Encore Judith Heumann, Disability Rights Leader Discusses Memoir

Welcome to Disability Matters with your host Joyce Bender. All comments, views, and opinions expressed on the show are solely those of the host, guest, and callers. Now the host of Disability Matters, here's Joyce Bender.

Hey, hi everyone, welcome to the show. Those of you in the United States and around the world, uh, we have our largest listening out in China. Thank you, but I just want to say for that one person, no matter where or what country you're in, like Iceland, hey, it's still important. You can make a difference with what you're doing. Same thing with Tunisia, where I just did a program, and I know Judy did visit there and do a program, which we can talk about in a little bit. But hey, special shout out to Yoshiko Dart. Yoshiko, you know how we love you. And why I do that on every show is because I want us to remember our history. And if you don't know it, I want you to know it. And she is the wife of the late, great Justin Dart, who was a force of nature. To fight behind getting the ADA signed. Also, wow, we have a lot of corporate sponsors now. Highmark, who has been the lead sponsor for 4 years. Our new sponsor, Peoples, Wells Fargo, and Employment Options. Thank you all for what you're doing to help me provide quality of life through education and entertainment to people with disabilities around the world. And speaking about entertainment, oh my goodness, I got to tell you, I am like so excited about this show today. I just want to tell you, when I went to the back of the book and I saw my name included in acknowledgments, guess what? I cried. Judy Heumann's book, I cried. You know why? Oh, you know, it was so like unbelievable to me to not only be acknowledged like that by Judy Heumann, but you know, to know, okay, I am in it. I am part of the disability community. You all know I live with epilepsy, but you also know I'm the CEO and founder of Bender Consulting Services, which is a for-profit company. And for me to be able to work with someone like Judy is such a very big deal to me. And I'm going to tell you, her book is riveting. I am not kidding you. This book is so Excellent. Being Human: An Unrepentant Memoir of a Disability Rights Activist. Judy, welcome to the show.

So nice to be with you, Joyce Bender, and for all of you around the world, hello, and hope you are doing well and staying safe.

Yes, that is for sure, the staying safe part. Well, Judy, what we are going to do today is we are going to have readings from your book, and in between Queen talk about your book, which I have so many things I can ask you about because I went through a detailed reading and I have notes and highlights all through this book. But to have a reading from you will mean so much to our listeners. And as you know from your position at the State Department, people do know you around the world. So, I'm going to turn it over to you so we can start with a reading from your book.

Okay, and let me tell everyone, you can get the book through Amazon, and you spell my name H-E-U-M-A-N-N. It's Being Human, and Joyce, maybe you can also put it up when people go to look for the link to be able to hear it in the future.

Yes, absolutely, and I'll also put it on my website.

Thank you, and for those of you who read Japanese, the Jap— there's going to be an edition of the book coming out in 2021 in Japanese, so that's going to be really exciting.

So with these last questions, Joyce Bender. That's exciting. You know why? Because our show, we did a show a few months ago from the embassy in Japan. So you have to let me know when that happens.

I will, promise. That'll be great. All right, so this is a book that it's called a memoir, so it's about my life. And I also want to say that for those of you who would like to listen to the book, there is an audio version which you can also get through Amazon. And the audio version has been read by a woman named Ali Stroker. And Ali Stroker is a disabled wheelchair user, and she's actually the first wheelchair user to perform in the United States in New York City on what we call Broadway. Also, she won an award, a Tony Award, for her performance in a musical called Oklahoma! And a few weeks ago, she starred in a film on Lifetime, and the name of the film is Christmas Ever After. So if you have access to to that particular station, I encourage you to look at Christmas Ever After. It's a great piece, and she is a main lead in— Ali is a main lead in the film, but while she has a disability, the program doesn't focus on her disability. Focuses on her as a writer, as a writer of love stories and falling in love herself. So it's a great film. She's a great actress. So I'm going to start off by reading something from the beginning of my book. I never wished I didn't have a disability. I'm fairly certain my parents didn't either. I never asked them, but if I had, I don't think they would have said that our lives would have been better if I hadn't had a disability. They accepted it and moved forward. That was who they were. That was their way. They deliberately decided not to tell me what the doctor had advised when I recovered from polio and it became clear I was never going to walk again. It wasn't until I was in my 30s that I discovered what he suggested. I recommend that you place her in an institution, he told my parents. It wasn't personal. It didn't have anything to do with our family being German immigrants, nor was it ill-intentioned. I am sure he sincerely believed that the very best thing for these young parents to do would be to have their 2-year-old child raised in an institution. In many ways, institutionalization was the status quo in 1949. Parents weren't necessarily even encouraged to visit their institutionalized children. Kids with disabilities were considered a hardship economically and socially. They brought stigma to the family. People thought that when someone in your family had a disability, it was because someone had done something wrong. So that's the beginning of the book. Do you want to ask me anything about that?

