Thursday, August 14, 2008

AGAINST SCHOOL - John Taylor Gatto

AGAINST SCHOOL
gattoharp.gif
How public education cripples
our kids, and why
By John Taylor Gatto
John Taylor Gatto is a former New York State and New York City Teacher of the
Year and the author, most recently, of The Underground History of American
Education. He was a participant in the Harper's Magazine forum "School on a Hill,"
which appeared in the September 2003 issue.
I taught for thirty years in some of the worst schools in Manhattan, and in some of the best, and during that time I became an expert in boredom. Boredom was everywhere in my world, and if you asked the kids, as I often did, why they felt so bored, they always gave the same answers: They said the work was stupid, that it made no sense, that they already knew it. They said they wanted to be doing something real, not just sitting around. They said teachers didn't seem to know much about their subjects and clearly weren't interested in learning more. And the kids were right: their teachers were every bit as bored as they were.
Boredom is the common condition of schoolteachers, and anyone who has spent time in a teachers' lounge can vouch for the low energy, the whining, the dispirited attitudes, to be found there. When asked why they feel bored, the teachers tend to blame the kids, as you might expect. Who wouldn't get bored teaching students who are rude and interested only in grades? If even that. Of course, teachers are themselves products of the same twelve-year compulsory school programs that so thoroughly bore their students, and as school personnel they are trapped inside structures even more rigid than those imposed upon the children. Who, then, is to blame?
We all are. My grandfather taught me that. One afternoon when I was seven I complained to him of boredom, and he batted me hard on the head. He told me that I was never to use that term in his presence again, that if I was bored it was my fault and no one else's. The obligation to amuse and instruct myself was entirely my own, and people who didn't know that were childish people, to be avoided if possible. Certainty not to be trusted. That episode cured me of boredom forever, and here and there over the years I was able to pass on the lesson to some remarkable student. For the most part, however, I found it futile to challenge the official notion that boredom and childishness were the natural state of affairs in the classroom. Often I had to defy custom, and even bend the law, to help kids break out of this trap.
The empire struck back, of course; childish adults regularly conflate opposition with disloyalty. I once returned from a medical leave to discover t~at all evidence of my having been granted the leave had been purposely destroyed, that my job had been terminated, and that I no longer possessed even a teaching license. After nine months of tormented effort I was able to retrieve the license when a school secretary testified to witnessing the plot unfold. In the meantime my family suffered more than I care to remember. By the time I finally retired in 1991, 1 had more than enough reason to think of our schools-with their long-term, cell-block-style, forced confinement of both students and teachers-as virtual factories of childishness. Yet I honestly could not see why they had to be that way. My own experience had revealed to me what many other teachers must learn along the way, too, yet keep to themselves for fear of reprisal: if we wanted to we could easily and inexpensively jettison the old, stupid structures and help kids take an education rather than merely receive a schooling. We could encourage the best qualities of youthfulness-curiosity, adventure, resilience, the capacity for surprising insightsimply by being more flexible about time, texts, and tests, by introducing kids to truly competent adults, and by giving each student what autonomy he or she needs in order to take a risk every now and then.
But we don't do that. And the more I asked why not, and persisted in thinking about the "problem" of schooling as an engineer might, the more I missed the point: What if there is no "problem" with our schools? What if they are the way they are, so expensively flying in the face of common sense and long experience in how children learn things, not because they are doing something wrong but because they are doing something right? Is it possible that George W. Bush accidentally spoke the truth when he said we would "leave no child behind"? Could it be that our schools are designed to make sure not one of them ever really grows up?
Do we really need school? I don't mean education, just forced schooling: six classes a day, five days a week, nine months a year, for twelve years. Is this deadly routine really necessary? And if so, for what? Don't hide behind reading, writing, and arithmetic as a rationale, because 2 million happy homeschoolers have surely put that banal justification to rest. Even if they hadn't, a considerable number of well-known Americans never went through the twelve-year wringer our kids currently go through, and they turned out all right. George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln? Someone taught them, to be sure, but they were not products of a school system, and not one of them was ever "graduated" from a secondary school. Throughout most of American history, kids generally didn't go to high school, yet the unschooled rose to be admirals, like Farragut; inventors, like Edison; captains of industry like Carnegie and Rockefeller; writers, like Melville and Twain and Conrad; and even scholars, like Margaret Mead. In fact, until pretty recently people who reached the age of thirteen weren't looked upon as children at all. Ariel Durant, who co-wrote an enormous, and very good, multivolume history of the world with her husband, Will, was happily married at fifteen, and who could reasonably claim that Ariel Durant was an uneducated person? Unschooled, perhaps, but not uneducated.
We have been taught (that is, schooled) in this country to think of "success" as synonymous with, or at least dependent upon, "schooling," but historically that isn't true in either an intellectual or a financial sense. And plenty of people throughout the world today find a way to educate themselves without resorting to a system of compulsory secondary schools that all too often resemble prisons. Why, then, do Americans confuse education with just such a system? What exactly is the purpose of our public schools?
Mass schooling of a compulsory nature really got its teeth into the United States between 1905 and 1915, though it was conceived of much earlier and pushed for throughout most of the nineteenth century. The reason given for this enormous upheaval of family life and cultural traditions was, roughly speaking, threefold:
1) To make good people. 2) To make good citizens. 3) To make each person his or her personal best. These goals are still trotted out today on a regular basis, and most of us accept them in one form or another as a decent definition of public education's mission, however short schools actually fall in achieving them. But we are dead wrong. Compounding our error is the fact that the national literature holds numerous and surprisingly consistent statements of compulsory schooling's true purpose. We have, for example, the great H. L. Mencken, who wrote in The American Mercury for April 1924 that the aim of public education is not
to fill the young of the species with knowledge and awaken their intelligence. ... Nothing could be further from the truth. The aim ... is simply to reduce as many individuals as possible to the same safe level, to breed and train a standardized citizenry, to put down dissent and originality. That is its aim in the United States... and that is its aim everywhere else.
Because of Mencken's reputation as a satirist, we might be tempted to dismiss this passage as a bit of hyperbolic sarcasm. His article, however, goes on to trace the template for our own educational system back to the now vanished, though never to be forgotten, military state of Prussia. And although he was certainly aware of the irony that we had recently been at war with Germany, the heir to Prussian thought and culture, Mencken was being perfectly serious here. Our educational system really is Prussian in origin, and that really is cause for concern.
The odd fact of a Prussian provenance for our schools pops up again and again once you know to look for it. William James alluded to it many times at the turn of the century. Orestes Brownson, the hero of Christopher Lasch's 1991 book, The True and Only Heaven, was publicly denouncing the Prussianization of American schools back in the 1840s. Horace Mann's "Seventh Annual Report" to the Massachusetts State Board of Education in 1843 is essentially a paean to the land of Frederick the Great and a call for its schooling to be brought here. That Prussian culture loomed large in America is hardly surprising, given our early association with that utopian state. A Prussian served as Washington's aide during the Revolutionary War, and so many German-speaking people had settled here by 1795 that Congress considered publishing a German-language edition of the federal laws. But what shocks is that we should so eagerly have adopted one of the very worst aspects of Prussian culture: an educational system deliberately designed to produce mediocre intellects, to hamstring the inner life, to deny students appreciable leadership skills, and to ensure docile and incomplete citizens 11 in order to render the populace "manageable."
It was from James Bryant Conant-president of Harvard for twenty years, WWI poison-gas specialist, WWII executive on the atomic-bomb project, high commissioner of the American zone in Germany after WWII, and truly one of the most influential figures of the twentieth century-that I first got wind of the real purposes of American schooling. Without Conant, we would probably not have the same style and degree of standardized testing that we enjoy today, nor would we be blessed with gargantuan high schools that warehouse 2,000 to 4,000 students at a time, like the famous Columbine High in Littleton, Colorado. Shortly after I retired from teaching I picked up Conant's 1959 book-length essay, The Child the Parent and the State, and was more than a little intrigued to see him mention in passing that the modem schools we attend were the result of a "revolution" engineered between 1905 and 1930. A revolution? He declines to elaborate, but he does direct the curious and the uninformed to Alexander Inglis's 1918 book, Principles of Secondary Education, in which "one saw this revolution through the eyes of a revolutionary."
Inglis, for whom a lecture in education at Harvard is named, makes it perfectly clear that compulsory schooling on this continent was intended to be just what it had been for Prussia in the 1820s: a fifth column into the burgeoning democratic movement that threatened to give the peasants and the proletarians a voice at the bargaining table. Modern, industrialized, compulsory schooling was to make a sort of surgical incision into the prospective unity of these underclasses. Divide children by subject, by age-grading, by constant rankings on tests, and by many other more subtle means, and it was unlikely that the ignorant mass of mankind, separated in childhood, would ever re-integrate into a dangerous whole.
Inglis breaks down the purpose - the actual purpose - of modem schooling into six basic functions, any one of which is enough to curl the hair of those innocent enough to believe the three traditional goals listed earlier:
1) The adjustive or adaptive function. Schools are to establish fixed habits of reaction to authority. This, of course, precludes critical judgment completely. It also pretty much destroys the idea that useful or interesting material should be taught, because you can't test for reflexive obedience until you know whether you can make kids learn, and do, foolish and boring things.
2) The integrating function. This might well be called "the conformity function," because its intention is to make children as alike as possible. People who conform are predictable, and this is of great use to those who wish to harness and manipulate a large labor force.
3) The diagnostic and directive function. School is meant to determine each student's proper social role. This is done by logging evidence mathematically and anecdotally on cumulative records. As in "your permanent record." Yes, you do have one.
4) The differentiating function. Once their social role has been "diagnosed," children are to be sorted by role and trained only so far as their destination in the social machine merits - and not one step further. So much for making kids their personal best.

