too late to die young
The Geeze has been telling me for over a year to read Harriet McBryde Johnson's work, so I finally ordered "too late to die young" from my wish list and can't believe I waited so long. Each chapter is a short, autobiographical tale starting from 3 years old through 40. Harriet gives us glimpses of life as a child, a student, a lawyer, an activist, a sister, a traveler, and a politician. I found it hard to put down not because I wanted to know "what happened next, " but because she is so open and honest, it was like getting to know a new friend.
One of my favorite stories is her trip to Cuba in 1997. She writes:
In my travels, I have only seen this type of effort from co-workers and colleagues. As soon as we step out of the meeting rooms and conference halls into our host city, no matter where it is, there is inevitably a barrier. Sometimes we can find ways around them, but that way is often longer, slower, or more expensive and with little help from the locals.
What will it take for people to be more aware? Less afraid? For there to be less barriers to work around? William asks, "When?" and says the "What" is connection. So, I'm reading books, sites, and writing my second draft of the script.
One of my favorite stories is her trip to Cuba in 1997. She writes:
We get to the open-air market near the cathedral... The street has been blocked and my chair won't fit. The sidewalk has a very high curb; right on the corner a large chunk of cement is gone. I'm about to tell the others to go in without me, when a man pops up and helps them haul me up in the air and over the barricade. We thank him and he shrugs. It's no big deal.
Throughout the day people help, without making it a big deal. It's the old socialist formula, "From each according to ability, to each according to need," played out one to one. It's hard to pin down, but I get the feeling that being a crip is no big deal here. On a family trip to Mexico, people were afraid to look at me... In Paris, cabs wouldn't stop. Even in Charleston, where I am so much at home, people tend to address my able-bodied companions. In Havana, I'm a person.
In my travels, I have only seen this type of effort from co-workers and colleagues. As soon as we step out of the meeting rooms and conference halls into our host city, no matter where it is, there is inevitably a barrier. Sometimes we can find ways around them, but that way is often longer, slower, or more expensive and with little help from the locals.
What will it take for people to be more aware? Less afraid? For there to be less barriers to work around? William asks, "When?" and says the "What" is connection. So, I'm reading books, sites, and writing my second draft of the script.

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