Yes, yes, I do. When did that stop happening, telling parents, put a child with a significant disability in an institution?

I mean, I think it depends on where you live. That's still in some way, shape, or form still going on in parts of the world, whether or not people are being formally put in an institution or are restricted by lack of accessibility in communities. So I would say that in the United In the United States, we've definitely been moving away from institutionalizing children since a number of our laws came into being. And laws that were enabling disabled children to go to school and beginning to really assist families to understand that their children had a future. I think we've seen this in growing numbers of countries around the world where disabled people are forming their own organizations and where our stories are being told by ourselves as disabled people and allowing families to see that their children can grow up in their homes and be a meaningful part of the family.

Well, I'll tell you, uh, I mean, this book, you'll know what I mean when I say this. Unbelievable what you fought and overcame from such a young age, from not being able to go to school to having someone come to your house 2 days a week and teach you for a couple hours. I'm reading this and I'm thinking how brilliant you are today. Because you didn't go to, I think it was 4th grade before you went to school. And then when you go to school, you're not in a regular school. Now you're in a special education or whatever you wanna call it class with people who are 18 years old, illiterate. I mean, you're like, you're with a whole group of people with disabilities, different types of disabilities. Significant disabilities at different levels. So, like, how the heck did you get so smart? That's what I want to know. I mean, how did you do this?

I don't know that I'm so smart, but—

Yeah, you are very smart. Look at all your accomplishments. I mean, Assistant Secretary with OSERS. I mean, you know, World Bank, State Department. Do you know what I mean? When I read this, I'm not kidding, I'm thinking, how How did she have this limited, unbelievable limited education? I mean, would you say it was from reading? I know you read a lot. I mean, how did you compensate for this, for this lack of education?

First of all, what I think is important to understand, and for the audience, because I'm sure whatever country you're from, if you had your disability when you were younger, your parents probably played an important role in your life. And I would say that was definitely true for my parents. My parents kept pushing to try to get me into programs to be able to go to school. My mother had taken me to school when I was 5. In the United States, you start going to school when you're 5, but the school in our neighborhood said I couldn't go to that school because I was a fire hazard. So, as Joyce Bender said, I didn't start actually going to classes in a school building until I was 9 years old. And between the ages of 6, 7, 8, and 9, I had a teacher who was sent by the Board of Education for 2.5 hours a week. Now, my family were readers and we always were talking. So, I think it was a combination of reading, talking, listening that really helped me move forward. And again, I think, you know, really from the people I've met in many countries, we have very similar stories. I'm 73 years old now. So, things are very different today in the United States because of laws that we have on education, of laws that we have that make it illegal to discriminate against disabled people. So, today, if I was growing up, I wouldn't be on home instruction. I would be most likely in a regular school, in regular classes, learning what other children were learning. I think, you know, like many others, we learn in spite of the fact that the system, it doesn't really feel that we're able to learn or isn't invested in our learning. And I think my parents really, as I've been saying, played an incredible role in helping me recognize that education was very important and looking at ways of helping me to learn every day.

Yeah, how about when you had to learn Hebrew?