5) The selective function. This refers not to human choice at all but to Darwin's theory of natural selection as applied to what he called "the favored races." In short, the idea is to help things along by consciously attempting to improve the breeding stock. Schools are meant to tag the unfit - with poor grades, remedial placement, and other punishments - clearly enough that their peers will accept them as inferior and effectively bar them from the reproductive sweepstakes. That's what all those little humiliations from first grade onward were intended to do: wash the dirt down the drain.

6) The propaedeutic function. The societal system implied by these rules will require an elite group of caretakers. To that end, a small fraction of the kids will quietly be taught how to manage this continuing project, how to watch over and control a population deliberately dumbed down and declawed in order that government might proceed unchallenged and corporations might never want for obedient labor.

That, unfortunately, is the purpose of mandatory public education in this country. And lest you take Inglis for an isolated crank with a rather too cynical take on the educational enterprise, you should know that he was hardly alone in championing these ideas. Conant himself, building on the ideas of Horace Mann and others, campaigned tirelessly for an American school system designed along the same lines. Men like George Peabody, who funded the cause of mandatory schooling throughout the South, surely understood that the Prussian system was useful in creating not only a harmless electorate and a servile labor force but also a virtual herd of mindless consumers. In time a great number of industrial titans came to recognize the enormous profits to be had by cultivating and tending just such a herd via public education, among them Andrew Carnegie and John D. Rockefeller.
Tre you have it. Now you know. We don't need Karl Marx's conception of a grand warfare between the classes to see that it is in the interest of complex management, economic or political, to dumb people down, to demoralize them, to divide them from one another, and to discard them if they don't conform. Class may frame the proposition, as when Woodrow Wilson, then president of Princeton University, said the following to the New York City School Teachers Association in 1909: "We want one class of persons to have a liberal education, and we want another class of persons, a very much larger class, of necessity, in every society, to forgo the privileges of a liberal education and fit themselves to perform specific difficult manual tasks." But the motives behind the disgusting decisions that bring about these ends need not be class-based at all. They can stem purely from fear, or from the by now familiar belief that "efficiency" is the paramount virtue, rather than love, lib, erty, laughter, or hope. Above all, they can stem from simple greed.
There were vast fortunes to be made, after all, in an economy based on mass production and organized to favor the large corporation rather than the small business or the family farm. But mass production required mass consumption, and at the turn of the twentieth century most Americans considered it both unnatural and unwise to buy things they didn't actually need. Mandatory schooling was a godsend on that count. School didn't have to train kids in any direct sense to think they should consume nonstop, because it did something even better: it encouraged them not to think at all. And that left them sitting ducks for another great invention of the modem era - marketing.
Now, you needn't have studied marketing to know that there are two groups of people who can always be convinced to consume more than they need to: addicts and children. School has done a pretty good job of turning our children into addicts, but it has done a spectacular job of turning our children into children. Again, this is no accident. Theorists from Plato to Rousseau to our own Dr. Inglis knew that if children could be cloistered with other children, stripped of responsibility and independence, encouraged to develop only the trivializing emotions of greed, envy, jealousy, and fear, they would grow older but never truly grow up. In the 1934 edition of his once well-known book Public Education in the United States, Ellwood P. Cubberley detailed and praised the way the strategy of successive school enlargements had extended childhood by two to six years, and forced schooling was at that point still quite new. This same Cubberley - who was dean of Stanford's School of Education, a textbook editor at Houghton Mifflin, and Conant's friend and correspondent at Harvard - had written the following in the 1922 edition of his book Public School Administration: "Our schools are ... factories in which the raw products (children) are to be shaped and fashioned .... And it is the business of the school to build its pupils according to the specifications laid down."
It's perfectly obvious from our society today what those specifications were. Maturity has by now been banished from nearly every aspect of our lives. Easy divorce laws have removed the need to work at relationships; easy credit has removed the need for fiscal self-control; easy entertainment has removed the need to learn to entertain oneself; easy answers have removed the need to ask questions. We have become a nation of children, happy to surrender our judgments and our wills to political exhortations and commercial blandishments that would insult actual adults. We buy televisions, and then we buy the things we see on the television. We buy computers, and then we buy the things we see on the computer. We buy $150 sneakers whether we need them or not, and when they fall apart too soon we buy another pair. We drive SUVs and believe the lie that they constitute a kind of life insurance, even when we're upside-down in them. And, worst of all, we don't bat an eye when Ari Fleischer tells us to "be careful what you say," even if we remember having been told somewhere back in school that America is the land of the free. We simply buy that one too. Our schooling, as intended, has seen to it.
Now for the good news. Once you understand the logic behind modern schooling, its tricks and traps are fairly easy to avoid. School trains children to be employees and consumers; teach your own to be leaders and adventurers. School trains children to obey reflexively; teach your own to think critically and independently. Well-schooled kids have a low threshold for boredom; help your own to develop an inner life so that they'll never be bored. Urge them to take on the serious material, the grown-up material, in history, literature, philosophy, music, art, economics, theology - all the stuff schoolteachers know well enough to avoid. Challenge your kids with plenty of solitude so that they can learn to enjoy their own company, to conduct inner dialogues. Well-schooled people are conditioned to dread being alone, and they seek constant companionship through the TV, the computer, the cell phone, and through shallow friendships quickly acquired and quickly abandoned. Your children should have a more meaningful life, and they can.
First, though, we must wake up to what our schools really are: laboratories of experimentation on young minds, drill centers for the habits and attitudes that corporate society demands. Mandatory education serves children only incidentally; its real purpose is to turn them into servants. Don't let your own have their childhoods extended, not even for a day. If David Farragut could take command of a captured British warship as a pre-teen, if Thomas Edison could publish a broadsheet at the age of twelve, if Ben Franklin could apprentice himself to a printer at the same age (then put himself through a course of study that would choke a Yale senior today), there's no telling what your own kids could do. After a long life, and thirty years in the public school trenches, I've concluded that genius is as common as dirt. We suppress our genius only because we haven't yet figured out how to manage a population of educated men and women. The solution, I think, is simple and glorious. Let them manage themselves.

