In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that my brush with greatness was more like an editorial luck of the draw. I was just one of many workshop presenters at last weekend’s Together We Can Conference hosted by Ask Resources and Disability Iowa.
Senator Tom Harkin, however, gave the morning’s keynote address. And for some strange reason, my bio was listed right below his on the speaker information sheet. Lest your knowledge of my active imagination makes you doubt the claim, consult the photo above.
Now, it’s also true that my proximity to the senator did not extend beyond the realm of print. I was not invited to sit at his table, though some people who later attended my workshops were, and that counts for something.
It’s also true that my skill with the iPad meant that taking the picture below was quite a distraction to the people at the table where we sat two tables away from the Senator’s table.
It’s also true that the distraction I created may have been the reason none of the people at my table came to my workshop. But I don’t want to talk about that.
Instead, I’d like to mention this truth to those who approve of Harkin’s politics and those who don’t. He introduced and managed the bill that created the Americans With Disabilities Act that was signed into law in 1994. Because of his work, public places are now accessible to all citizens.
That may not seem like much to you. But as the daughter of Harlan Stratton, a man who could not enter our public library, post office, or city hall, I know that what Harkin did was life-changing for many people. Because of that bill, parents who have disabilities can attend their children’s parent/teacher conferences. They can take their kids Christmas shopping. They can enjoy parks together and go swimming. All things my father couldn’t do with me and my siblings during the 1960s when we were growing.
Last Saturday, I realized I’ve been twice brushed by disability advocate greatness. First, by my father who didn’t get bitter because he was denied access to public buildings. Instead, he rolled outside in his wheelchair on warm, summer days so the kids in our neighborhood learned to put a face to disability. And second, by having my name listed next to the name of a Senator who wrote laws to make those buildings my dad couldn’t enter accessible to all.
To both men, I say the same thing: What an honor to have been in your presence.
