Unknown Cause

Unknown Cause

The artwork is a line drawing in marker with colored pencils for emphasis. The piece shows the merging of health, struggles with addiction, pain and diagnosis with visuals of a bloodstream flowing through pills, flowers, plants, quotes, medical bills, and diagnoses, some from doctors and some from friends, family, or acquaintances. Text: Live and Let Live; "fight flight and freeze behaviors are unconsciously reflexive"; Robotic laparoscopic hysterectomy; emotional abuse; Disorder, Unspecified 300.02; Insurance Denial; "What story are you telling yourself"; This, too, shall pass; to remove the uterus (womb); patient balance- $29,886.61, insurance balance; "When pain becomes chronic, the nervous system naturally becomes overactive"; pain 1-5 (worst); Depressive Disorder; "There is so much we don't know, and to write truthfully about your life, your own or your mother's... is to engage repeatedly with those patches of darkness, those nights of history, those places of unknown...(R.Solnit); post traumatic stress disorder.
The artwork is a line drawing in marker with colored pencils for emphasis. The piece shows the merging of health, struggles with addiction, pain and diagnosis with visuals of a bloodstream flowing through pills, flowers, plants, quotes, medical bills, and diagnoses, some from doctors and some from friends, family, or acquaintances. Text: Live and Let Live; “fight flight and freeze behaviors are unconsciously reflexive”; Robotic laparoscopic hysterectomy; emotional abuse; Disorder, Unspecified 300.02; Insurance Denial; “What story are you telling yourself”; This, too, shall pass; to remove the uterus (womb); patient balance- $29,886.61, insurance balance; “When pain becomes chronic, the nervous system naturally becomes overactive”; pain 1-5 (worst); Depressive Disorder; “There is so much we don’t know, and to write truthfully about your life, your own or your mother’s… is to engage repeatedly with those patches of darkness, those nights of history, those places of unknown…(R. Solnit); post traumatic stress disorder.

Meet the artist


Solomon, she/her, an artist
Solomon, she/her, artist

About the artist:

Stephanie Solomon (she/her) is the new Youth Program Coordinator with the Indiana Coalition Against Domestic Violence.  She spent over 3 years as Prevention Coordinator with the Youth Services Bureau of Monroe County, with a focus on promoting healthy relationships and environments for youth and families.  She is a graduate of Indiana University with 19 years of experience in the social service sector and is currently pursuing a Master’s in Public Health at Indiana University.  Stephanie is an adult ally with the Kaleidoscope Youth Community. She is passionate about primary prevention and building spaces that promote belonging for youth and families.  She enjoys karaoking to Barbara Streisand songs.

About the art:

The artwork is a line drawing in marker with colored pencils for emphasis.  The piece shows the merging of health, struggles with addiction, pain and diagnosis with visuals of a bloodstream flowing through pills, flowers, plants, quotes, medical bills, and diagnoses, some from doctors and some from friends, family, or acquaintances.  Text: Live and Let Live; “fight flight and freeze behaviors are unconsciously reflexive”; Robotic laparoscopic hysterectomy; emotional abuse; Disorder, Unspecified 300.02; Insurance Denial; “What story are you telling yourself”; This, too, shall pass; to remove the uterus (womb); patient balance- $29,886.61, insurance balance; “When pain becomes chronic, the nervous system naturally becomes overactive”; pain 1-5 (worst); Depressive Disorder; “There is so much we don’t know, and to write truthfully about your life, your own or your mother’s… is to engage repeatedly with those patches of darkness, those nights of history, those places of unknown…(R.Solnit); post traumatic stress disorder.

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From Today to Service… Other Above Self, From Oath to Death

Content caution: discussion of service to the United States as a veteran

From Today to Service… Other Above Self, From Oath to Death

I returned from a deployment to Afghanistan in 2010, yet there is a day in 2017 which has persisted in my mind with more fervor than any experience I had on deployment.  It was during the summer while I was on the road driving between appointments; I had to pull over.  That day was hard. Nothing prompted it, nothing startled me, and nothing could stop it once it started, at least nothing I had been able to figured out up to that point.  The flashback was as follows:

“Still getting my bearings of what my new position would be and the command structure I was going to fall under, the front gate to my base was attacked, my only solace was the Kevlar around me, the bunker I was in and the M-16 I carried.  I hadn’t even met the people I was going to be working with yet.  I was 25 years old when I sat down with a lawyer to draft my will… the gravity of my voluntary act finally sinking in. I turned 26 before I deployed… “Would I make it to 27?” crossed my mind more than I can count; and it was only day 3 of more than 270 left.”