Back to Gatto page

OR, click here to read a variant on John's views which might just offer a positive proposal for an educational alternative to high schools as currently organized.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

HOW TO DRIVE A CONSERVATIVE ABSOLUTELY CRAZY

"HOW TO DRIVE A CONSERVATIVE
ABSOLUTELY CRAZY"

by

"Carmen Steele"


10 Secrets From A Liberal Insider That Will Let You Win Every Battle With The Enemy!!


Publisher's note:

This work is the product of a series of conversations with a well known Liberal insider who wants this information to be published to encourage other Liberals during the "final struggle against the American System". This work is a distillation of those conversations which took place in 1998 and 1999 in several locations throughout the country.

"Carmen Steele" is a pseudonym for a nationally known figure in Liberal politics. This pseudonym is being used for reasons which will become obvious.

Wordkraft Publishing takes no stand on the words contained herein. We are only serving as the medium for their exposure. Make up your own mind.


1. SET UP "STRAWMAN" ARGUMENTS.

One of the best ways to win the day against a conservative and sow confusion is to set up a "Strawman" argument.

A "Strawman" argument is when you attempt to place the blame for the situation on a target that is not really to blame but is easy and convenient.

Example: One of the best strawman arguments of recent times is the one blaming Ronald Reagan for the outrageous deficits of the 1980's. (Of course, we know that it was really the Democrat controlled Congress that opened up the purse, but ... THAT IS NOT IMPORTANT!.) If you keep saying that your strawman is to blame and say it loud enough and long enough most people will begin to accept it as true.

2. CREATE CONFUSION.

This technique can drive the calmest conservative into a sputtering rage!!

If your foe is arguing about the budget and even mentions something like the military or education (it really doesn't matter) jump on it and start talking about that! If he calls you on it, ask him why he is afraid to talk about it? Start in on him. Don't let him get you back to the original topic. You must control the flow of the debate. You must set the guidelines (in your favor, of course).

If at some point it looks like he is getting to a valid truth, change the topic back to the original subject and accuse him of changing it to create confusion.


3. NAME CALLING AS A WEAPON

One of the classic devices that we "liberals" have used artfully for a long time is the "ad hominum" attack, i.e. "name calling".

One of the current favorite bad names is to call any conservative "mean-spirited". What does it mean? Who knows, who cares? It sounds bad, that's good enough. If your foe even mentions in passing anyone who could be considered a "minority", even it a positive way, that is the time to start calling him "bigot", "racist", "homophobe", "sexist", etc. (you already know the list of hot button words, I'm sure). Just make sure you call him those names with obvious outrage. Try to get the audience involved.

Another good word to call out is "judgemental" If your enemy states an opinion scream back that he or she is "being judgemental". Of course, your calling them "Judgemental" is in itself being judgemental. Don't worry about it. If they point this out, move onto one of the other tactics outlined here.


4. PHYSICALLY DISRUPT THE SCENE IF YOU LOSE GROUND.

If, for some reason, your opponent starts to make points (get the truth across) and you are unable to stop him verbally - stop him physically.

Of course, you never go into a public debate alone (See #6). Have a prearranged signal (I always like to use slamming my fist on the table) that tells your flaks to stand up and start yelling. Have them scream at your enemy to stop him from continuing. If he also has supporters in the house have your people start a fistfight. A good brawl will stop the debate and give you the opportunity to later publicly blame the other side for starting the violence.


5. MAKE UP STATS TO SUPPORT YOUR ARGUMENT.

Most people are impressed by statistics. If it sounds like it comes from an official record it must be true, right? Yeah, sure. Nobody ever goes back and checks the validity of any statistics. So, if you need some figures to support your argument ... make them up! They'll never catch you. I have turned hostile crowds around and utterly destroyed opponents by laying out facts and figures from totally nonexistent "official government reports".

This can also be done with quotes, but it is a bit trickier. Don't quote FDR as saying that "Hitler was a swell guy". Not even the most thickheaded prole would believe that. It should seem at least plausible.

I once quoted President Kennedy as saying that he "wouldn't be upset" if Cuba stayed "Red" as long as U.S. business interests could set up shop again. My opponent went nuts! He demanded to know the source of the quote. I ruffled through my notes and said that it came from "a transcript of an oval office conversation dated 6/3/63 that is publicly available at the Kennedy Library." Then I laughed at him and suggested that he "do his homework". The crowd loved it and the debate was, for all intents and purposes, over. Of course, JFK never said any such thing, but because he was a Capitalist he might have said it.


6. STACK THE AUDIENCE WITH YOUR SUPPORTERS.

You must think like a wolf. Be voracious. Be clever. Be bloodthirsty and never hunt alone.
Wolves hunt and kill in packs. So must you hunt and kill. If you are in a public debate with a Conservative (or anyone not a loyal Comrade) stack the house with likeminded brothers and sisters. They can give you moral support and can be used as an offensive weapon or in your defense if things go badly (see #4).

Rehearse your people. Drill them and then use them! The sheep in the crowd won't catch on and you can mobilize the fools sitting on the fence into jumping onto your side with verbal support and hopefully some cash.


7. ASK LOADED AND CONFUSING QUESTIONS.

Most people lack self-confidence. They doubt themselves. They are insecure in their own intelligence and strength. They are afraid most of the time. If they don't understand something they assume it is their fault. Use this doubt and fear against them.

There is an old adage that goes, "If you can't dazzle 'em with your footwork, baffle 'em with your bullshit".

If you are asked a direct question, answer it with another question. When you ask that a question make it so convoluted and complex that no sensible answer can be made. Or, if the fool tries to answer it, you can pick it apart by saying that his answer is just bureaucratic gobbledygook and just another example of the Establishment trying to confuse the People with lies and obfuscation.

