A Beautiful Visit From The CWC

16 Jul 2013 3 Comments

by Dr. Michelle Harrison in Child Welfare Committee, Daily Life, Disability, Dr. Harrison's Life, Future, Orphans

A comment posted to my last post, https://shishursevay.com/2013/07/14/cwc-child-welfare-committee-finally-coming-for-inspection/, wrote:

“I am a little confused. One minute the CWC folks are confrontational; they want to take you to task for some kind of an infraction, teach you a lesson. The next minute, they want you to help them do their work for which they are paid by the tax-payers. I’ll eagerly wait for the next segment of the story, as will others, I’m sure.“

Yes, that’s right.  No, it makes no sense.  That’s just how it is.

From the beginning, I have wanted to work with the government, particularly regarding the institutionalized children. I don’t know why the CWC’s attitude changed.  I do know that currently they are desperate and overwhelmed, and they have always been angry that I wouldn’t take more.

The visit was beautiful.  We did the formal things that are expected.  The girls presented flowers to each guest.  Each did Pranam, the touching of an elder’s feet.   One of the girls presented her embroidery work, framed, and another presented her artwork, also framed and inscribed to the CWC.

Our girl presents her artwork to the Chairwoman

They toured the house and I insisted they see inside of the bathroom.

Bathroom on the Tour

They noticed the fire extinguishers and said they’d not seen them before in a home.  Seema Gupta took them upstairs while the Chairwoman stayed down in my office to talk.  I had put my three published books out on the table and showed them to her.  I told her that clearly I had a lot of help here, but that I carried the full burden, that I have to think about what I can manage.

They had come with an agenda. The Chairwoman said they can offer all sorts of assistance to expand the building, or to build a new home.  But they also have an immediate problem, namely four very young children with disabilities who are in various hospitals in one of the districts that has no functioning  CWC.   The others came downstairs to rejoin us and talked more about the problems they are facing.   They talked of their pain in visiting the children in the institution.  There is a paralysis here… something I noticed years ago.  Some people really do care, but they don’t know what to do.

Table and Talking in the CWC meeting.

Tabla  and Talking in the CWC meeting.  One of the members plays and was thrilled that our girls are learning tabla.

I said I would help.  I said I would take the four children, but that I also then wanted two more without known disabilities.  We have to stay inclusive.  As we were talking, the girls on their own started to dance, and we went to watch them.

The girls on their own started to dance and so we all went to watch.

The Girls Decided to Dance

The CWC hoped Seema and I would come back to the office with them, and review the information on the four children.  I found that two of them are too sick to be cared for in a non-medical facility.  We agreed to take the other two, one an infant with Downs, and another with CP, about 2-3 years old.  Then I reminded them that we will take two little girls with no known disabilities, that we had to remain inclusive.  Right now there are many children in the institution.  Their care is horrible.  I can’t do as much as I want but it was just too painful to say no.  And I do believe we will be expanding.  We have to.

Sometime within the next week, the children will be brought to CWC for us to pick up.

Well, everyone here is excited.  We have many blessings.

CWC (Child Welfare Committee) Finally Coming For Inspection

14 Jul 2013 3 Comments

by Dr. Michelle Harrison in Child Welfare Committee, Culture, Daily Life, Disability, Dr. Harrison's Life, Education/School, Funds, Future, Outreach

Our last contact with CWC is described in the post “Foes Into Friends” https://shishursevay.com/2013/04/03/foes-into-friends/

Before that we were told we would be investigated for violation of child labor laws because of a complaint by an adolescent who had become too violent for us to manage.    On Friday, Seema Gupta, our Board Vice-President stopped in at CWC to find out the disposition of the girl who had made the complaint against us, as she was still officially on our roll.

Then the officials asked Seema, “Would Madam please take more children?” and Seema explained that we have no room or resources for more.  Then they asked, “Would Madam build a home for boys with disabilities?  We have the funds!  We would help her do it!”  Seema said they had to visit first because only then would they understand what Shishur Sevay is.  So they are coming tomorrow.  We will pick them up and bring them and then take them back.  Seema will take the day off from work.  The girls will stay home from school.  But it’s not about what’s wrong with us.  It’s about their wanting help.  They do remember when I brought the boys from Aunty’s Home and they had no place to put them.  They still don’t.

Would I do it?  I will if I can make it good, as it should be, and inclusive in some way, and with lots of recreation.  I think that’s one of the worst problems for children with limited mobility and other disabilities.  They don’t get to wear themselves out with fun, exercise, etc.  I want a pool, enough for them to experience weightlessness…..

I’m a dreamer.  I’m already planning it in my head, thinking about building plans and accessibility.  I already looked up construction costs for commercial buildings….  I would have two wings though, for boys and girls, but for the lower ages I’d keep them together.

I want to start with an advisory group of people with disabilities….

I’m so glad I put down the outside tiles.  I’ll have more pictures later on but instead of ramps looking separate, they just blend in, and look like rolling surfaces.  Before we chose the tile, we had Sudip try out several, with water over them, to see which ones gave his crutches the best grip.

