No More Cuts! Rally in Downtown Santa Rosa

“No more cuts!” chanted the crowd of 250 able-d walkers and people in wheelchairs on the downtown sidewalk. “Don’t cut our services,” we yelled together, unifying voices in the chilly breeze. It was uncomfortable to be on the cool side of the state building, the cool side of interest in funding, looking out at the inviting sunshine of other interests warmed in the limelight.

The people that gathered have a way of making uncomfortable present and real. They lay it on the line, with open and honest remarks about their income, their bills, their struggles, and their contributions to society, but real is uncomfortable. Have we forgotten to consider that people who happen to have disabilities contribute most of their “extra dollars” to our communities for any leisure activities or personal items they need, just as people without disabilities do? I was reminded of that in a board meeting at Becoming Independent when Carin Lawrence spoke about Community Living Services.

Uncomfortable became friendly as we huddled closer for warmth against the biting wind causing goose-bumps on skin. An extra sweater became a source of warmth for Anita, who reminded me of Hannah in twenty or thirty more years. She held her colorful sign out as she chanted softly, holding her purple lunchbox in her other hand. She was prepared and ready to take action.

A rally makes everyone feel different from those passing on the street or driving in their cars. Differences lead to questions, awareness, and possible answers. Close quarters on the sidewalk led to engaging conversations in the huddle. I learned about Loretta, and her brother who drives a red truck to his job building houses. It dawned on me that I knew her from her race-walking event at Special Olympics. Our conversation shifted to the races she was looking forward to participating in at the finals. We had a common experience beyond the sidewalk.

Rally-day was another’s birthday, celebrating with chocolate or vanilla cupcakes. It didn’t matter which flavor, “It’s all good,” she said. Can we have some sort of equality and an “it’s all good” attitude about how we treat people with disabilities? We are not there yet, and it feels as if we are going backward on this journey. Additional 1.25% cuts make everyone scream when services to people with disabilities comes as a low blow to the existing wounds of the last 3% cuts.
Life doesn’t prepare us for things that happen, that don’t make any sense. The people I met and talked with don’t deserve to be made more uncomfortable or diminished. They need to be heard and understood. They were there, present to tell their stories—more unusual than the typical person, I don’t think so. They were happy to be heard and passionate about being part of a community where collective voices can make change happen.