Asking "loaded" questions is an excellent disruptive ploy. With a "loaded" question no matter what answer your enemy gives he looks bad. "When did you stop beating your wife?", "How much longer must the people of this country put up with a racist, sexist (or whatever) government and Society?" "Don't people have a right to decent, affordable housing?" [ Technically and legally, of course, there is no such right.] If the fool answers this last question "yes" then hammer him as to why there is so much poor, substandard housing and what have you done with all the money you have taken from the workers?. If he answers "no" (the correct and true reply) Call him a heartless, racist and mean spirited bastard. Either way you've got him by the nuts.


8. LAUGH AT YOUR OPPONENTS.


As stated in #7, "Most people lack self-confidence". One facet of this is that they can't stand being laughed at. It hurts them and confuses them. Good! It also creates a negative public image of them. Even better!

In 1948 Thomas E. Dewey was the Republican candidate for President. He was the heavy favorite to defeat Harry Truman. He was very able and qualified, but he was the enemy.

Dewey had a small mustache and had a rather stiff and formal demeanor. One night, late in the campaign, a nationally broadcast radio commentator said that Dewey reminded him of the little statue of the groom that sits on top of a wedding cake. The image that it created in the Public's mind was so absurd that, virtually overnight, Dewey's poll numbers plummeted and Truman blew him away in the election. People just could not vote for anyone who made them laugh every time they saw his face.

The same type of thing happened with Dan Quayle. Our partners in the Press have destroyed the political career of Mr. Quayle. They have made him, through disinformation and/or complete fabrication, a national laughingstock.

Remember the "potatoe" incident? Quayle was ridiculed mercilessly for ostensibly misspelling the word "potato" as "potatoe". Of course, either spelling is correct, but who cares?

Another time the media quoted Quayle as speaking at a United Negro College Fund banquet and mangling their motto by saying "It is a terrible thing to lose one's mind". The nation roared. The only thing that the masses of sheep never noticed or were never told was that it was actually Al Gore (our VP) who said it and not Dan Quayle. No videotape of this gaffe ever made it on air. Protests were actively ignored and quashed so that the truth never got out.

(An aside: Al Gore is a problem for us. He looks good and follows orders, but he is one stupid son of a bitch. That makes him dangerous.)

In a public debate, laugh at your opponent. Ridicule his looks, his clothes or whatever is obvious. Try to make him appear ludicrous to the audience. The Pie throwers are an inspired lot. They understand the power of an absurd image.

If you can get the crowd to laugh at the enemy he is neutralized - no matter who he is. No matter how qualified or knowledgeable he is. He is dog meat.

9.CLAIM VICTIM STATUS FOR YOURSELF.

In the last 25 years the United States has fallen in love with the "Victim".

The best way to get something for nothing has become to say that you are a "Victim". Of course, given that you are a "Victim" it logically follows that something or someone is the denoted "Victimizer" For our purposes it is better that the Victimizer be an identifiable person or group. "Somethings" are harder to effectively vilify and things don't have assets that can be easily extorted in litigation.

Claiming Victim status in a debate makes it difficult for any opponent to rebut your argument. Any attack can then be painted as being: 1. Blaming the Victim 2. Calling them "Stupid" or "Heartless" or using the timeless cliche, "You just don't get it." 3. "the Establishment oppressing the poor." The list of ploys is well known.

Victimhood also sways Public Opinion. The American sheep will believe anything, no matter how crazy, if the person saying it is a self-proclaimed Victim.

An example: Our President Clinton who, while a highly disciplined activist and apparatchik, just can't keep his dick in his pants. His poll numbers rose when he claimed that he was a Victim and therefore not to be blamed for his actions. His story was that his behavior was to be excused because his Mother and Grandmother loved him too deeply and fought over him. OK, sure.
No matter how you look at it his claim is pure nonsense, but that is the beauty of being a Victim. Nonsense is accepted as Sense. Illogic is accepted as Logic. Lies are accepted as Truth.

You see, to disagree with the claims of a Victim is seen as cruel, mean spirited and "extremist hate speech".

Victimhood hands you a very broad and heavily tarred brush with which to paint your enemy.

Finding your Victimhood is a snap. Quite literally, you can use anything about you that anyone might not like; Sex, Age, Race, Sexual Orientation, Religion, Political Affiliation, Level of education, Size, Ethnicity, Health Status, Financial Well-being, What you drive (or don't drive), the food you eat. You get the idea. Pick a card, any card. Why you are a Victim is unimportant, only your status as a Victim carries weight.

Remember: Everything is Political, use Everything.


10.STATE CONJECTURE AS FACT.


State conjecture as fact. Blur the line between opinion and truth. The best example of this I have ever seen is the furor over "Global Warming".

Incredible gains in spreading centralized control over many aspects of Society have come as a result of our fear mongering about "Global Warming".

Hard, objective science shows that there is zero evidence of any kind of "Global Warming". The facts actually point to a mild cooling over the last 300 years. These are the facts, but the operative reality is that "Global Warming is a horrible crisis that must be dealt with".

Our people in the Government and Media have promulgated the crisis using partial data, psuedoscientists offering half-baked opinions as hard truth and "What If..." terrorism. Sheep believe it all.

The "Ozone Hole" is another good example of conjecture as fact. There is no hole and never has been. The ozone layer over the polar regions is naturally thinner than elsewhere around the planet. Ever since science discovered this layer (in the 1950's) it has been noted that the thickness of the layer fluctuates from year to year. There has never been a complete disappearance of the layer... No "Hole". However, in the newspapers there is a hole. On TV there is a hole. In the halls of Government there is a hole. Therefore, people believe that there is a hole. Scare tactics are very effective. Ain't it great?

To be able to wield the power of the "scare tactic" you must become proficient and comfortable at stating half-truths, junk science, confusing statistics and flat-out lies as Gospel Truth.

It is said that "The Truth will set you free". Well, it is up to you to determine what the "Truth" is. Done well, it will set us all on the road to Power and Domination over the masses of sheep in this country.




A FINAL WORD

The objective in any argument with the enemy is not to win, but to make your enemy give up. It is unimportant if you convert him to your side. Anyone who would argue with you is probably pretty well grounded and not easily fooled. So, what you want to do is to make him feel that it is useless to argue with you. That he is powerless against you.

You already know (or should know) that the struggle is not about "right" or "wrong" but about getting the Power. The best way to do this is to convince people that resistance is useless - that they just can't win. Who cares what they believe as long as they don't resist our power. True Believers will be dealt with later. They are merely our "Brownshirts".

If there is an audience to the debate all you have to do is create as much confusion, doubt and hopelessness as possible in the mind of the listener. If someone is wasting time actually listening to the debate it usually means that he or she is not sure which side to believe. That is all you need. Feed that confusion. Proclaim that their doubt is good because it shows that they are "open minded". Flattery will get you everywhere. Because you are not restricted by reason and truth you can easily sway these wafflers to your argument.

Use these 10 secrets to sow confusion and frustration in your enemy. Don't let truth get in the way. It is, more often than not, also your enemy. If you're reading this you are already committed to the struggle and know that.

It doesn't matter what you call yourself- "Liberal", "Progressive", "Democrat", "Socialist", etc., they are all the same now anyway, right?

As a sidenote: I would avoid identifying yourself as a "Communist". It still has a lot of negative connotations in many people's minds, although we are making progress on that front too. After all, most sheep believe that Gorbachev brought Democracy to Russia. Of course, the truth is that he fought it all the way until he caved in to Boris Yeltsin. In time, both of them will have to answer for their actions. Until then, use the false image to your advantage.

