Get REAL
This post was contributed by Michael Morris, Executive Director of The National Disability Institute and cofounder of The Real Economic Impact Tour.
Real people, real challenges. From individuals with disabilities to parents and family members to teachers and support coordinators to rehabilitation counselors… the search for reliable financial information can be daunting. Where do you start? Who can you trust?
After all, when it comes to work and income production, fears of loss of eligibility for public benefits, tax credits and deductions, savings and trusts, Ticket to Work, asset, budget and credit debt management, individual development accounts, income opportunities, and self-employment, real, expert answers and lessons are invaluable — and essential to your financial planning and realizing your dreams for financial freedom.
Here at Real Economic Impact, we believe in giving you real, reliable advice when it comes to your economic concerns. Which is why we’ve identified the leading money, legal, and financial experts from around the country and united them together at Get REAL (Reliable Experts, Answers & Lessons).
Our Get REAL blog series begins next month and we’re welcoming your questions now. Simply e-mail us at GetREAL@RealEconomicImpact.org with yours today.
And be sure to tell a friend — because building a better economic future for all is the first step in getting real.
From Dreams to Declarations
This post was contributed by Cindy Battles, a freelance writer based in Rutland, VT who’s been diagnosed with and managing bipolar disorder for many years.
As our national ethos, the American Dream takes many forms: homeownership, financial success, equality… and for some, the simple quest for normalcy. For Emmy and Peabody award-winning NPR and Dateline NBC correspondent John Hockenberry, that’s an unwavering commitment to his profession. Whether braving, as a paraplegic, what must’ve been a rickety balancing act on a donkey’s back, up treacherous, muddy, wartime Iraqi mountain terrain to navigating his wheelchair across the seemingly impassable desert sands, his grit and persistence proved integral to the achievement of his American Dream: a Declaration of Independence, wheelchair be damned.
Certainly, for anyone, war zone reporting requires unique tenacity and courage. But for Hockenberry, the day-to-day homeland battle for normalcy, to be treated the same as anyone else, called for its own superhuman strength. Imagine city cabbies who won’t pick you up, mothers telling their children not to look at you, passersby who don’t offer help while you’re struggling up the steps of the subway in a wheelchair. And still, Hockenberry quips, “One of the chief advantages of being in a wheelchair is always having an excuse not to go bowling.”
This sort of self-deprecating humor is likely familiar to many of us, as a defense mechanism, no matter what your ability. For example, I used to say I was “hitting High C,” a funny term my late father came up with, for when I started shaking and my anxiety went off the charts — enough to smash a glass! It beat “that’s just my mental illness,” which might instead engender the fear which so often accompanies the uncontrollable, the non-normalcy of living with a disability.
Hockenberry, too, was no stranger to what one might call a non-normalcy “grudge.” His mantra: “What’s possible in this world can only be found among the wreckage of the impossible.” I, for one, prefer a bit more positive spin, i.e., all obstacles are opportunities.
Nonetheless, Moving Violations: War Zones, Wheelchairs and Declarations of Independence is a triumphant reminder that whether it’s from the confines of a wheelchair or the ability to simply dream a different dream, no areas are off-limits. The result being: another (albeit prickly) hero, I’m proud to add to my list.
Cindy
Our $3600 Eye-Opener
This post was contributed by Michael Roush, National Project Director for the National Disability Institute and “Chief Financial Officer” of his family.
Six years ago, my partner and I decided that we would spend one year analyzing our spending habits. It was during a time when I was finishing up graduate school, we both were working full-time and had set our sights on a real estate purchase. As we began examining our finances, we soon realized that we didn’t really know where our money was going. The journey to document every penny that we were spending began.
First on the list, our beloved local coffee shop. We loved coffee, the atmosphere, and the people. It had been our go-to stop in the morning before work, our post-lunch pick-me-up, our evening meet-up spot with friends. What’s more was that it seemed as though similar alluring coffee shops were on every street corner, wickedly tempting us — we couldn’t resist.
At the end of one year of analyzing spending habits, we were surprised to discover that we‘d spent nearly $3600 (!) on coffee and treats. It was the end of an era. But… the beginning of our quest to become financially fit and to build a stable financial future for ourselves.