Hebrew. That's funny. Joyce Bender. So, I'm Jewish and I— my mother was trying to get me into a Jewish day school for the first grade or when I was 6. And the principal said I didn't know enough Hebrew. And my mother had me tutored every day, like over the summer, or many days. And then called the principal and said I knew enough Hebrew to go to the first grade, and he said no. So, I think my mother didn't realize that he was asking her to do something that he felt she wouldn't do, and so that was another disappointment on her end and my father's end. But, you know, I think what that taught me, or one of the things it taught me, is that perseverance is very important. And you don't let no get in your way. And that's really an important part of my life, your life, Joyce, and other people. Would you like me to read another part?

Yes, please.

Okay, so I'm going to read a part when I'm 8 years old. I, as a result of polio, was not able to walk. I used a wheelchair and braces. So I was about 8 years old with what I'm going to read. I think it was a beautiful sunny day, but it might have been cloudy. I don't remember. What I do remember was being caught up in my conversation with Arlene as she pushed me in my wheelchair, talking about what we were going to buy at the candy store or what we wanted to do later that day. We were pleased to be walking around the corner to buy sweets in front of Dr. Nagler's brick house, which I knew was Dr. Nagler's house because I'd been there with my mother for her doctor's appointment. We paused to cross the street. Arlene turned me around to lower my wheelchair off the curb, pushed me across the street, and then once we reached the other side, She put her foot on the metal bar on the back of my chair, tipped me and the chair back, and lifted my chair onto the sidewalk. As we did this, a few kids came toward us from the opposite direction. They were walking slowly down the sidewalk. As they passed, Arlene shifted my wheelchair to the side to make room for them. We didn't know them and didn't I did not pay much attention, engrossed as we were in our conversation. So I was surprised when one of the kids turned suddenly to look at me. He stood in front of me, staring down at me in my wheelchair. "Are you sick?" he asked me loudly. I stared at him, not understanding. "What?" "Are you sick?" he repeated insistently. His voice boomed. I shook my head, trying to clear the words away. I was confused but couldn't speak. Are you sick? he asked, slowing the words down as if I were a toddler. The world went silent as the words reverberated in my head. I couldn't. I shrank down, frozen with confusion, wanting to cover myself up with something, anything, to hide from that question. The boy's insistent eyes on me. Are you sick? he asked insistently, almost shouting. Suddenly, I became aware of Dr. Nagler's house behind me. And my face turned a cringingly deep red. Does he think I'm going to the doctor? But he's not my doctor, I thought fiercely. I fought back tears. I couldn't, wouldn't cry in front of everyone. I wasn't sick. It made no sense. I knew I wasn't. But then why was he asking me that? I became uncertain of myself. Was I sick? I saw myself through his eyes and the light around me shifted. Shadows emerged from the corners of my mind. Previously submerged words, thoughts, and half-heard conversations tumbled into the glare of a spotlight. In a blinding flash, everything in my life made a perverse kind of sense. I couldn't go to this school. I couldn't go to that school. I couldn't do this. I couldn't do that. I couldn't walk up the stairs. I couldn't open doors. I couldn't even cross the street. I was different, but I'd always known that. It wasn't that. It was the world and how it saw me. The world thought I was sick. Sick people stayed home in bed. They didn't go out to play or go to school. They weren't expected to go outside, to be a part of things, to be a part of the world. I wasn't expected to be a part of the world. Abruptly, I knew this to be true, as if the knowledge had already existed for years throughout my entire body. I felt nauseatingly humiliated at the idea that everyone else had known this but me. Had they kept it from me? The embarrassment settled in as a cold ball deep in my stomach where I could feel it spreading into my limbs. Was it sunny or cloudy? I don't know. I remember Arlene was pushing me. We were going to the store to buy candy and we were chatting and I was a butterfly becoming a caterpillar.

Yeah, that part of the book is very powerful because it, it's like that's when you first knew. It seems as if that's when you first knew that things were different, that people were going to see you differently. And of course, you know, butterfly becoming a caterpillar says it all. But am I right? Am I right? Was that like the first time at that candy store that it really hit you?