Never forget that the ultimate goal is Total Power. Power to be used to enrich ourselves and to destroy any and all opposition.

The ends truly do justify the means. You must accept that, embrace that and let it set you free.

Knowledge is not power. If it were, librarians would rule the world. No, "Power comes out of the barrel of a gun" said Chairman Mao. He was right, but now our "guns" must be the Press, the elected offical and our committed activists. In time (not all that far off) we will hold all the guns and then the rest is just mopping up.



The End





Wordkraft Publishing
copyright 2000

Marrying Up (Gringos marrying 3rd World women)


Marrying Up

Whole Nuther Worlds (or Maybe Nuthers Worlds)

Fred on Everything

June 25, 2008

In countries of the Third World, you often find American men in their fifties or sixties who have wives twenty or twenty-five years younger. In my considerable experience, they seem happy together. However, the arrangement upsets people back in the US. Why, I wonder?

A couple of upsettances are common. The first, from feminists, holds that the man is exploiting the woman sexually (a flattering thought to a man in his sixties; more likely, she wishes he were) or that he wants a docile and pliable woman. The view springs from the common notion among American women that a female who isn’t intolerable isn’t really a man. I suggest that if feminists married more Chinese women, they would learn a great deal about docility and where it isn’t. But, as I have often said, feminists hold women in much more contempt than do men.

The second upsettance, from both men and women Stateside, is that the wife is a brazen-clawed gold-digger. We are left, I suppose, with a docile, pliable brazen-clawed…ah, never mind.

It is perhaps worth noting that marriage has always had a large element of self-seeking, and that women, when they have not actually sold sex, have at least bartered it. This practice is hotly denied, and as hotly pursued.

Take identical twin brothers, introduce one as a recent graduate of Harvard Medical, and the other as a bus driver, and compare their amatory successes. There will be no comparison. Give me a Ferrari and money enough to leave hundred-dollar tips for a beer, and women will line up for blocks outside my door, though I have the appeal of a tree fungus. And while sex is often associated with marriage, not always accurately, it’s far cheaper to rent than buy. Only the crazy marry for it.

What usually happens is that a guy of, say, sixty arrives in Bangkok. Or Manila, Panama, Mexico, Saigon…. He’s looking at ten or fifteen years, and knows it. He has enough money to live well on the local economy. He doesn’t have a whole lot more.

For a young man, such places are candy stores. An old guy has done that, especially the kind of old guy you find in the Third World. Running the bars gets old. He’s looking more to warmth, to not coming home every night to an empty apartment, to having someone to hang outwith in the day. He’ll find buddies around town, but it’s different.

Now, there is a curious social convention regarding guys in the later stages of life. A man of fifty is a silvering figure of masculinity but, somewhere around sixty, he becomes in the public mind a doddering idiot. The phrase “little old man” comes into play. He is either a dirty old man (implying that he has the instincts of all males from the age of fifteen) or a manipulable dunderhead subject to the wiles of any bit of fluff. How pitiable.

Actually he is much more likely to be a bush pilot out of Alaska or ex-Special Forces or a veteran of thirty years in the oil business in the Pacific. Dimwits and weak sisters don’t often show up single in such places. They’ve known the girls and the places where you find girls for decades, some going as far back as BC Street in Koza. They know what is what, and are unlikely to get flensed.

Here it is important to get beyond the often unconscious but powerful condescension that so many have toward Third-Worlders. This attitude urges that women (and men, but we are not here interested in men) in most of the world are ignorant if not illiterate, uncouth and, not to put too fine a point on it, not very bright. This view doesn’t hold up well to experience.

Women are naturally classy unless, like so many American women, they have consciously appropriated the manners of cattle rustlers, running backs, and rabid badgers as an intensely sought ideological goal. In most places women dress well if they possibly can, and behave well. Many are intelligent, which is more important than formal education in being good company. They generally are just plain good people. And they are far tougher and more self-reliant than are cosseted editresses in New York.

So things look pretty good from the guy’s point of view.

From the woman’s point of view, American (and in general First World) men also look pretty good. The cold fact is that American men treat women well. In a lot of countries, the men are—I’m trying to think of a polite euphemism for “real dickheads”; one will come to me in a moment. They beat their wives, cheat on them, treat them like chattels. American men don’t. (There are exceptions to all of this, of course, but they are exceptions.) A gringo wants his wife to be part of his life. He will go to dinner with her, take her desires into account, and treat her as an equal. Koreans won’t.

This is a novel concept in many places but, I promise, it flies really well.

Often the woman will have a kid or two attached, maybe from an earlier marriage or maybe just accidents. Now, in the US certain people get huffy about--oh, the thought!—illegitimate children. How déclassé and other French words. I note that American women are as sexually active as any other. They just believe in abortion more. At any rate, the gringo often figures, hey, they’re kids. Let’s raise them. It’s what you do with kids.

This too goes over really well.

He figures if he’s going to have a girlfriend, or wife, he might as well get a pretty young one. Too young means boring, but for a guy of sixty, thirty-five or forty is young, and not boring. So that’s what he gets. American women hate this like poison, which keeps me awake at night.

For the man, she’s great company, nice looking, usually cooks well and takes care of the house. For her, he’s a nice guy, treats her like a human being, makes sure the kids go to good schools, and provides much-needed security. They actually like each other, which can add a lot to a marriage.

Usually he marries her, if he does, because when he croaks he wants her to have legal or financial benefits of one sort or another. She of course knows this will happen, but so what? The arrangement differs in no obvious way from an American woman’s expectation of getting the life insurance. They appreciate each other. The kids see a dentist, the woman doesn’t have to work in some godforsaken shoe factory, and the guy has a life worth living.

You may not believe me. But I know a lot of these men. None of them would ever, under any circumstances, change.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Água mineral feita a partir do mar chega aos EUA

Água mineral feita a partir do mar chega aos EUA

Manuela Rahal, de São Paulo (Valor)

Moradores de Miami, na Flórida (EUA), poderão a partir do próximo mês entrar em lojas de conveniência da cidade e levar pra casa uma nova garrafa de água mineral, a H2Ocean. Seria apenas mais uma marca no mercado, não fosse por um detalhe: a H2Ocean é feita a partir da água do mar, com aplicação da nanotecnologia. E mais. O processo foi desenvolvido por brasileiros.

A H2Ocean nasceu da experiência de dois cientistas, que começaram a desenvolver a tecnologia de controle de minerais em água dessalinizada. Isso ocorreu há dez anos. Em seguida, somaram-se à dupla outros dois sócios. Em 2003, eles conseguiram a patente do processo e passaram a bater de porta em porta para tentar comercializar a água. "Ao longo de dez anos, foram investidos cerca de US$ 2 milhões na companhia", diz Rolando Viviani, gerente de marketing da H2Ocean. Segundo ele, todas as pesquisas foram feitas com recursos próprios dos quatro sócios. Seus nomes, por enquanto, são mantidos em sigilo.