The “client” should always be the end user.  Schools should be built to meet the needs of students, hospitals to meet the needs of patients, Shishur Sevay to meet needs as we discover them, and then find the best solutions.

Well, this may all be too much for the people coming from CWC, but I’m fired up and looking for ways and funds to make such a thing happen.  I like the idea of building what is needed, as defined by the community.  But just in case anyone is worried, Shishur Sevay and the life of the girls, of our family will also continue.  This is home, my home and theirs.

Outside feels part of the house now, a nice place to be, to play… safe from slipping.

Ready for School, with her bag and her sister's shoes.

Ready for School, with her bag and her sister’s shoes.

Well, you can see the tiles!  On the left, the black area is Jelly, the dog.  Actually the side there is flat for her bed.  Before we made a bed for her she would stretch out across the entrance, even when someone in a wheelchair was trying to go through.

Tiles going up, across, an down.

Tiles going up, across, and down.

I love what we have been able to do.  I’m looking forward to the visit.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  I’m prepared for the best and the worst.  It’s just how life is.

Theater: Laughter at the Expense of Those With Disabilities

30 Jun 2013 4 Comments

by Dr. Michelle Harrison in Cerebral Palsy, Culture, Daily Life, Disability, Ganga, Good and Evil, Obstacles

We attended a drama, Anubhav, by Ramaprasad Banik, being put on by the Theater Group of Nehru Children’s Museum at the Academy of Fine Arts.  It was presented as a play about the emotional sensitivity of children, and it took place in a school for boys.    I took the five big girls, Kalpana,and Ganga (in her chair).  Seema Gupta, on our Board met us there.  She had friends whose children were in the play, an she had gotten the tickets for us.  She had also clarified in advance that we had one child in a wheelchair, and it was agreed the chair would be next to us in the aisle.

We were on the early side and went right in.  We found our seats in the second row, up to the aisle, but the aisle was so narrow, the chair totally blocked the aisle.  So I moved forward temporarily to the front row and put the chair in front of me, leaving a very wide area for people to pass.

“Madam, you must move.  This (the child in the chair) is blocking the way.”

Me: “Well there is still a lot of room for people to pass, but there is no room in the aisle for anyone to get past.  I have a seat just behind me, with the others.”  He looked back and figured out  we were a group.  I added, ‘We arranged all this in advance.”

“Madam, you can move her to the back of the auditorium so she does not block the aisle.”

“You mean where she can’t see as much?  That wouldn’t be nice to treat her that way just because she is in a wheelchair!”    Iwas being as sweet, dumb sounding, and immovable as I could.

“Oh yes, well then move her over to the end of the row, by the exit.”

“Oh my, but then she can’t see the full stage.”

All this happened over about ten minutes, with different men coming to replace the ones who had been unsuccessful in moving us.  Seema Gupta was wonderful in trying to help negotiate, knowing I wasn’t moving, and as upset as I was. I talked to Ganga as this was going on.  I asked if she was OK, and I said we were doing this so people would have better places for people who needed wheelchairs.  She smiled, grinned, and seemed to get it.  I asked again if she was OK, and she grinned.

A compromise was reached, wherein Ganga would be in the front with me before the play and when it started I would move back into the second row seat on the aisle and she would be in the aisle next to me.  All I could think of was the fire hazard of this arrangement now that we WERE blocking the aisle.

The play was in Bengali but I’d heard that it was about emotional sensitivity, and there was an orphan in it… and I could follow some of what was going on.  There was slapstick… I kept noticing that.  Early there was slapstick about a boy who couldn’t speak.  He would open his mouth and words wouldn’t come out.  The others would yell at him to talk.  His mother hit him over the head.  The whole place burst into laughter, including Ganga.  But then Ganga couldn’t stop laughing, couldn’t get herself under control.  Because it was fastest way, I picked her up out of the chair and left through the exit.  I sat with her in the lobby, just soothing her.  She calmed down.  She was upset.  We just sat, her head against my chest.

The theater group director happened to come by and said hello.  He had no idea what had gone on.  He was proud of the production, and said it was good our children were here “because it’s about these things.”  He talked with pride about his school, and the boys… (he then quickly added girls) who were in it.  But the play was a boy’s play.  There were NO good parts for girls.  They either were girls who giggled, or mothers of the boys.

I tried once to carry her back in but she started uncontrolled spasms of laughter as I opened the door.  But during intermission we did go back in.  I carried her in and sat with her on my lap, which is where she wanted to be.  Usually she would rather be with the big girls.  She didn’t laugh.  She was somber.   In the final scene the boy who can’t talk was being goaded by another boy.  Just another happy ending.

I just kept thinking how glad I was that Sudip wasn’t there, my Secretary with CP, who lives it all.