By in large, my deployment was moderately uneventful save for several incidents: but this is not about them; this is about that day in 2017… and Today, and every day for that matter.

The thoughts and feelings never go away.  The memories and stories of people you knew never leave you.  The acts of honor, valor, heroism you saw or heard follow you.  There are countless other nuances and seemingly insignificant details of normally routine, often benign duties which craft the entirety of one’s memories.  What is the hardest for me, more often than not, is what all of it stood for and what it means to serve.  Forget the hate, the pop culture, the politicians, the money, the reasons why, the facts, the lies… NONE of it makes a difference.  Our Brother’s and Sister’s make the difference, Our ideals matter, Our values are significant… Our heritage is why we are proud.

When a fallen military member is laid to rest, a flag is presented to the next of kin…

“On behalf of the President of the United States, the [branch of service] and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your son’s / daughter’s / husband’s / wife’s honorable and faithful service and sacrifice.”

A grateful nation… many in society have forgotten how to act as part of a grateful nation.  Mass social media perverts these stories and glorifies rebellion, dishonor, and disrespect.  While these stories are not really the highlight of our society, the preservation of our Constitution (for which I fought) the First Amendment being part of it, allows for personal opinion.

Upon returning, I kept focusing on being productive, keeping my mind occupied, pushing all the bad stuff out.  Maybe that’s why my processing of deployment didn’t start until 6 years after getting back.  Now I deal with this when it comes up. I see my wife and family and love where my life has been to get me here.  I’m very proud of my service and continue to give myself in service to them, other veterans and my community.

However, when days like that happen… It’s very hard… you won’t know I’m going through it.  You don’t know I struggle to see my computer screen through the tears.  You don’t notice me pull to the side of the road because I forgot what I was doing or where I was headed.  You don’t see me avoid crowds.  You don’t see my head on a swivel.  You don’t see me hide my red face to avoid questions or sympathy.  I don’t want sympathy.  I don’t want to be known for my ailment.  I want to be known and recognized for my work, not for how my past affects me.  You don’t know what it means to be free the way a Veteran knows.  You don’t know the cost of keeping you free… you don’t know how we still pay the price long after returning for you to enjoy the liberties available to you.  You don’t know I would do it all again. You don’t know I would still die to protect you.

Only those who serve can truly understand this next quote:

“For those that will fight for it…FREEDOM …has a flavor the protected shall never know.” – L/Cpl Edwin L. “Tim” Craft, B Co 3rd AT’s, Khe Sanh Combat Base, February, 1968

Today happens, tomorrow will be better; but is that really how we are meant to live?  I know you can only take it a day at time when you’re dealing with your past, but there has to be more… Purpose does exist, so how do we find it?  How can we get our dignity back?

The story above is an illustration of the listless mental anguish which remains hidden from an ignorant society. The burden we carry so others may live in peace.  What follows is my own personal journey to find that meaning and interpret my purpose.  The days may have gone by, the past continues to get further away, however, there is one thing – one feeling – which never escapes; one which will never find peace – “Honor”

“I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend The Constitution of The United States…”

This one statement alone, binds us to a life of service.  Oh, what little understanding we have of this phrase when we first commit to it on day one.  As our duty time passes, we gain an ever-increasing understanding of what we’ve been called to do.  It is in Article I of the Military Code of Conduct where one understands better the first line of our Oath;

“… guard my Country and our way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense.”