No início, o objetivo da H2Ocean era vender a água "nanotecnológica" no Brasil. A empresa alega ter procurado a Agência Nacional de Vigilância Sanitária (Anvisa) em 2006 para realizar o pedido de registro do engarrafamento do produto. A resposta teria sido a de que não há legislação específica para que esse tipo de água seja vendido no país por conta da sua fonte: o mar. Procurada, a Anvisa informou que a H2Ocean nunca entrou com um pedido de registro. A empresa, entretanto, enviou ao Valor fac-símile da página da Anvisa na internet em que aparece o número do processo do registro e do protocolo, em nome de Aquamare Beneficiadora e Distribuidora de Água. A data de entrada é de outubro de 2006 e o pedido foi negado em março do ano passado.

Em dezembro, a mesma Aquamare fez uma segunda tentativa, enviando uma carta à Anvisa em que pedia esclarecimentos sobre o que fazer para obter o registro. A resposta veio quatro meses depois, com a indicação de que a empresa deveria "importar" uma legislação sobre o assunto.
Ao Valor, a Anvisa também informou que "a empresa interessada na produção (...) de água dessalinizada deve apresentar, preferencialmente por intermédio de uma associação, proposta de regulamentação para avaliação pela Anvisa".

As dificuldades para se obter o registro no Brasil levaram a H2Ocean a mudar de estratégia. A empresa continua interessada em obter a aprovação da Anvisa, mas decidiu priorizar a busca por novos mercados. A opção foi pelos EUA. "O registro da empresa saiu em três horas e a água foi analisada em 15 dias. Nos EUA, conseguimos resolver em três meses tudo o que não conseguimos aqui em quatro anos", afirma Viviani. O Valor, porém, não teve acesso ao registro obtido no exterior.

A venda da H2Ocean começa nos Estados Unidos em agosto, em três estados: além da Flórida, Nova Jérsei e Atlanta. Foram embarcados oito contêineres do produto, feito inicialmente na fábrica de Bertioga, litoral sul de São Paulo. A unidade poderá ser desativada em breve. A produção deve ser transferida para os EUA no fim deste ano.

A nanotecnologia foi o instrumento utilizado pela H2Ocean para transformar a água do mar em água mineral dessalinizada. A água dos oceanos é rica em micro e macro nutrientes, como o boro, o cromo e o germânio - elementos dos quais o corpo humano necessita, em pequenas doses. Com a nanotecnologia, a H2Ocean conseguiu, a partir da água recolhida em alto mar, retirar o sal e manter grande parte dos minerais.

Para chegar a esse resultado, os cientistas criaram um filtro com nanotecnologia aplicada, o nanofiltro. O processo inicial é o mesmo que se faz desde a década de 1940: a dessalinização. Depois de retirado o sal, restam duas opções, segundo Viviani: "Ou todos os minerais são retirados da água ou ela continua salgada". Com uma sequência de nanofiltragens, a H2Ocean conseguiu manter 63 dos 86 minerais contidos na composição inicial. Surgiu a água do mar mineral.

Para saber se o resultado é bom, o brasileiro vai ter de esperar. Ou passar em alguma "deli" na próxima viagem à Disney.

http://opiniaoenoticia.com.br/interna.php?id=17845

Saturday, August 2, 2008

The Caretaker - one mother's crusade against the system that failed her son

The Caretaker

One mother's crusade to better the life of her mentally retarded son and the system that failed him

By Jesse Hyde

Published on July 31, 2008

Farhat Chishty pushes her son's wheelchair into the shade of an oak tree and sits down with a sigh. It's a calm spring morning at Denton State School, the largest institution for people with mental retardation in Texas, and she has come for her morning visit. She puts a knit cap on her son's head and adjusts a blanket over his bony knees. A gentle gust of wind blows across campus.

Spread out over 200 acres of wooded, rolling hills, the school has the bucolic feel of a summer camp. It has been described as a place of systematic abuse and torture—an Abu Ghraib for the retarded—but it hardly seems that way this morning. Not far from the park bench where she sits, a man in a wheelchair is motoring around the leafy campus, headed perhaps to the chapel or the Wooden Nickel restaurant to get an ice cream cone. This is a school in name only. The median age of its 630 residents is 49. The only thing they have in common is the need for around-the-clock supervision. Some have Down syndrome, some are autistic, and some lack the ability to walk or talk. Chishty's son falls in the latter category.

Every day she comes here to be with him—to wash his wiry hair and clip his yellowed nails and rub his calloused feet. The boy has no control over his body. His head rolls from side to side, his eyes dart from one thing to the other, and drool pools out of his mouth. His name is Haseeb, and he is 34.

He wasn't always like this. For most of his life, he has been profoundly mentally retarded, but there was a time when he could sing and dance and communicate with his mother in broken English and Urdu. There was a time when he ate cheeseburgers with his family and bopped his head to his brother's hip-hop. And then something happened.

Six years ago, not far from where Chishty sits, a nurse's aide found Haseeb in bed, soaking in his own blood and urine. No one at the school could explain what happened. For six months he lay in intensive care, suffering from massive internal injuries that triggered toxic shock and then paralysis. His mother insisted someone at the school was to blame—she had seen a bruise in the shape of a footprint near his groin on the morning they found him. But no one had reported any abuse, so her claims went ignored.

For two-and-a-half years, she told this story to anyone who would listen, and then the unexpected happened. Kevin Miller, a former caregiver at the school, admitted he had abused Haseeb in a drug-induced rage, punching and kicking him more than a dozen times. He said his supervisors knew about the attack and helped him cover it up. Even more alarming, he said abuse at the school was rampant. He knew his confession, which he first offered at a drug rehab clinic in Houston, might send him to prison, but he felt it was worth the risk if it sparked reforms.

More than three years have passed since then, and none of the changes Miller envisioned have taken place. Yet largely thanks to Chishty's efforts, her son has become the face of a movement. For the first time in nearly a decade, advocacy groups for the mentally retarded are pushing for the closure of the 13 state schools in Texas. These facilities, which house nearly 5,000 people, represent the largest institutionalization of mentally retarded in the nation, at a cost to taxpayers of $465 million last year. The alternative—smaller, community-based group homes—are cheaper, safer and more humane, mental health rights advocates say. The trend across the country is toward this model of care, and other states, including California and New York, have either shuttered their institutions or are in the process of doing so.

Jeff Garrison-Tate, who heads Community Now, an Austin-based advocacy group, cites the Chishty tragedy as a defining example of why Texas should close all its state schools. "Haseeb is the tip of the iceberg," he says. "By their very nature, these are places where abuse is rife to occur."

While officials with the Texas Department of Aging and Disability Services—the state agency charged with overseeing state schools—says Haseeb's case represents an isolated incident, the agency's own records paint a different picture. In April, the Associated Press reported that in the last three years, more than 800 state school employees have been fired for causing serious injury to residents. That followed a July 2007 review of records by The Dallas Morning News and the Houston Chronicle that found disturbing cases of abuse and neglect statewide. Most devastating, however, was an investigation by the U.S. Justice Department, which in 2006 documented neglect, cover-up and 17 deaths in 18 months at the Lubbock State School.

The Dallas Observer's own review of more than 800 pages of disciplinary records covering 11 state schools over the last five years reveals a widespread pattern of abuse and neglect throughout the system. These records are littered with incidents of staffers choking, punching and whipping clients. They also indicate that staffers often say injuries to residents, which they caused, were self-inflicted or the result of accidents; threats and intimidation of residents were tactics regularly employed by staff to ensure their abuse went unreported.

