Criminals look for two things: a victim and an opportunity. The victim presents itself among people they know, but an opportunity would come later.

This guy I mentioned a few times has looked for victims and opportunities in my friend, a girl he impregnated, and countless other blind women he might have seen drunk at conventions. This is where the NFB code of conduct should be stringent. I didn’t ask to be an activist, nor will I ever ask for death, but if activism comes knocking and death later, I have to accept both because if someone doesn’t stand up for the ones who are rendered voiceless, those of us who are powerless, then the powerful will rape and take advantage of them.

One thing I often think about these days is how I’m going to spend my life. Writing this blog is a therapeutic release for me, since I only get a monthly therapy visit. I wish I had better and more therapy, and a driver to take me to said appointments because of time constraints and buses might break down. Ugh. The big thing that any NFB center should keep in mind is that guardianship ruins lives, and the NFB should be willing to fight for blind and low vision people who can’t live under a guardian’s imprisoning stares. It is impossible for those of us who read this blog to understand where and how this happens. Typically, a parent or abuser says the following thing while doing the abuse: “We’re gonna do it so don’t fight it and don’t tell anyone or we’ll (blank).” The blank is filled in with any bit of bodily harm, punishment, or otherwise cruelty. They always start out that way. Then, the lawyers and evaluators come in, and my parents honestly don’t get this part, they are ableist usually. Ableist people that are hired by the state and county will devalue my words, devalue the words of anyone who sits before them, call them an “imbecile” or “idiot” or “incapacitated.” The lawyer who did this, Rick Staddler, should never have been retired in grace. Why he did this I don’t get it, but he wanted to put on a friendly face. This doesn’t work and will never work.

Kristy Mount, the latest model worker for my parents’ bamboozling foolishness, somehow asked a doctor to fill out a form and the doctor did while she said I didn’t need a guardian. I’m sorry, but a medical professional I visit regularly didn’t and shouldn’t have stepped in or had to do so at all. I was a sane person, but let me introduce you to someone you already know, and tell you why guardianship should be illegal.

Meet Britney Spears, pop star, famed singer, princess and teenage sex symbol, and ward of the state of California. Yeah, this is her. She was stripped of her rights and her father could no longer care for her. Now, she’s fighting the courts to get her rights back, but because she is wealthy, her assets are being targeted and used to pay everything, from child support to a father’s medical bills. I don’t think Jamie Spears was able to understand what he did wrong. Britney could use a financial advisor and someone to help her with personal financial planning, and without taking her lines of credit away or without giving her cash in the envelopes. Britney is one of the many reasons I fight every day. This blog is the reason I’m free, and I won’t stop till everybody’s free, everybody’s happy, and yes, thanks to Dave Matthews, I hope people will walk through the big door and take the perps away. Dave Matthews wrote and sang a lot of songs about freedom, and he was right in saying that black people should be freed from Apartheid. Duh. However, no artist, poet, or writer is writing a story about disabled people’s rights, equality, or freedom unless they’re in a radical org such as the Federation, otherwise known at short hand as the NFB. There are no blind women writing about their experiences, especially in books, except for Sassy Outwater, who I’d like to say is amazingly strong and gutsy like Hilary Clinton, but even more so. Don’t mess with Sassy, she’ll burn you to death in a heartbeat. I want to say, not only is she one of few people who writes about people with disabilities in the accessibility world, but there are very few other women writers who pen such good things like blogs, books, or vlogs or photography about the rape of so many women, and the women with disabilities who can’t speak their minds are everywhere. Voter suppression should be something we talk about, especially for women with disabilities. I think guardians who are jealous want to put those women in a disadvantaged state because they believe this is an able world, that this is not a disabled woman’s world. I’m sorry, but a disabled woman should never be forced to give up what she wants most. I wanted to get married, have a job, have kids, and should have done so in the fifteen years I spent in captivity, or being held for safekeeping by boyfriends. My parents are foolish to think I’d let any man treat me like meat, and there are too many women with disabilities who are treated like such. Can we please force all men and all women of pubic age, thirteen and under, to explore the possibility that consent is real? We must, and that also includes intellectually disabled or blind or physically handicapped/disabled people. Give them sex education, not marriage education. Give them experiments they can do on themselves, good ones, and let them be free to express their love. Let them do it.