I'd say what was true is that it was the first time that I really recognized that people saw me as sick and that that was very different than seeing me as someone using a wheelchair. In my neighborhood and the block that I lived, and with my cousins, you know, it was pretty insulated. And people did know that I didn't walk, and they did see me using a wheelchair, but they didn't call me sick. So I think the word sick really, um, much more negative comment, you know, meaning I wasn't the same as they were.

Yeah, and even in, uh, Let's see, what year would that have been? 19— maybe '96 or '97, when I first— when Tony Coelho first appointed me to the President's Committee on the Employment of People with Disabilities. I can still remember sitting there and hearing them talk about we need to move from the people seeing us as the medical model to a group of people. So that really was what you're talking about. I mean, that is, of course, what was the problem also with the employment of people with disabilities. And that unfortunately stayed on for a long time. And don't you agree with me about that?

Employment still is one of the major areas that we're addressing around the world, employment of disabled individuals. And I think COVID is something that we're all very concerned about, not just COVID itself and its impact on the general populations around the world, but on disabled people in particular. Because in the United States, we've seen many people who've lost their jobs as a result of COVID but disabled individuals who appear to be losing jobs at a higher rate than non-disabled people. So, I think employment is still something that we're all working really, really hard, not only to keep people in the workforce, but to get people back into the workforce.

Well, I have a note here by your book, I mean by a paragraph in your book toward the end that says, "The very first thing I wanted to figure out was how to make disabled people visible. As long as they were out of sight, we were out of mind, which made us not only easier to discount, but easier to hurt and worse." I'm reading that and I wrote there, "Oh my God, is that the way it is? Is that one of the reasons we have this high unemployment rate?" Employment, the part where it says, "As long as we were out of sight, we were out of mind." Well, you know, Chris Griffin always says, "If you want to change the workface of America, if you want to make a difference, hire someone." You know, stop talking about it. And when I read that, I thought, wow, I could see the parallel to this high unemployment, because this is the 30th year of the anniversary of the ADA, and there's no use people sugarcoating it. I live it, I know it, that, you know, we have a long way to go. And now, as you said, Judy, it's even worse with what's going to happen with COVID Right.

I think though, you know, some of the One of the positive things that also may be coming out of COVID is greater flexibility in the workforce so that people will be able to work sometimes out of their homes. And for disabled people who need flexibility, that could be very valuable. On the other hand, I want to also make sure that as the— workforce comes back in a more robust way over the next year to 2 years, that disabled people are able to not only work at home if they choose and if it's okay with the employer, but also that people will be able to go back to offices, including disabled people being able to be back in the office.

That is absolutely true. That always worries me. Again, The work from home right now is great for so many people with disabilities in rural areas or, you know, somewhere where they can't relocate to where there is a job. It's fabulous. But it can never be that when we go back to work that people with disabilities are not included. I have to ask you, Judy, what part of the book were you going to read next before— I don't want to talk about it if you're going to read it.

Well, do you have a section you'd like me to read? If any others?

Yeah.

Okay.

Yeah, yeah, I like, uh, I have page 48 where your mother heard about Camp Oakhurst for the same time. Okay, I really like this part because, uh, A, that camp I feel is what changed everything, and B, I think it made everyone, because they're together, feel free. So if you could read from there, that would be great.

Sorry, Joyce, what page?

48. Page 48.

Okay, let me read this here, page 48. What I have is— let me explain to people. I applied to be a teacher, and in New York City, you had to have a written exam, a medical exam, and an oral exam. And I had passed the written exam, and I had passed the oral exam, but when I was taking the medical exam, I had problems. And so let me read you that part here.

Yeah, that's what I want you to read, because when I read that, I was— ah, I couldn't believe it. So go ahead.

