Kathi Wolfe

July 26, 1990, was a life-changing day for people like me. Twenty-five years ago, the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was signed into law. If you’re able-bodied, you may not realize how life-changing the ADA has been for people with disabilities.

I'm lesbian and I'm cheering as I write!

Today is a historic day for gay and lesbian Americans.

In a victory for gay rights, the United States Supreme Court has just issued two decisions backing marriage equality. For the first time, the nation's highest court has said that we're equal under the law.


Gays and lesbians know that we still have a long way to go in our struggle for equality. Yet, we’re proud that we’ve come this far.

The legalization of same-sex marriage in New York represents a milestone in the struggle for equality for gays and lesbians, but we’re not at the finish line yet.

This is a great day for America. At last, gay men and lesbians willing to die for our freedom won’t have to lie about who they are.

The “Hide/Seek” exhibit initially was a statement of how far our society has come in the last two decades. But the decision to pull the video is a chilling reminder of how tenuous this progress has been.

Aug. 4 was a joyous day for gay and lesbian Americans. It was the day U.S. District Court Judge Vaughn R. Walker overturned Proposition 8, California’s ban on same-sex marriage.


By Kathi Wolfe

Twenty years ago, on July 26, 1990, President George H. W. Bush signed the Americans with Disabilities Act into law and changed millions of lives for the better — including mine.

When I was growing up legally blind before the ADA, no one thought that people with disabilities had civil rights.

If you were deaf and hospitalized, chances are you wouldn’t have had a sign-language interpreter.

If you used a wheelchair, chances are you wouldn’t have been able to get into most buildings or onto most public buses or trains or subways.

If soldiers are willing to sacrifice their lives for us, the least we can do is permit them to be open about who they are.


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Trump's politics are not the problem.

The fiery Milwaukee Sheriff is on the shortlist to head the Department of Homeland Security.

By Wendell Berry

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something 
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know. 
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord. 
Love the world. Work for nothing. 
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it. 
Denounce the government and embrace 
the flag. Hope to live in that free 
republic for which it stands. 
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man 
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion—put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth? 
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn’t go. Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

Wendell Berry is a poet, farmer, and environmentalist in Kentucky. This poem, first published in 1973, is reprinted by permission of the author and appears in his “New Collected Poems” (Counterpoint).

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