White Chocolate Mocha

Wow, that’s good. Who knew white chocolate and coffee would be genius together? Coming to you live from a new venue, Catalina Coffee Company in Redondo Beach. The large room is filled with scruffy mismatched wingback chairs and couches, little tables, lamps, bookshelves, and a big fireplace. It has a nice vibe and their beverages are served in comforting big white ceramic mugs.

I really want a brownie too but the ones they have in the case are still in the 9x13 pan they were baked in. I know I could go home and whip up a pan just like it right now so I can’t bring myself to actually buy one. I recently made a batch to satisfy a craving. The recipe I used was pretty good but I will work on tweaking it some more. The secret is to toast the nuts beforehand and then sprinkle them on top of the brownie batter before you bake it. They stay crunchy that way. The smell of baking brownies can lift any spirit yet they can hardly be called a healthy option.

I guess it is the tyranny of dichotomy. That is a phrase heard several times during the training session I just completed at work. New Staff Orientation or NSO, an acronym that causes fear and loathing to whoever hears it. Which is saying something since I work at an agency with an alarming preponderance of acronyms and employees who think nothing of making statements with seven or eight of them in a row, leading to a disorienting alphabet soup.

The title New Staff Orientation is really a misnomer since this training doesn’t contain the information about how to perform your day to day job. It is a seminar on the history of the regional centers like the one where I work and the overarching philosophies our agency is legally and morally required to follow in it’s practices of case management in the lives of people with disabilities.

The executive director for the agency has been called alternately, and sometimes in the same breath, as “visionary” and “dragon lady.” During my first week of work my supervisor made the following disturbing statement: “You know Meryl Streep in the movie “The Devil Wears Prada”? Well, our director is a little like that character.”

Whoo hoo. Welcome to Harbor Regional Center.

Since this visionary dragon runs the training there is a certain aura and mythology that surrounds it. Adhere to the following advice before the first session: Don’t wear jeans, Don’t under any circumstances be late, and if you value your job, Don’t bring a cell phone. She likes to call on people randomly and demands slavish attention and understated but intense enthusiasm.

There was homework and group projects and visits to sites in the community. There was a time or two that I felt like I was back in the seventh grade and Sister Marilyn was on the warpath. Two people in my group had never met anyone with a disability before so it was a lot of new experiences for them.

The sessions were held in our largest conference room. I also call it the Igloo. It is insanely cold in there. Even the men, traditionally less afflicted with the chills, keep their coats on. Last time I had a training in that location led by someone slightly more warm and fuzzy, I brought my fleece blanket with me. Seriously.

All of this culminated in a final group presentation. We were told to “make it fun.” I had trouble interpreting exactly what this meant. Here’s why.

One of our sessions had the different groups we were divided into for the duration competing to answer questions and in the absence of buzzers like in game shows such as Jeopardy we were given an animal noise to make. My group was the pigs so we were supposed to oink loudly to be called on to answer. This was “fun.“ I sat there, shivering and a few things popped into my partially thawed mind:

1. How old am I?
2. Did I take acid this morning?
3. Why did I take a job where the accepted idea of fun is to make animal sounds?
4. Are there any children in the vicinity?

Since the answer to the last question was "no" I resolved not to make a peep. Sorry, I mean a sound. It was a line in the sand for me. Standards must be maintained. I’m not sure what standard that is but I am going to maintain it. If I was in a room full of children I have been known to make a complete fool of myself without a second thought. Here it is a different story altogether. Besides I think my vocal cords were frozen.

A group member or two were a bit irritated with me as my lack of vocal assistance made it difficult for our oinking to overcome the cows behind us (it is very easy to moo very loudly) and I struggled to control my facial expression as not to give away my exasperation as a debate began by the complaining sheep who claimed it was difficult to baa as loudly as the moo-ers and that their underperformance was due to the nature of their assigned animal sound.

I did not oink. We did not win. I did not care.

Besides this ridiculous shenanigans I did learn some valuable things, some of which was related to the history of the regional centers.

It was only forty years ago that people with disabilities received very few services or supports and their families basically had two options: keep their disabled child at home and figure out how to provide them with the care and supervision they needed or commit them to a state hospital, where they would basically be warehoused, often in sub human conditions.