Constantly going back to the basics and analyzing our spending habits via our ever-illuminating (although sometimes disappointing) spending diary has been key to maintaining control over what I like to call our “own economy.” And these days, a multitude of online tools are available to make your “own economy” quest clickably easy. Mint.com, for example, is fantastic. Then there’s the saving grace of online banking — an automatic analysis of where your money goes each month, which you can see updated, every day. And our favorite, spendster.org, devoted to (ehem) impulse spending.
Consider the benefits of what it means to define your “own economy” and examine your spending habits for one month. Because no matter what your economic status or ability (or caffeine weakness), keeping track of where your money goes is wonderfully empowering and — occasionally — enlightening.
Lucky Man, Lucky Me
Lucky Man
Cynthia Battles is a 1979 graduate of Mount Saint Joseph Academy in Rutland, Vermont where she won the school’s English Award. She received a B.S. in Communications from the University of Pennsylvania’s Annenberg School for Communications in 1983 and an M.S. in Journalism from Columbia University’s Graduate School of Journalism in 1986. She is a freelance writer based in Rutland and has written for numerous Vermont newspapers and magazines.
Whatever your dream, the first step always stems from change.
It might be as difficult as radically rethinking ideals. Or as simple as re-examining the language you use to describe yourself. Fox’s first memoir, an apt example of both: not Parkinson’s Victim, not Fallen Hollywood Star… but Lucky Man? Yes, lucky. And, in the face of an incurable disease, he’s altered our misconceptions of illness, serving as much more than People Magazine fodder. From testifying before the Senate to creating the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research, Fox’s efforts have elevated a previously under-the-radar disease to the Washington-worthy attention it deserves.
The result, for me at least, has been that between Always Looking Up and Lucky Man, my first reaction to Fox’s story was, naturally, sympathy; the daily, hastily-popped pharmaceuticals, the squeeze of his young son’s hand — anything to try and mask those persistent shakes (having a left hand tremor myself, I’m no stranger to shoving it in my pocket in order to avoid awkward questions or requests to “calm down”).
Unexpected, however, was how my sympathy quickly turned to admiration. Fox’s decision to inspire conversation focused on his disease as opposed to continuing to hide it is the kind of different dream many of us aspire to: to be who we are.
Most surprisingly was the realization that Fox’s ability to not only dare to dream different but to also achieve different became his gift, his fortune — one might even say his luck. And, consequently, my hero.
Cindy
Dream a Different Dream
This post was contributed by Dr. Johnette Hartnett, Director of Strategic Partnership Development and Research for The National Disability Institute and Director of The Real Economic Impact Tour.
I only wish my parents were here today so I could formally apologize to them for not really understanding their lives and what they must have lived through. Both were born in the early 1920’s, prior to any civil rights, education and employment legislation for persons with disabilities. Both had disabilities.
Mom, a nurse who raised four children, contracted polio in her teens. Dad, a biochemist and college professor of 50 years, suffered cerebral palsy (CP).
Admittedly, as both a child and an adult I never heard my father’s slurred words or saw his uneven gait – I only recognized him as Dad — even when people pointed out to me his differences (“What’s wrong with them? Has he had a stroke? Is he drunk?”). Instead (perhaps as a defense mechanism against such insensitive questions), I would proudly boast that not only did Dad have CP but he was also an accomplished Ph.D in biochemistry who’s early work on cancer contributed to the identification of a new pancreatic enzyme.
Even today, when a colleague with a disability pulls me aside, asking, “What was it like to have parents with a disability?” it’s hard for me to think of my parents as “different.” But they were — in ways I didn’t know and have since only begun to understand.
In particular, I remember discovering Dad’s checkbook system after he died — a complicated jumble of numbers more complicated than the chemical tables he could list backwards. Considering that no financial education or money management was ever mentioned in our family, let alone any mention of disability or what it cost for my parents to navigate their lives in a world that basically ignored disability, perhaps this shouldn’t have come as a surprise; the resulting struggle in Dad’s last years to pay out of pocket for a staggering $72k/yr nursing home bill (in lieu of long-term care insurance) was difficult, to say the least.