Who am I? I am a disability rights activist who never wanted to be one, but I’m in the fight anyway because it happened to me. All of it happened. Life, the guardianship, and the negative assholes–it all happened to me.


Some good news to share, but wait, there’s more.

Dear readers,

I understand some of you might be wondering, what’s the good news? Well, I’m in the process of terminating the long held song and dance tomfoolery that was the guardianship affair that took place in November 2004. It was wrong of my parents to have it, and it was also wrong of my parents to demand a doctor after fifteen years fill out a form that says I don’t need a guardian. Why it took fifteen years I’ll never understand, but even though I’m happy, there are things I’ll never get back from those fifteen years. I will never have a child who is probably healthy, and not at 21 years old. Though I was old enough to vote and drink, I was not allowed to date. Dating is the only way I feel that you should get to know your significant other anyway, so having had this experience for a while, I can tell you it’s not fun. Here are a few things I might try as a strategy for keeping this guardianship from coming back, and for anyone else for that matter.

  1. I want an apology from the county in Florida where this was. I demand an apology, after all believing parents over teenagers is common, but putting a disabled child as I was at a disadvantage as an adult is not what the county and state should have done. They should have told my parents clearly that “You have to teach your daughter about sexual offenders and predators.” Well, I had to teach myself that, through a parent’s handbook, predators have specific grooming behavior and there are a lot of things they do and don’t do that warn someone that they are indeed a predator. My parents never would have thought it possible to teach a blind person about sexual predators, but guess what? I’ve seen a few blind men who are predators, no names here, and there are women predators too. I’m seriously considering having my own future kids learn about predators but there has to be a book that talks about the subject without broaching it as a scary topic. Therapeutic stories are a good way to heal from such, but I want to inoculate my kids from sexual predators even on the Internet. Yes, they will have to give up a few safety locks if they are special, and internet support groups are a good thing. Teenagers should keep in touch with teenagers, nonetheless, but adult mentors are essential for disabled folks. More below.
  2. I want my parents to apologize personally to me and Trenton. They should apologize for having had this guardianship for fifteen years, and putting the ball in my court for no reason, and for inconveniencing Trenton so he couldn’t marry me. They should also apologize for labeling me an internet addict. I’m not for the record. I am never going to say that I am an addict, simple as that, because really, I’m not. And if anyone asks, I’ll just say, some people just like to tell lies about others to get them down. I was down for five years, denied a chance to get training initially in Colorado before I got the CAP folks on Beth Crain, the DVR counselor I had at the time. I was transferred to Tiffany Wilson, who was instrumental in supporting my efforts to get through training, and thank God I was out of Florida’s hands by the end, but not before five years of isolation, no prom, no dances, no dating, no house buying, or marriage, or the things humans experience every day. My parents took all that away because they were jealous, unworthy of what they would call the highest level of Heaven, but let’s face it. Even I’m not going to any high level of that sort of realm, but my parents were also jealous of the wealth and riches and fame I could have had for my singing, my playing the piano, and all my musical accomplishments. They wanted all the credit for this, and a pure Virgin Mary of a daughter and not a daughter that went out and did normal things. They were very cruel because when I was interested in someone, it became for them a mental health case. This is not how you treat your child with a disability, and an autistic child should be honored for their quirks and differences. It should not be the opposite, which I’m sad to say that Julia the muppet from Sesame Street is a good example. Sesame Street should never have partnered with Autism Speaks, and I hate that org as much as anyone else should, but Autism Speaks is hogging the spotlight away from the Autism Self Advocacy Network, and the same with the Foundation Fighting Blindness doing the same taking the spotlight away from ACB and NFB. Both orgs are for blind people, and they fight for what we want. I would like to commend the NFB for one thing and one thing only, for protecting my right to parent. I’d like to commend the ACB for another thing though. Audio description is a big focus over there, and their audio description project has liberated me to watch movies and hit shows on Hulu and Netflix and the new Disney Plus. I’m not kidding. We’re happy that Trenton and I can watch things like Star Wars, Marvel Cinematic Universe movies, and yes, we can even watch the Santa Claus but Home Alone yet will become described, and I hope that is the case. Cool Runnings is great, and if you believe in a Jamaican bobsled team, go watch it sometime. Anyway, really, my parents don’t realize what these blind orgs are doing for the nation, the world, the whole universe when it comes to blindness. I’m different but not so different after all, but as a human being, I deserve dignity and grace beyond what these fools had when they got guardianship in 2004. I want to make sure I don’t have any next steps. Read below.
  3. I expect an apology from anyone who opposed my independence. This includes judges, lawyers, and anyone else who resides in Brevard County. An apology should come with the following things: compensation funds, money to buy a house, and maybe we should punish my parents by making them pay for the wedding and all the things their first born daughter’s kids get. I want my kids not to have to rely on charities simply because the parental units are blind or black, and I won’t have my kids starving and looking through trash bags for dinner. Ugh. So, in light of this, I’m going to have my parents sued or ask the state and county as well as my family to compensate for stealing fifteen years of my life, holding my rights hostage, and all that. It would have been a lot worse if I was seventeen. Well, guess what? I’m 33 years old now, and Trenton and I really want to be able to move on, but how can we if our children will starve and have to dig through the garbage in order to eat? I won’t let that happen, and my child won’t be starving and digging through trash bags or even worse, if Trump says disabled women and men are to be thrown out of the United States, we’d have to pack our bags and take the children with us to Canada. Period. That’s it. And Canadian authorities should know that Trump is a massive disaster waiting to explode on the disabled community.