The Observer also spoke with nearly a dozen former and current employees at the Denton State School. These workers—nurses, direct-care aides, investigators and others—have never before spoken to the press, worried that doing so would cost them their jobs. They are speaking now because they say they are overburdened and near the breaking point, often being asked to work back-to-back shifts. Turnover at Denton State School for starting positions, according to the Texas State Employees Union, is an astronomical 65 percent. The reasons are obvious: low pay, a largely unskilled staff and an increasingly dangerous patient population. Says one employee, "No one really trains you in how to deal with a person who comes up to you and says, 'The devil wants me to kill you.' "

None of this surprises Farhat Chishty. For the last six years she has been a constant presence at the Denton State School. She passes between the buildings, almost ghostlike, pushing her son's heavy wheelchair along the shaded walkways. Her eyes are black, ringed in shadows; her cheeks are sunken and hollow. She walks hunched over, as if she is carrying a thousand sorrows. There is something spectral about her presence, as if she has come to haunt the place.

While most staff steers clear of her, others feed her information. They slip notes into her car, or call after hours to report abuse they have seen. Thanks in part to her efforts—she is a fixture at public hearings regarding state schools—the Civil Rights Division of the Justice Department is investigating the school.

What she has found, she says, is worse than anyone knows. "It's not one person. It's the system. They think I'm evil for being here, but the system is evil. They can't admit that because if they do, they admit that the system is wrong."

————

It's a warm Sunday afternoon in April, and Chishty is at her small Richardson home after a morning visit to Denton State School. She sits in the shadows of her front room with her shoes off, her bare feet curled up beneath her. Much of her youthful beauty—her high cheekbones, her striking dark eyes—is still present in her face, an indication of the resolve she has shown over the last six years in her battles with the state.

Two of her sons—handsome young men with college degrees—are also here, as is her daughter, who through this ordeal has become her closest confidant. They catch up on jobs and kids and Haseeb, and then Farhat disappears for a moment and comes back with a box full of pictures. Here is Haseeb as a boy in Iran, wearing a lavender vest of velvet. Here is Haseeb and his brother Saad, clowning for the camera. Here is Haseeb at Denton State School, a week before the attack. He is standing against a picnic bench, his face toward the sun. He looks unhappy, agitated.

The oldest of her four children, Haseeb was born in Saudi Arabia in 1973. At 10 months, on a trip to Pakistan, he contracted pneumonia, and the complications of the disease, which nearly killed him, caused permanent damage to his brain. After that, he never functioned like other children.

They had never wanted to put him in an institution, Farhat says. And in 1990, when his family moved to Norman, Oklahoma, Haseeb began taking special education classes. But at 21, state law said he could no longer go to school. The loss of structure and meaningful activities was difficult for him, and he often grew bored at home. "He would just get up and walk outside, go in the street," she says. "On more than one occasion I had to call the police. I didn't know where he was."

Because the family couldn't afford to keep him at home with a full-time caregiver, they placed Haseeb in a state-run facility five minutes from their Norman home. It seemed like a good fit. She visited him nightly, and on weekends he came home.


But in 1995, after the state of Oklahoma consolidated its mental health and mental retardation services, Haseeb was moved to a facility three hours away, and his mother began looking for a new place for him to live. She eventually settled on Denton State School, which at the time was the highest-rated public institution in Texas for people with mental retardation. After visiting the campus, she felt reassured. Haseeb's apartment would be as nice as anything she would find in the private sector. The apartment was his home, she was told; the school wasn't an institution, it was a community.

She saw residents freely roaming the sidewalks. Others were on their way to work in one of the school factories. Some were headed to the gym, which featured basketball courts and a swimming pool. The school's medical equipment appeared state-of-the-art; the school even had an on-site wheelchair factory. It reassured her that the school went to such lengths to ensure its residents were not only cared for, but comfortable.

Chishty, who at the time was pursuing a second bachelor's degree at the University of Central Oklahoma, took a three-month leave of absence from work and moved in with her daughter in McKinney to help Haseeb settle in. She visited him every day, staying until the staff asked her to leave at night, often bringing him his favorite Middle Eastern food.

There were some things about the school that worried her. Like the time she found a resident wandering along Interstate 35, not far from the campus. But she decided not to say anything. If she expected top-notch care—and she did—she needed to be on good terms with the staff.

On the morning of September 26, 2002, she says she phoned Haseeb's apartment to check on him and was told he had not eaten his breakfast. Haseeb could be a picky eater. She suggested the caregiver feed him a banana, but that hadn't worked, she was told. Then in a low voice, the staffer whispered, "Ms. Chishty, it's not good."

By the next morning, Haseeb's heart rate had risen to near critical levels, and his breathing was reduced to a labored pant. No one could explain what had happened.

Recalls Chishty, "When we got to the emergency room [at Denton Community Hospital] the doctor asked me, 'Can you ask him where he hurts, does he speak?' I said, 'Yes, he speaks.'" Haseeb told her his stomach hurt and when the doctor lifted Haseeb's shirt, she saw bruising from his stomach to his groin. "And then I sat down on the floor."

Doctors at the hospital said his injuries were consistent with someone who had suffered a traumatic car accident, but that didn't seem possible. He had only been at the school for four weeks, and during that time his family hadn't heard about any accidents.

For six months Haseeb lay in the ICU, during which time he had three major surgeries. The family pressed school officials for an explanation, but none came.

In January 2003, Chishty got a vaguely worded letter that raised her suspicions. She says the letter said a former employee had admitted to beating a resident. That could have been Haseeb.

She says she expected some kind of an investigation, but nothing happened. School officials would not give her any additional information. She called State Representative Myra Crownover more than a dozen times, asking for help, but was ignored. (Crownover, who represents the district where the school is located, is a staunch supporter of state schools. She told the Observer that she was traveling when Chishty called, but that her director of constituent services met with her. "I didn't want to get involved in a legal matter," Crownover says.)

Chishty says she also called staff at the governor's office and was told there was nothing they could do. Figuring she had no other recourse, she hired Dallas attorney Kelly Reddell, who on September 23, 2004, filed a federal civil rights suit against the school, seeking monetary damages that would cover Haseeb's in-home care for the rest of his life.

What followed could have come from the pages of a John Grisham novel. Reddell hired a private investigator, who tracked down Miller, finding him in California through his unemployment checks. When Miller was served with the suit, he called Reddell and told her he had found Jesus, and said he was ready to come clean. Six months later, he hitchhiked to Dallas and gave Reddell a two-and-a-half-hour videotaped deposition.

For the school, Miller's admissions were damning. He said he had come to the school looking for a purpose in life in August of 2001, but before long he was witnessing abuse. "There was the way we were trained to do things, and there was the way it worked in the real world," he said. "...There were techniques for everyone; different things worked for different people." To keep one resident under control, Miller said, he and other staff members used a large metal serving spoon. Sometimes they tapped it on the floor as a warning, and sometimes they beat the resident on the head with it. "It got to the point where it was fun beating them and hitting them and torturing them."

He also said he and other staffers regularly used drugs on the job, often slipping into the bathroom to snort cocaine or smoke methamphetamines. His supervisor was not only aware of drug use on the night shift, Miller said, he was also a user who bought painkillers from one of his employees. (The state has denied these charges, and the supervisor has said in a sworn affidavit that he never used drugs on the job or witnessed anyone else doing so. A nurse, who also worked during that time at the building where Haseeb lived, told the Observer none of Miller's claims are true.)