Today’s generation is luckier, thanks in part to the Real Economic Impact Tour; since 2005, the REI Tour has provided free tax assistance to over 330k taxpayers with disabilities, saving them an estimated $66M in paid preparation fees. Very real economic impact.
And while this is just the beginning, our dream is to someday redesign the entire financial and tax system, so that regardless of one’s ability, access to financial information and services is easy; one less difference between us.
The 2010 Real Economic Impact Tour kicks off October 21. We hope you’ll join us in helping you make your dream real.
Looking to the Future
The ability to share in someone else’s dream – a great read gives me that, with the happy consequence of reigniting my own dreams.
Although, at first, I was a little wary of Michael J. Fox’s Always Looking Up: the Adventures of an Incurable Optimist. After all, Family Ties, Back to the Future… gotta admit, as an actor, he left me less than thrilled.
But as an author, you can officially count me his fan. Fox’s new glass-half-full sequel (see: Lucky Man) has had me up late most of this week, sympathizing with his challenges, cheering alongside his victories, and resolutely applying his infectious, won’t-quit optimism to my own life.
The simple power of a book. And the simple power of a person to keep at it, to choose to focus on talents vs. limitations.
Favorite Takeaways so Far:
1. All obstacles are opportunities. Okay, so you’ve heard this before: when one door shuts, another opens. But whether it’s living with a disability, losing a job, or being cut off in traffic, we can choose how to view each event in our lives, no matter how big or small. Like Fox, I choose opportunity!
2. Don’t hide, engage. A diagnosis of Parkinson’s could understandably drive anyone to give up, to lock the door and simply shut out the world — which, let’s face it, is what we all feel like doing some times, especially in the face of bad news. But Fox does the opposite. He flings the door wide open. He invites the world to share in his challenge and celebrate his life, no matter this devastating turn.
Keep at it. Always look up. It seems simple but it’s the kind of advice that keeps me living and dreaming every day.
Cindy a.k.a. Claire
Humility, Passion & Wisdom for Less Than 5 Lattes
Ten Things I Wish I'd Known Before I Went Out into the Real World
Whether you’re just getting started or setting off on a second or third career (as is the case for so many of us these days), the drive for success in the workplace and the courage one requires to achieve it is universal — disability or not.
Which is why for less than $14 (at most places) Maria Shriver’s new book gets my thumbs up; a real-life, down-to-earth compendium of million-dollar advice — the woman is an icon — for about a week’s worth of Starbucks (or if your library addict like me, free!).
My Top 3 (of her Top Ten):
1. No Job is Beneath You
There’s nothing like starting at the bottom teach you humility. Besides, how else would you know what you don’t like? It can only bring you that much closer to your passion.
2. Know Your Passion
Two-fold meaning here. “Know” as in get the facts, get educated; research the field you love. Also “know” as in trust your instincts; trust that you “know” best, i.e.: “go with your gut.”
3. Failure = Opportunity/Wisdom
Simply put, you lose, you learn. And God willing, you laugh (Shriver devotes a whole chapter to the power of a good guffaw). Hear hear!
Happy reading,
Cindy
Great Things to Come!
Hello world. This is the first test post for the brand spankin’ new Real Economic Impact Blog. You’ll be able to find some great content here, all focused on helping Americans with Disabilities and their families toward a better financial future!
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Stay tuned!
My story is about overcoming barriers to work. I have a condition which disables me, and so I have been receiving Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI) for more than five years. I thought I could never work again.
But recently, I proved myself wrong.
In the distant past, I tried about 25 different jobs, but because of the disabling condition I have, my jobs each only lasted about a year. I learned many different “entry-level” job related skills, but never had the ability to stay with a job. I wondered why I didn’t fit in and felt so different.
Because I couldn’t work, I applied for SSDI. I was so grateful and relieved when I began to receive income from the program. For more than five years, I received SSDI and did not work.
In order to fill my weekday, daytime schedule I would keep my apartment organized and clean, write correspondence, run errands, read, and generally keep busy.
A change was about to take place.