While I’m sure that some of you think this good news is overshadowed by bad news, it is clear that as a human being I should be happy. But fifteen years is too much goddamn time spent with my rights held hostage, not allowed to leave, told who and with whom to spend my life or time with, what to do and how to exercise, etc. I won’t be going to the Titusville YMCA by the way, and that’s because it’s not a safe space for me to see people and exercise. I’d rather have my own exercise bike, and have it sitting in the apartment so we can exercise because the bike downstairs has a touchscreen and doesn’t do well with blind people. There’s a damn treadmill down there, but it’s also touchscreen usable, not usable by a blind person. Most modern gym equipment these days comes from Boflex, and that connects to an inaccessible app. I just want a used spin bicycle so I can bike my way around and get stronger that way. I want to focus on the cardio, not have to deal with oh, which way to turn, which landmarks to do, it slows me down. If I don’t do brisk walks, though, I won’t get the weight off that I gained so much of. However, there’s just too much in the way of barriers. Barriers to exercise and living in an apartment suck so I won’t go there. If my parents had their brains turned on, they’d notice something. I live in a shack, a bug infested thing at times, and it’s also got some black mold on the ceiling sometimes in the shower, and we didn’t have the right mildew or mold remover. Costly, right? Yes, it costs money. And I’m not about to say why I won’t buy it, but I want contributions from all members of my household who are of the age of majority to cleaning crap anyway. Yes, we pay rent, and cable is the only way to watch certain things described, so we’re screwed. Cord cutting should have more options, not just YouTube TV. If we don’t bundle, our Internet price will be so high we couldn’t afford it.