But what truly is ‘our way of life?’  One need only look to our Declaration of Independence – our way of LIFE endowed to us, the individual LIBERTY [and responsibility] to be accountable for our own decisions as we journey on our PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS.  This description also embodies Article VI of the Code of Conduct;

“… I am an American, fighting for freedom, responsible for my actions, and dedicated to the principles which made my country free… “

We come to live and breathe this sense of purpose, to fulfill a mission, to protect America and her citizens from all enemies, foreign and domestic – this is our Honor, we were never asked, we never question, we no longer know any other way.  So when our time comes to trudge forward and pass on this duty to those who have and will come after us, we entrust them, we pity them because we know the burden they take, we are proud to call them family; but what of us?

When our requirements are now to assimilate as a civilian again, society expects us to ‘just go back to the way things were before you joined.’  Let me explain the absurdity of this suggestion – When I joined, I was 17 years old, not even out of high school when I signed papers and took the Oath for the first time.  The majority of our enlisted experience the same situation – to make this suggestion knowing what we know, doing the things we’ve done, and seeing the things we’ve seen (good and bad), is the most misunderstood, unrealistic, and wretched expectation of our Veterans.

“I can’t speak for all Veterans, but I can share my story in the hope it inspires others to not be defined by their past, and take ownership of the present to shape the future they are destined to manifest.”

Leaving the service is a struggle which cannot be explained.  I was part of something so big, entrenched in the corners of our globe, a cog in the greatest defense machine the world has ever known, fighting against the terror which edited our world forever on that fateful date in September… and just like that, I was done.  Where would I find that mission to be a part?  What vision could motivate me as I once was?  What greater purpose did I now serve?

“The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision.” – Helen Keller.

After going through the motions of what I surmised was expected of me, I by sheer happenstance tumbled into the world of philanthropy.  I began by helping teens overcome their addictions and coached them towards deciding a better life for themselves.  Not aware of the gravity encountered in that line of work, I was also ethically tested.  Prior to my southern excursion, I too had made a poor decision when returning from a deployment, landing me on the wrong side of the courtroom; for almost two years I struggled to keep my head above water.

“Character is how others would describe you, Integrity is who you really are when others aren’t looking – strive to be better than the way people describe you.”

Don’t be afraid to walk away from a bad situation you have no control over.  Doing so helped define the next ten years of my life.  Nearing homelessness and holding my pride while I walked into that Martin County United Way in only shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops, I met someone with a passion fueled by the thousands of people she undoubtedly helped in her career.  Her dedication was radiant and easily transferable; she became the leader who would mold me into a new mission, who would instill in me the greater purpose I so desperately had been seeking – she saw the best in me when I felt I was at my worst, her name was Carol.  The greatest leaders bring out the best in others – I’m not sure she knows just what she is responsible for, but I’ll forever be grateful for the opportunity she gave me to work for, and learn from her.

While serving my communities, unbeknownst to me, a greater purpose was creeping in – one which I believe we are all intended to ultimately focus on and fulfill – but I digress.  For the last ten years, I have dedicated my work to improving the lives of those less fortunate in our society.  With an obvious affinity for working with Veterans, I became a Legacy Life Member of the VFW and now hold an officer position at a local post.  My experiences culminated in being selected as the Executive Director for a newly formed nonprofit, My 22 Veterans, aimed at reducing Veteran suicide.

After ten years in non-profit support work, I have begun shifting to my ultimate purpose.  I was built to serve – helping to improve the lives of those less fortunate, especially Veterans – but my ultimate Mission is to look after and provide for my family.  Every decision I make is to improve our family – this is my Honor – cherishing, protecting, and nourishing the gifts our Ultimate Commander in Chief has blessed me with.  By serving them, I serve him.

“As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” – Joshua 24:15

Service comes in many ways and we each find our own purpose in our own time.  And while it may take time after leaving the military, the best purpose comes from those you keep in your company and those you get the fortune to build a life with.

By Marco A. Cuevas, USN Veteran (OEF ’09-’10)
JR My 22, Inc., Executive Director

Disabled and Proud

When I roll through a door With my son in my lap,

I don’t deserve your praise, so please don’t clap.

The looks of pity and horror Hurt too, you see

Because be it your praise or fear Be it a cheer or a leer,

One thing is always clear,

You’re singling me out for my disability, And living life is no inspiration.