Okay. So I am now in the Department of Education, the medical office. "I'm Dr. James," she said, and ushered me into a small office where she took a seat at a brown wooden desk in the corner. At first, the medical exam was more or less predictable. Dr. James took my blood pressure, listened to my heart, and asked standard questions. All normal. I relaxed a little. The doctor moved on asking questions about the history of my polio. I had been 18 months old when I contracted the virus and was sick for about a month. I was in and out of an iron lung for 3 months, and the illness had left me quadriplegic, unable to walk, with only limited use of my hands and arms. Gradually, the doctor's questions became more pointed and intense. An almost voyeuristic titillation seemed to enter her demeanor. As she asked about my polio-related medical treatment from 20 years ago. As I complied, describing in detail the 2 surgeries I'd had and the rehabilitation I'd done after polio, I started to go increasingly uncomfortable. Things were starting to feel wrong. Some boundary was very— was being crossed. Yes. In and out of the hospital until I was 5. At 6, I had surgery to release the tendons in my knees and hips, and I just recently had a spinal fusion. I was sure this line of inquiry was completely irrelevant to whether or not I was a medical danger to second graders while sitting in a classroom teaching them English. Yes, yes. "Raise your arms," the doctor continued. I lifted my forearms up. Hello?

I'm here.

Sorry. Had I ever walked? The doctor wanted to know. My anxiety peaked. Familiar alarms started clanging in my head. This was definitely out of the bounds of what was appropriate and pertinent. Well, before my spinal fusion, I used braces and crutches. 'But I've never walked, really. I've never walked across the street.' Then in a matter-of-fact voice, in the same exact tone that she'd asked me to breathe in and breathe out, the doctor asked me to show her how I went to the bathroom. The unexpected question stopped me in the stomach. This was wrong, completely inappropriate. Hot, angry tears came to my eyes. This should not be happening. But of course it was. What could I possibly say? I fought the urge to wheel around and drive out. I had no choice but to answer. So, that story went on and on, and at the end, I was denied my license, but then I went to court and I got my license, so I was a teacher in elementary school in Brooklyn, New York. For 3 years.

Yeah, and that was— when I read that, I just, I couldn't even believe you went through that. I read that, I was, oh, I couldn't believe how horrible the discrimination was at that time. I mean, from that perspective, we have come a long way. If we could just move accessibility and employment And education, you know, I worry about training for young people, you know, training for adults to get the correct training. I worry about artificial intelligence, and that's why we all have to keep working together on all of this. Judy, I don't care where you start here, but I want you to read about Uh, what you did when you were going to the house of— how do you pronounce his name? I never get it right.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay, hold on. Okay, so for the audience, um, we have a law in the United States called Section 504. It was a law that came about a number of years before the Americans with Disabilities Act. And in the U.S., we— when we pass laws, we usually have something called regulations. And the regulations are an explanation of what the law means and, in many cases, are really very important. So that those people who have responsibility to enact whatever the law says understand what they have to do and what they don't have to do. And in this case, Section 504, those of us with disabilities, it allowed us to understand what was supposed to be happening working on ending discrimination. And it was quite specific. 504 said, If you got money from the federal government, you couldn't discriminate against someone with disability. The regulations were very important because they were defining what disability was. They were defining what discrimination was. They were defining what could be done in order to ensure that one was not being discriminated against. And we had demonstrations. Across the United States in 1977 that started on April 4th. I had moved from Brooklyn to California. I was working with an organization called the Center for Independent Living. Some of you may have heard of Centers for Independent Living. And we were working in the Berkeley, San Francisco area to organize demonstrations and to have a meeting with a government official who was based in San Francisco. His name was Maldonado, Joe Maldonado. Joe Maldonado was a smallish man with a head of gray and curly hair. When we entered the room, he stood up and awkwardly motioned for us to sit, seeming not to process that many of us already were sitting. "¿Qué puedo hacer por ustedes?" "What can I do for you?" He was clearly shocked at the size of our crowd. "We're here to ask about the status of the enabling regulations for Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act," I spoke loudly. Maldonado leaned back uneasily in his chair with a guarded look. His light-colored suit was tight across his shoulders. A white polka dot tie hands resting on his chest. Behind me, more demonstrators packed themselves into the office. The room hushed with attention. "What is Section 504?" he asked. I paused, surprised. What? Was he serious? Section 504 of Title V of the 1963 Rehabilitation Act prohibited discrimination against people with disabilities institutions and programs receiving federal financial assistance. HEW is responsible for finalizing the enabling regulations for it. Do you know anything at all about what's happening with these regulations in Washington? I hope my voice was echoing down the hall to the rest of the protesters. I'm sorry, I don't know anything about Section 504. "Or about what is happening with these regulations?" Maldonado said again, turning red. Several worried wrinkles had appeared on his forehead. "Can we please speak with the staff on your team who work on 504?" I asked. Maldonado looked displeased. "I'm telling you, we don't have any information for you." "I understand," I said, "but we'd like to speak with your staff, please." For a minute, Maldonado looked like he was going to refuse. Then he walked out and came back a moment later with two HEW employees. I asked them about the regulations. They looked utterly blank. I explained again. Exasperation slipped into my voice. Joe Quinn stood behind me interpreting in sign language. The entire The entire floor listened. But it was true. Neither Maldonado nor his staff had any clue what I was talking about. Hot fury consumed my body. This might just be a job to Mr. Maldonado, but his job affected people, every single person in this office and millions more. Did he not understand that? With an icy calm, I bombarded Maldonado. With question after question, asking why, asking why they were watering down the regulations, what changes were they proposing, why the department wasn't involving the community in the changes when the regulations were coming out. Maldonado looked like he was trying to disappear under his desk. I refused to feel sorry for him. I leaned forward. My heart pounded. Now. Do it now, I thought. I looked straight into Maldonado's eyes. 504 is critical for our lives. I spoke vehemently, authoritatively. Behind me, I felt the crowd hold its breath. We're not leaving until we get assurances. The words came from some wellspring within me. A sense of absolute certainty spread throughout my body. "¡No entiendes! ¡No te importa!" The crowd chanted behind me. Maldonado looked at us. Perhaps he looked at us and saw a room full of people he could dismiss if he stared us down long enough. Then he got up and walked out of the office. Kitty, a good friend of mine, and I looked at each other. I leaned over to Kitty and whispered, "¿Cómo lo hice?" I always wanted to get Kitty's thoughts. Feeling my emotions as strongly as I did in those moments, it almost felt like an out-of-body experience, like I wasn't entirely sure of what had happened. "You made mincemeat out of him," Katie laughed. I later learned that while we were with Maldonado, 3 female HEW employees had been walking around offering the protesters in the lobby cookies and punch. They prepared for our meeting, like we were some kind of a field trip. Evidently they had undercatered.