My parents and family and the state and county will have to owe me the following specific points in their apology:

  1. We’re sorry we screwed up your whole life for fifteen years.
  2. We’re stupid and ignorant when it comes to disability and blindness.
  3. We don’t know anything about the National Federation of the Blind, and we certainly don’t care about the American council of the Blind either.
  4. And this is very important. The state of Florida should owe me anything, the money in the amount of $150,000,000 for the rest of my whole life because at this fifteen year cycle, a lot of my previous classmates and friends are now either married in first or second relationships, have children, or stepchildren, or even more, they own houses and work. I can’t work because who’s gonna hire someone with fifteen years experience as a prisoner? In the guardianship world, there is no room for error. I will be working on a podcast with several folks from the FB Probate Warriors group on Facebook, and hopefully I can get people to get interviews on this podcast. Dr. Sam Sugar is amazingly awesome and he has done work in the guardianship circle mostly around the elderly, but trust me, I think my story is worth telling as well.

As I’m going to wait for the law firms to get back to me, I’m going to stop writing this for a while. But as of January, I will be the recipient of a gift. The gift of freedom is precious, so cherish every moment you have. You never know if it could be taken away.

Dedicated to all my transgender Friends: You Guys Rock!

Dear readers,

This is so cool. I got to watch a documentary recommended by my transgender buddy Davina, and she sent me the link to this documentary but it was easy to find on Netflix. I watched it thinking, this? A family in Colorado? Well, I’ve got news for all of you. I loved what I saw, both the dark comments and the highs and lows of the family were amazingly in full view. Only problem? No audio description, so yeah, I was assuming things. The Mathis family of Aurora, Colorado, not far from Denver, have triplets and an older daughter and a younger daughter. Their transgender daughter Coy is seven or eight by now, I forget how old this documentary is. I want to say I think Coy is like any other female child, who needs genitalia to dictate who you are? Though I’ve always been a woman, was assigned female at birth and all, I have totally embraced my transgender friends in the chorus and stuff. I want to make another thing clear: if Coy grows up and gets her confirmation surgery and good affirmative care, I want to see that girl in the Denver Women’s chorus or Soar Youth and Adult choir. Either choir will do, and it’s amazingly awesome. The choir at Soar is rather accepting of all types of people, and we have a gender fluid person in our tenor section, which is awesomeness. Coy’s story does say a lot, and I learned a bunch of things from what I saw in the story, but here’s the big thing I learned: in Colorado, you can use whatever restroom facilities you want. Even students can do this as well. My friend Christine, who has indeed received affirmative care and such, can do whatever she wants, even if the Trump administration wants to ban her from joining the marines. Who cares? If she wants to, she should pick it up. She could join the navy, the army, or whatever. However, we need a governing body to back this up.

I feel like I can be whoever I want in a world that doesn’t want me to exist, and sometimes for trans people, that’s the case. I have lots of friends who would agree, differences should be celebrated. While I think Coy is amazingly cool and all, she should probably read the Mighty Rebecca comic book. The Mighty Rebecca marvel comic is about a transgender superhero, someone who fights evildoers like the other Marvelites but does them for the sake of LGBTQI+ rights and such.

Okay, before I get crazier by the moment, let me just say a big thank you to the families of transgender folks, the ones who will accept their kids as they are. I can totally agree with the families who say that their child can be who they want to be. Here’s the thing I don’t like. The GOP and their anti transgender agenda, the Bathroom bill in NC, all the crap I got from friends in the South, like Georgia and such. I hope we elect better people who can do better things and represent the people who want to see good things for transgender people. I will for the future reference of this blog write some more about the Marvel Hero project. I liked Unstoppable Adonis. He is blind and plays football, and has dreams of going into the NFL. Good luck, I say, and I’ll write a story about him and other Marvel heroes in another post, but today, there’s more to come.


  1. I’m going to compile a list of things to do for disabled people in churches, with links to other blogs and books and other resources.
  2. I’m going to write about the Marvel Hero kids, and other people who are adults making a difference in the world.
  3. I’ll show you guys some more stuff and documentaries. If I find something cool, I’ll write about something cool. That’s just who I am, I write about something cool.