Slowly, I began to volunteer at a local social service center. At first I went one day a week: Wednesdays. I went for four hours in the afternoon. Things went well. Months passed. A year passed. I surprised myself when I asked to also volunteer on Monday afternoons. That went well, too.
I enjoyed the center, my co-volunteers, the supervisors, and the public. I enjoyed my work duties and the pace. I started feeling good there. I started to spruce up the place when I had a chance. This was such a good time for me. It was leading me to try more.
One day, an acquaintance, who worked for another social service agency in town, asked me if I would like to volunteer there part-time. I thought that just maybe it would be okay to try more. I surprised myself again when I said yes. I volunteered two days a week: Tuesdays and Thursdays.
I liked the job very much. The staff and public were nice to work with, the mission of the agency was terrific, and the environment was comfortable. I could handle the pace of the work. This place felt good to me.
After I volunteered there for three months, I decided to ask if they would pay me for my work. They agreed. I just finished working there part-time for the month of August, 2009, and I have several pay-stubs I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t taken each step, slowly but surely, toward employment.
I would recommend trying this step-by-step approach to anyone who feels like getting more involved in their community.
I still receive the same monthly check from Social Security, and I am still grateful and relieved to have that income. The income from my part-time job is minimal, but it means a lot to me. I don’t know where it will lead next.
Healthcare: Elena’s Story
“Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair but manifestations of strength and resolution.” — Kahlil Gibran
My last posting mentioned that Deborah Lisi-Baker, a leader in disability rights and Associate Director of the Center on Disability and Community Inclusion, was inspired by the writings of Kahlil Gibran. We can see why above.
Now let’s look at Elena, a friend of mine who lives alone in the third largest city of a rural state. How are her healthcare needs taken care of? She has a disability and is covered by Medicare and Medicaid. She feels mixed emotions, but is mostly content, about her healthcare decisions. Let’s listen to her story:
“So many of us are happy with our care,” she said. “We feel lucky and very grateful to have the care we do have, if it works for us, as it does for so many.
But what about when there are problems? We sometimes feel we are trapped and voiceless in our healthcare situations. Others in society can get second opinions, change doctors, and refuse treatments.
Some of us on Disability do not know whether we have these choices or not. Doubts or misunderstandings about the quality of care we are receiving may drive some to abandon their treatment partially or completely, or change treatments before they have a chance to work, possibly making a disability worse.
Other Disability recipients, especially those with illnesses like myself, may feel a stigma exists in the healthcare industry about their income or disability and, therefore, they may think their healthcare is inadequate, whether or not a stigma truly exists.
This may cause a downward spiral in satisfaction. I think people on Disability should be given very clear information about their rights concerning their healthcare.
Then there would be the best chance that they can find options in their healthcare (the way others in society find options), and therefore be healthier and happier.”
When asked if the asset limit on Medicaid has impacted her life, Elena said, “So far I have not saved much money, but someday, when I want to save more, it may become a problem. I save about $100 dollars sometimes.”
Elena said she lives Disability check to Disability check. For emergencies, she sometimes turns to family – her car, her teeth and glasses have been her biggest expenses.
She has not saved up an emergency fund and worries that someday, due to costs, she may even be forced to give up driving.
With healthcare costs, she has been lucky. “I got a referral to both my Primary Care Physician and my specialist and even luckier that they would both accept Medicare and Medicaid for payment,” she said. “Other specialists and hospitals almost all have accepted these insurances. Since I’ve been disabled, Medicaid and Medicare have always worked well for me. I have no complaints.”
In fact, Elena praises the care she has received. “Many excellent health care professionals truly seek to serve, no matter what the income of the patient. My dentist is also wonderful and accepts my Medicaid. Because I have bad teeth, I usually use up my Medicaid before the end of the year and have to pay out-of-pocket. I don’t mind because I like the continuity of care seeing my dentist only.”
Elena sums up: “My healthcare situation is good – my ideal would be if everybody shared the same coverage that I have. I truly believe it can be done. Also an ideal would be if I could learn more through preventive care so I could be educated about how to be healthier. These are the dreams of so many Americans, I believe.”
Thanks for sharing your story and your dreams with us, Elena.
Cool wishes,
Cindy
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