Donald’s mother described his behavior as odd, even going as far as to refer to Donald as her “hopelessly insane child”. After a recommendation from the Triplett’s family doctor, Donald was sent to an institution. Unable to care for their son at home, Donald’s parents thought of this as the best decision to get their son the help that they could not provide. The year was 1937, and Donald was only three years old.
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The first word that comes to mind when I hear the phrase “differently able” is strength. The terminology “differently able” is used to describe people who have disabilities or are handicapped. However, by using that phrase it gives a new found sense of optimism and provides a nondiscriminatory perceptive on those with disabilities.
When thinking of what I would write for my introductory Spork article, multiple news articles crossed my mind. I could write about movies and literature – their seemingly lack of showcased differences. I could talk about the people I meet in my day to day life. The people I see, observing and knowing. Then I thought about what affects me and my personal life. My fears and worries for a differently abled person who sits in my heart and home. This person is my little sister.
"Gabe then heard a small voice he hadn't heard in four year… and never expected to hear again.
“Angel…? Angel… it… it’s Cricket. I need you.” The last words broke into a wailing cry.
In the mid-1960s, a group of southern California doctors banded together. They were tired of seeing young girls in their Emergency Rooms, hemorrhaging or worse—from butchers in back alleys. Some of the butchers had some minimal medical training—others had nothing more than a supply of used wire coat hangers, and a lust for fast money.
The doctors bought a large hacienda where they could do abortions safely on the weekends. They just needed a group to transport the young girls across the border—both ways. Theirs, and the girls salvation came in the form of men that would be least expected to do such a thing—hardened bikers.
Every girl was given what looked like a tattoo on their arm—it was their name for the weekend.
Every biker had the same one name—Angel.
Based on events that are best remembered as—the bad days..."
The Gimp Berry bush I grow on has many branches, at least one branch representing all the various disabilities. The physical disability branch is where I am fortunate enough to be born as a tasty fruit. Nearby are branches for being blind and Deaf and so on, and from the major disability branches sprout smaller twigs...