A few days ago we visited an NGO, which is part of an international group that serves the poor and those with disabilities.  Sudip had visited them seven years before as part of his activism with Ankur in Disability Awareness and they remembered him fondly.  We visited all their buildings and grounds and then they took us to the meditation room, a beautiful architecturally designed brick structure, but inaccessible to those with disabilities.  This had not changed in the seven years since Sudip had been there before.  I asked what they did with people in wheelchairs, whether they just carried them in.  “No, they sit outside the building.”

From inside this beautiful meditation room, I took a picture of Sudipendu Dutta standing outside.

Sudipendu Dutta on crutches standing outside inaccessible meditation building

Sudipendu Dutta Outside the Ashram’s Inaccessible Meditation Room

Rape… “too much for the reader to deal with.”

26 May 2013 6 Comments

by Dr. Michelle Harrison in Daily Life, Disability, Dr. Harrison's Life, Music and Dance, Safety, Violence

Rehearsing for a performance of dance and song, everyone.

Rehearsing for a performance of dance and song, everyone.

I’m Stuck!  I keep starting posts and deleting them, at least six times over the last few weeks.  Fear stops me.

The picture I posted is not what I imagined I’d pick.  I was thinking something sad, related to what I haven’t said yet.  The picture is of a singing rehearsal for the Movement, Dance, and Song program we are putting on next month. At Shishur Sevay we have Dance & Movement three times a week, and Singing & Harmonium twice a week.   We have dances now that include everyone.  One dance is a train, with the older girls pushing along the chairs with the girls who cannot walk.  In other dances, we have harnesses that the older girls use to swing the younger ones as they dance.  Most of the time we dance and sing to the songs of Tagore.  I want to get someone to film the small event.  The picture above is reflective of what it is like at Shishur Sevay these days.  We are no longer living crisis to crisis.

So how do we talk about sexual abuse without “spoiling the atmosphere?”  It is so incredibly easy to ignore.  Like others, I was shaken by the gang rape in Delhi, and then the rape, mutilation, and death of the five year old.   Both these events galvanized the country.

But I also started thinking about what happens every day….  I thought about what one of my girls said of her life before Shishur Sevay, “You beg in the day; then the men use you at night; then you beg again in the morning.”  I thought about the sexual abuse in orphanages…. and I thought about our experience with one of the girls sexually abusing another, in fact, abusing the children with disabilities who cannot protest and cannot tell.  I thought about the pacts of silence around abuse, here, there, everywhere.  Shishur Sevay has become Zero Tolerant with regard to abuse.  There has to be a safe place.  The victims have to come first.  Still, you can’t be zero tolerant unless you can find out what is going on.  All the doors in our house have glass panes.  We have CCTV with cameras all over.  Nothing is ever enough.  Evil has its way of seeping through.

I wrote a book, “The Preteen’s First Book About Love, Sex, and AIDS,” published in 1995 by American Psychiatric Press.  I wrote, “The crossing of sexual boundaries between people, whether in word or touch, seems to cause deeper wounds and greater shame than any other kinds of abuse.  The person who commits the crime of sexual abuse seems to pass on the shame and humiliation to the victim.”

What then do we tell the children?  Do we “normalize” abuse as something that may happen, but isn’t their fault?  What are we saying then about our cultures, and I use plural because these problems are universal.  This is not an India problem except that it has attention now, and because I live here with children who have been abused, and may very well be abused in the future as women, women alone, women as wives, women as cognitively or physically impaired.

I looked again at the picture I posted above, and posted it again.  It’s the same picture but having talked about sexual abuse, it’s not quite the same because we are not quite the same when we see behind the wall.

Rehearsal for a Performance of Dance and Movement, and Song

Rehearsal for a Performance of Dance and Movement, and Song, Everyone

At Shishur Sevay we are also starting tabla classes.  I bought two sets, so two girls could take their lessons at once.  I unpacked the tablas yesterday and then I started tapping the daya and soon I was far away, not thinking about anything, tapping to ancient rhythms that took the troubles out of my mind space.

`Dr. Harrison playing with the new tabla, getting lost in the sound.

I read that tabla is an ancient language, “Everything that is to be played on tabla can be spoken; in fact, everything that is to be played must first be spoken.”  So here are some spoken words I hope one day to be able to play in the language of the tabla.

Rape

I forgot for a moment

I had been raped, for

One moment forgotten,

In eighteen years remembering —

Eighteen years is

for fear,

Eighteen years is

for hate,

Eighteen years is

for pain,

Eighteen more years, for

One more moment, of

Forgetting

I had been raped.

MH

11/76

My first book, “A Woman in Residence,” Random House 1982, now in Kindle, is an autobiographical account of my training in obstetrics and gynecology.  The manuscript I submitted to the publisher included the story of my having been raped at knife-point when I was 17, but the editor insisted I take it out.  She said, “It’s too much for the reader to deal with.”  I went along with her, too vulnerable to argue.

My fear?  I guess I just discovered it, “too much for the reader to deal with.”

Let my dialogue begin.  I have been too silent for too long.

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