Do my words give you clarity? Clarity not needed by my son.

 

I live life from a wheelchair That gives full independence. I know you see it or hear it,

And of my chair you’re fully aware So can you just give full acceptance

To me in my chair?

Because I promise my son can see and feel The fear behind your stare.

 

I’m not so different from you.

I get happy.

I get frustrated.

I get sappy.

I get infantilized.

I get mad.

I feel all the feels Tell me how living on wheels Makes me different from you?

Being a momma on wheels Is nothing strange,

And I promise my son doesn’t wish me to change.

 

 

For 29 months I nursed my son On wheels.

I chase my son On wheels.

I discipline my son On wheels.

I cook for my husband and son On wheels.

I change my son On wheels.

I say prayers for and with my son On wheels.

 

 

You see the wheels I live on aren’t all-defining Suffocating or confining.

They are a disabled mom’s All access pass

To her toddler’s world,

A world full of peace and calm

And also a world full of giggles and sass.

 

 

My name is Megan. I am disabled, I am Lebanese,

I have Cerebral Palsy, I am legally blind,

I am from the U.S.A., I am a wife,

I am a mother, I am a writer,

And of ALL that makes me ME

I am PROUD!

About this poem: I wrote this poem after my husband and I had to have our first conversation with our two-year-old son about ableism. He asked, “Why people so mean ‘cause momma sit? Momma tell them mean.” After our family conversation, I wrote this in response to my son’s question. I hope this little poem helps people to realize that societal ableism is still taught and fostered today. Many people may be unaware that they are fostering ableism, but the hard, sad truth is that they are. My husband was internally ableist for a long period of time not because ableist thoughts were purposefully passed down and placed on his shoulders, but because family unknowingly continue ableism’s terrible legacy.

Meghan Deahl with her husband and son
This is a picture of Megan Deahl, her husband, and son.

Abput the Author:

Hi! My name is Megan Deahl! I am a wife, momma, writer, disability advocate, animal lover, and avid crafter. Do you have questions about ableism? Please feel free to email me at deahldisabilityactivism@gmail.com. We can only eradicate ableism through education.

All That Is Mine Is Yours

I am sharing this project with all of you because I want to show the beauty of parenting with a disability and the beauty of being a child with a disability. I want to show the joy that my unique family shares. This project will probably continue as my son grows. I hope to share with him the same kind of amazing experiences I was given. I also hope to give him some that are all his own.

We adopted our son three years ago from the other side of the world. I found my son when searching the Internet. I read about a little boy who was so sweet and kind and had the cutest smile. As I read further, I found out that he had the same disability as me, spinal muscular atrophy. It felt like the stars were aligning. I had found our child.I am sharing this project with all of you because I want to show the beauty of parenting with a disability and the beauty of being a child with a disability.

We brought him home after a year-long process. When my husband brought him home from a 12-hour flight and I got him in my arms at the airport, I never let him go. I still watch with wonder as he grows into an amazing young man. I try to shield him from the hurts of life as best I can and at least let him know that I’ve been there before.

I started this project when I was going through photographs from my childhood. I noticed that there were a lot of photos of me growing up that matched photos we now have of my son. I wanted to show the journey we are both taking side-by-side. I wanted to show him that the love in our family is full-circle, and circles never stop.

Please tap/click on the pictures to’enlarge and view them.

In this picture of Katrina, she's in her power chair, wearing brownish glasses, a white long sleeved top, blue jeans, and high black boots. She has white skin, 
blue and purple curly hair. She's also smiling.
In this picture of Katrina, she’s in her power chair, wearing brownish glasses, a white long sleeved top, blue jeans, and high black boots. She has white skin,
blue and purple curly hair. She’s also smiling.

Katrina Gossett Kelly wears several hats. She is an attorney at Faegre Baker Daniels in Indianapolis, specializing in the complexities of e-discovery and trade secret litigation. She also performs improv at ComedySportz Indianapolis and serves as a disability advocate throughout Indiana. Her favorite job of all, however, is being mom to her nine-year-old son who is also growing into a disability advocate in his own right. Katrina lives in downtown Indy with her son, two dogs, and a cat.