I mean, that is such a great story. And you may tell them what happened after that, Judy. What happened with the occupation?

So guys, there's also a film that I think many of you can see. It's on YouTube and Netflix, and it's called Crip Camp, C-R-I-P, another word, C-A-M-P. And it's a documentary about a camp for disabled kids in New York State. And also follows the lives of a number of people who attended that camp and what people have done with their lives. And the 504 demonstrations are very nicely documented in this film, Crip Camp. So this particular demonstration lasted for 26 days, and there were about 150 people who were occupying the building, Health, Education, and Welfare building in San Francisco. And some of us left and went to Washington, D.C., other side of our country, and met other disabled people. Who were also fighting to get these regulations signed. In the end, they were signed by the official in the U.S. government, Joseph Califano, and that was the first major anti-discrimination law that we had focusing on disability in the United States. So, the law came out in '73. and the rules governing came out in May of '77. Very important and really was the precursor for the much larger law which came out in July of 1990 and just celebrated its 30th anniversary this year, the Americans with Disabilities Act., which was the civil rights for people with disabilities.

Um, I know we have— go ahead, go ahead, I'm sorry.

What were you saying? Yeah, the Americans with Disabilities Act covers the public and private sector, which is very important, and many countries don't have laws as strong as the Americans with Disabilities Act, which covers the public and private sector.

Well, you went on, you've done so many things, World Bank, I mean, so many things, but you did go to the State Department, and it was so really powerful, these, when you went to these different countries like Uganda, uh, you know, in Africa, what it was like for people with disabilities there. You may choose wherever you would like. Um, like maybe when you went to Africa and you saw the children, the building, the house you were in, uh, that was like—

yeah, there's that, that— yeah. I was just gonna just grab it. Hold on, let me see. Hold on. Do you have the page number there?

