The Last Days of Forty-Niner

One summer, when I was in college and helping at Royaneh with Troop 14, a camp commissioner, whose son was in the troop, approached. He said that Troop 347 was coming to camp in the third week and urgently needed extra adult leaders. He asked me if I would help him with the leadership of that troop. I said yes. I had no summer job to which to return, and I have always believed in the Scout Law. So I was present at the third opening campfire of the year as a provisional leader, a leader on loan, as it were, from another troop. Troop 347 had a much smaller contingent than Troop 14, and camped in Forty-Niner, which lay below the chapel and the horseshoe pit. Once this campsite had contained four cabins in the same style as that of the Pioneer campsite, but erosion and weathering had reduced it from four to two plus a fire pit. The 347 contingent was small enough to fit, even though one of the cabins had a gaping hole at the back which made the building only half-usable. This 347 had disabilities - but with aid, they could attend Scout camp. It may seem strange that the council would put Scouts in a campsite with hazards for even non-disabled persons, but I am no expert in the difficulties of ADA compliance and fundamentally physical spaces such as summer camps. Every time I stepped into the cabin, I felt a twinge of fear lest someone, disabled or not, should fall through or lacerate themselves, There were many enjoyable times that session, but when I returned next summer and found Forty-Niner had been torn down, I shed no tears. Forty-Niner is now a toy-sized climbing wall to provide an extra merit badge area.

I Once Was Blind, But Now I See

I probably should be at a Maunday Thursday service right now, but the thought of washing someone else's feet is repulsive. So, in lieu of my bid for a book club meeting, I will share my thoughts on disabilities awareness.

As I was walking to class the other day, a group of admitted students came around the corner. All the students were blind, outfitted with red-and-white canes rather than guide dogs. One of the effects of my romantic history has been a heightened awareness of persons with disabilities in public settings. I stepped out of the way and let them pass.

This brief encounter remained in the back of my mind as I attended classes. After class, I picked up a university paper. One of the articles addressed the plight of persons with disabilities in light (pun intended) of the recent power outage. I shall skip over the fact that I probably know the cause and the foreman of the human cause of the power outage. Several students with disabilities that restricted and eliminated their movement were stranded when the power died, since the elevators did not work.

This highlighted the lack of an overall university plan for evacuation of students with disabilities. On the one hand, the university budget is tight, and the needs of the students are great, so a sparse distribution of human resources is not unexpected; the recent closing of a local bookstore (Thidwick Books) due to a somewhat petty threat of an ADA lawsuit disinclines me to use extremely harsh language. On the other hand, students with mobility issues have no choice about classes on the higher floors of the building. One suggested solution is a designated gathering area on each floor for the students with disabilities, but this solution does not work so well if any fire is involved.

What disturbs me most, however, about this incident, is the following sentence: “Students with disabilities who do not receive assistance from classmates and faculty ...” It is possible that this sentence refers to those persons with disabilities whom the classmates and faculty cannot help due to equipment issue (although one would think a university would have plenty of strong lads and lasses to move heavy equipment). If, however, the writer does indeed intend the verb “to do” rather than “to can”, it betrays a flaw in human nature even more than university policy. If one shares a class with a person with a disability, one should be willing to assist him or her if asked, If removal from the wheelchair is necessary (and here my Baden Powell obsession betrays me), there are carries designed for such purposes which do not require a long time to learn.

Ultimately, all of us who are able-bodied should be more aware of the needs of persons with disabilities willing to help when asked (because one of the side-effects of having a disability is a certain level of assertion obnoxious in the abled but necessary for those who are not).