Schools were not required to provide any education to these children. There was a social stigma associated with having a child with a disability and their futures were universally considered to be bleak.

A landmark law, the Lanterman Act, was passed by the California legislature, and the regional center system was created with help by a bipartisan committee. It placed the state’s responsibility for people with disabilities at diagnosis instead of if and when they entered a state hospital.

What is shocking is that this is really was not that long ago. Parents were the driving force for this movement. They created advocacy and support organizations that lobbied for services for people with disabilities and their families. The sense of shame and social stigma was addressed when President Kennedy openly discussed his disabled sister and became involved with the creation of programs for people with special challenges.

It wasn’t until 1971 that the Supreme Court affirmed the right to education at public expense for children with disabilities. Congress passed Individuals with Disabilities Education Act in 1975 which created free and individualized education in the least restrictive environment and thereby enabled my former life as an interpreter for hearing impaired children.

These families and various other groups continued to fight for rights and services. We have shifted from an emphasis on "fixing" them to the belief that people with disabilities can live, learn, work and socialize in the environment of their choice as long as supports are given.

These groups are up against the cultural belief that people with disabilities are not as worthy to as rich of a life as we are and that they are fortunate instead of entitled to receive the supports they need to have a good quality of life. We recently had a speaker at work who spoke about all the jobs performed in the children’s hospital she manages by people with disabilities. These individuals perform better than their regularly developing coworkers due to their unique talents. She described how accommodations made for them have lead to an improvement in the overall systems of the various departments.

California is the only state that offers the regional center system and guarantees these services to its residents. The 21 regional centers service more than 200,000 individuals and their families with developmental disabilities, epilepsy, cerebral palsy and autism. The supports provided by the regional centers has enabled countless people to live with their families and in the community instead of in facilities and enriched their lives in equally countless ways.

California’s voters recently voted down several propositions meant to raise extra money to balance the budget. We have a 21 billion dollar deficit, which is a scary thing for the 8th largest economy in the world. It is scary for our clients as the deficit must now be ameliorated by cuts in state services, and scary too, frankly, for people with jobs like mine.

I recently started a new book. In the second chapter the main character’s mother states, “Bureaucracy nullifies kindness at every step.” Working at this job has both proved and disproved this statement. I have been frustrated by the procedures and emphasis on financial concerns. I have seen remarkable caring and support to people with disabilities by skilled and good hearted coworkers.

I did miss one of the sessions of NSO when I was struck down with the “Wisconsin Flu.“ I recently went (read: sneaked) home for a four day Wedding Whirlwind. I had my first experience with the red eye flight and bridal brain mush. During my trip my wedding team (Mom and friend/wedding planner Becca) and I accomplished the following:

Tasted both caterers that serve our chosen venue
Met with the wedding coordinator at said venue, with Fearless Hero conferencing on speaker phone
Went to two cake tastings
Tried on veils
Found wedding jewelry
Met with a photographer
Bought several gifts
Found a good candidate for wedding shoes
Visited my brother and grandmother, who is currently very concerned that I have not yet purchased said shoes (though she calls them ‘slippers’; she’s so cute)
Registered at a favorite store in Cedarburg
Bought two purses (non wedding related but one can’t be focused all the time)

The best part was the brunch organized by my mother for the lovely ladies in my life. It was very non shower like, per bridal command, and was a lovely afternoon of girly bonding. I loved having people together and having the different people in my life meet each other. There was chicken salad on croissants, which is one of the pinnacles of culinary goodness in my opinion, and lots of sweets. Of course. I am always touched by how much people will go out of their way to accommodate my visits and appreciated the many kind gestures and well wishes during the day.

As the last cake tasting was on the morning of my departure I was even able to bring some of the cake home for Fearless Hero and we had our own tasting the day after I got back.

As I mentioned before, I am currently reading a fantastic new book called "The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet" by Reif Larsen. I have read all the books by my new favorite L.A. author and have been quite unsuccessful with finding books at the local libraries lately. Remember when you were in grade school and your best friend was out sick and your day seemed longer and somewhat strange without her there? I feel this kind of disorientation and emotionally bereftness (bereftity? berefticity?) without an engaging book to escape into.

My favorite line from this book so far was from the sister of the main character, a 12 year old cartographer who maps just about everything (and whose various diagrams and side notes are illustrated in the margins), who talks about the “room-feeling” of the family’s living room. This concept is similar to a person’s aura, and states that every room is a sensory smorgasbord that one must experience firsthand to understand.