I don't think my pages match your pages.

It's okay. I can tell the story. So, we were in Uganda when I was working And I was working, I think it was with the World Bank, and we had gone to a rural part of Uganda, and we were meeting with a group of disabled individuals who were living in this particular village. And when we got there, we met with a number of people in their homes, and then they took us to an area where a number of people had gathered in a circle. And so what I normally do is, any place I go for meetings, regardless of the country, is to go over and shake people's hands and ask their names and why they're here at the meeting. And at this particular event, there was a little child who started really, really crying. When I was going around the circle, and it turned out, of course, that he had never seen a motorized wheelchair, and so he was very, very afraid of the motorized chair, and I ultimately had to stop going around the circle because every time I would move, he would really, really cry, and so if I just sat stationary, He didn't. But this particular village at that point, there was nobody who used a motorized wheelchair. And so I learned a lot from the people I was talking with, and they got to see a motorized wheelchair for the first time. And this little boy got really scared, and I felt terrible about that.

And he started crying every time the wheelchair moved.

Yeah, he did.

Yeah, I remember that. And a lot of those children, I think you call them crawlers or people in general.

No, these are different. Yeah, these were— so, you know, in, in some countries, disabled people are begging, and they're crawling on the ground because they don't have the braces, crutches, wheelchairs to be able to be off the ground, and they're called crawlers in some places. And, you know, they're basically in that situation because we don't have the right policies and— or the governments don't have the right policies in place to enable people to get the technology that they need and the ability to get the education and employment that they could benefit from.

Today, I know we only have a few minutes left in the show, which, oh my goodness, goes so fast. I want to talk about this book again, Being Human, H-E-U-M-A-N-N, An Unrepentant Memoir of a Disability Rights Activist. I just want to mention this book is phenomenal, and this book is historic. I mean, it's amazing how it takes you with Judy's life through all of these things that happen with 504 and, and so much more, so much more. You've got to get this book. I know you know what, I've been on the air 17 years. I think I've only endorsed maybe like 4 books in all that time. I am endorsing this book. This book is awesome. You've got to get it. Being Heumann: An Unrepentant Memoir of a Disability Rights Activist by Judith Heumann, H-E-U-M-A-N-N. I will get it out on benderconsult.com. But if you go to Amazon, you can get it. If you want to know more about this book, what we talked about today, you can hear this show on demand in case you want someone else to hear the show. Tell them about this. All they have to do— and I am advertising this on our social media— is subscribe to my radio show. Disability Matters with Joyce Bender on voiceamerica.com on either Apple or Spotify. And you can hear this show again, but you can share the podcast with others. Judy, I can't begin to tell you, once again, when I saw my name at the back, I— well, when I told my staff I got choked up telling them this because I was so honored to be acknowledged by you. But it is such an honor to have you with us today.

Thank you. And I want to tell your audience that one of the reasons why I think you'll like the book is many of my friends and other people who have been reading it see their story in this book. And so, I really hope that one thing this story does is to allow you to see the importance of telling your story. And that's what this is all about. How we're telling people our story, not only the problems, but the work that we've done to advance, move forward, and help advance our movement. So thank you, Joyce, so much for having me on.

My pleasure. And one other thing, Crip Camp. You can get that on Netflix. That movie is so powerful. C-R-I-P Camp, Crip Camp. And by the way, this book, you know how you can't think of what to give someone for a holiday gift? Here it is, this book, you can get it. We end every show with a quote, and today it is going to be from Judy Heumann and her book, where she said, "But human rights are like salamanders. You don't notice they're disappearing until suddenly you realize they've gone." And we can't let our civil rights go. Ever. This is Joyce Bender, America's Voice, where disability matters, at VoiceAmerica.com. Talk to you all next week.

Voice America would like to thank you for tuning in. Please join us next Tuesday at 11 AM Pacific time and 2 PM Eastern time for another next installment of Disability Matters, right here on the Voice America Variety Channel. We are the leader in live internet talk radio. VoiceAmerica.com.