I’m thankful for my Down Syndrome’s daughter’s first 44 years. A humane society made her transition into adulthood relatively painless.  During the dawn of the one-percenters, however, that care is insidiously being compromised.  Much as the mentally ill years ago were shoved out into the community, many of them from the only homes they had ever known; so too the community workshops, where they gather with their friends,  labor at tasks of which they are capable, and dine together are in the process of being closed down.

Some excuses sound rational, many smell of politics.  A humane cultural endeavor of which our communities could be proud is being demolished.  We were so lucky that our Downs daughter was born during an era which offered hope for a consructive future for the mentally challenged–or disabled, or handicapped, or retarded–however you wish to label them.  It’s reached beyond the silent political stage in which the deconstructionists had a head start in paving the way for scraping a humanitarian system that was beautifully engineered and carried out. And the community felt good about the caring they showed.  Now this is ugly, and the ends don’t justify the means of supporting a system to pamper the oligarchy.