Currently our apartment-room gives off the feeling of !Cluttered! I regularly patrol (even though we all know I am hardly qualified to be chief of police in this area) and apprehend violators but there are a number of repeat offenders and if I don’t stop buying shoes in my quest for comfortable options (I have my late Grandma Adelman’s feet; this will explain much to several people reading this) we may be forced to store them all in the trunk of my car.

In my search for new books and authors, a recent segment on new books caught my attention while I was listening to NPR one morning. "School of Essential Ingredients" by Erica Bauermeister is about eight people who come to a cooking school. One example of the kinds of things the instructor teaches is that she believes that all couples should bake their wedding cake together before they get married. If this indeed was a requirement many couples would change their minds. Fearless Hero and I have decided that we will not feel truly married until we have paid several hundred dollars for a cake. I would love to give this one a try; though it’s highly possible that our lives are quite full enough of challenges for the moment.

The instructor tries to teach the students that it isn’t what you cook but how you cook. Fearless Hero is a good example of this. On his new Superhero regime he is cooking often and avoiding a variety of much-loved foods. He could grumble and complain at the work and the restrictions. But he manages to approach it with a light heart. Yes, it matters that it is vegetables instead of greasy pizza that he is cooking. But its just as important for his mental health that he is able to maintain this positive attitude.

I have not read this book yet but am interested in checking it out. In the meantime I scored the other day at the Manhattan Beach library and now have a stockpile of books at home. Shhhh, can you hear them? They are calling me to come home crack their spines and dive in.

I went to the library in the El last Sunday anticipating a quiet hour amongst the stacks. I can’t imagine my face when I walked in and was confronted with music and singing and huge crowds blocking most of the shelves during an author fair. It offended every library sensibility I possess. Though it was lovely to see fellow readers chatting with various local authors. I was relieved to see that books are a love shared by many others but I was also relieved to leave and try to recover from the trauma.

When I come to power (and I will) I will institute a law that will require employers to give their workers days off for new reasons. I came up with this idea with the recent load of books. One of the days would be “The book I’m reading is way too good so I can’t possibly go to work” day. The other motivation was spending time with my friend Laurie’s 2 year old daughter Maddie the other day. I can clearly understand the need for a “My kid is way to cute I can’t possibly leave them and go to work” day. Maddie astounds me with her intelligence and warms my heart with her sweetness and sense of wonder. We had a particularly fun round of I Spy in a local shop. “Hi Auntie Beth come on upstairs I’m eating peaches” is a wonderful antidote to “You will be doing a group presentation. Make it fun.”

My body has continued to make things difficult and the newest wonder drug I am on has so far resulted in a whole lotta nothing. I dream of a life where I don’t struggle so hard for every day gifts like a pain free day and miss the places and people I’m used to going to and being with when I am particularly sickly.

I recently went shopping of my own free will on a Friday night after work ( I know I know - me?! Just how sick is she?!) to continue my quest at appropriate clothing for both my job and the California weather. Due to my temperature regulation deficiencies this too has turned into a quest. I was astonishingly productive but in retrospect I am not sure if it is due to true fortune or satisfying some sort of need for comfort or progress or distraction.

A few days after my binge I found an article that described recent research which discovered a strong connection between feelings of sadness and willingness to spend money on stuff - more money, in fact, than people would pay for stuff if they weren’t sad. Oh how I wish that cuter outfits led to emotional stability. I guess it was worth a shot.

A kind coworker recently lent me a book to try and help me with my struggle with migraines etc. It outlines the mental causes for physical illness and the metaphysical ways to overcome them. The best I can do for now is my coffee mug at work that says “love the moment” on the inside rim. I am not quite ready to accept culpability for everything that is wrong with the various systems of my body; though I do acknowledge the powerful mind-body connection. This coworker actually gave me the book in the hopes that it would help me and hoping that I could pass it on to help others. Such a nice messenger from the Universe that made for brighter day.

It’s not what you cook but how you cook. It’s not that the weekend will be a perfect specimen of free time and enjoyment but that I have the break and people to share it with. It’s not that I will feel sensational but that I will still be able to do some of the things I love.

And I won’t have to oink.