Miller said that once he had been fully "brought in to the fold" he began to see the sorts of abuse from which he had previously been shielded. Now, sitting on a couch stoned with other staffers, he watched as residents "ran into walls." Sometimes, he and his co-workers would throw balls at the residents as they passed by. "Basically what it came down to was systematic torture of residents to get them to change their behavior," Miller said.

Like other residents, Haseeb could be difficult, Miller said. Haseeb sometimes hit, scratched and pulled hair. He often refused to sit down for meals, to eat or to work in one of the school's workshops, according to court records. Occasionally, Haseeb grabbed him around the neck and dug his nails into Miller's skin.

On the evening of September 25, 2002, Haseeb did not want to go to bed. Miller was irritable and angry, coming down off a high. He told Haseeb to go to bed several times, and then, when Haseeb didn't listen, he punched him in the stomach. He had done this before to control Haseeb, and other staffers had done it as well, he said.

"He kept coming up to me, and he kept coming up to me, and I kept punching him, and I kept punching him, and he wouldn't stop," Miller said. "I can't recall how many times."

There was no way Haseeb could ward off the blows. He weighed just 116 pounds, and Miller stood 6-foot-1 and weighed 265 pounds. When he was done, Miller was sweating profusely. He said he shut the door and walked away.

Most damaging to the school was Miller's claim that his supervisors were aware of what he had done and had concocted a story of a seat belt injury, claiming Haseeb had struggled against being restrained during his transportation from his previous residence to Denton State School. "I'm not saying we all huddled up and said, 'This is going to be the story.' It was something management came up with."

With the tape rolling, Miller claimed he wasn't trying to get even with the school but rather hoped to right a wrong. "What happened there goes against every fiber of my being."

The next morning Miller turned himself in. Prosecutors at the Denton County District Attorney's Office charged him with injury to a disabled person, a first-degree felony. On August 11, 2006, Miller was sentenced to 15 years in prison.

Despite the confession, the Texas Attorney General's Office, which represented the school in the Chishty suit, maintained that Haseeb's injuries—the perforations to his intestines—were caused by a seat belt injury on the trip from his previous residence to the school. True, Haseeb did not like being restrained, but his mother says she saw him immediately after the trip and didn't notice any injuries.

In April 2007, Reddell and Chishty took their findings to Austin, where each testified before the House Civil Practice Committee. They asked lawmakers to give the Chishty family a waiver from sovereign immunity, a legal defense which can protect the state from civil suits. Marianne Reat, an attorney with the Department of Aging and Disability Services, told the committee that an investigation into the matter had not found any evidence of abuse or neglect.

The House unanimously approved the request, but the Senate never acted on the bill. The lawsuit was dismissed last year after the state successfully defended on grounds of sovereign immunity.

Back in their home, the Chishty family says they still have a hard time believing what happened.

"We took all the avenues we could," says Haseeb's younger brother Saad. "Like any huge, overblown bureaucracy, they are designed to protect the institution instead of the people they serve."

His sister nods and talks about the toll this has taken on their mother. "Every day she is there, she's afraid to leave him alone for half an hour. It's taken over her life."

Their mother sits slumped on the sofa in their living room, listening. As her children talk, she thumbs through the pictures on her lap, and tears begin to stream down her face. She tells them how guilty she feels for the time she spends at the school. She has lost her job, her car and now her oldest son helps support her financially. She is separated from her husband, who lives in Houston. Still, her deepest regret is that in some way she failed to protect Haseeb.

"The hardest thing for me," she says, recalling the scene of the crime, "is to think of him lying there all night, soaking in his own blood."

————

When Chishty is not at the Denton State School tending to Haseeb, she is often on the road, tending to his cause. Two legislative study groups are investigating the issues surrounding the state schools, and in February she testified in Dallas before one of them. If either committee introduces legislation during the 2009 legislative session, she plans on lobbying lawmakers to ensure they understand her position: that the large, cumbersome state schools are fraught with the potential for abuse and should be shuttered in favor of smaller, community-based facilities.

Her fight is one with a long history, one that began more than 30 years ago when a man named John Lelsz filed a lawsuit on behalf of his son, alleging that Richmond State School near Houston used inhuman methods to control its charges, including the use of cattle prods to administer electric shock therapy. The suit languished in the Dallas federal courts for years until Judge Barefoot Sanders, now retired, forged a settlement in 1991. Two state schools—in Fort Worth and Travis—were shut down as a result. Then-Governor Ann Richards considered closing others, but intense opposition, fueled largely by the Texas State Employees Union, killed the effort.

"It's kind of like closing a military base," says mental health rights advocate Garrison-Tate. "A lot of these places are in more rural areas—Brenham, San Angelo, Abilene—and they are an economic boon of that town."

The Mexia State School, for example, employs one in four residents, adds Cecilia Fedorov, a spokesperson with the Department of Aging and Disability Services. "If you represent one of those districts, and you close down a place like that, you're committing political suicide," Garrison-Tate says.

Although advocacy groups continued their push to get people with cognitive disabilities into community-based facilities, nothing stoked the prospect of change more than the December 2006 report of a U.S. Department of Justice investigation of the Lubbock State School. "It was more horrific than we ever imagined," says Garrison-Tate.

The 43-page report revealed that the Lubbock school was severely understaffed and was providing its residents an alarmingly low level of care. The report noted that the school had almost no training for medical emergencies and had one full-time psychiatrist, who had a caseload of 180 residents. Some of the observations noted in the report seemed like something straight out of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. On June 5, 2005, for example, a male resident was told he could take a shot from the nurse "the hard way or the easy way." Opting for the hard way, staffers grabbed, choked and threw him to the ground, slamming his face in the floor.

The report sent shockwaves through the Department of Aging and Disabilities. During tough questioning from a state Senate committee last year, DADS commissioner Addie Horn broke down in tears. This was her life's work, she said, and she took great pride in it. The agency did everything it could to identify, prevent and stop abuse, and would continue to do so.

Officials at DADS went on a public relations offensive, asserting that the problems in Lubbock were not occurring elsewhere and, that as the report pointed out, the main problem was funding. But subsequent media reports—in The Dallas Morning News, the Houston Chronicle and the San Antonio Express-News—revealed that conditions were just as bad, and possibly worse, at other state schools.

Perhaps emboldened by these press reports, employees and family members of residents at the Corpus Christi State School visited the offices of state Representatives Solomon Ortiz Jr. and Abel Herrero last fall, telling them their own stories of abuse.

"People would bring pictures, 'Here is my loved one severely bruised. Here is my loved one with a broken arm,'" Ortiz recalls. "And there was no explanation from the school as to how these things had happened."

Then, in May 2007, a resident at Corpus Christi hung herself by her shoelaces, the first suicide at a state school in years. Ortiz says he was told the suicide was due at least in part to staffers who had not made their rounds.

"We started to talk to mid-management-type people, and they started telling us about how understaffed they were, the back-to-back shifts, about the drug use among employees, and that they were seeing a new [criminal] element being sent to state schools: people who were found not mentally competent to stand trial."

The Observer's own review of disciplinary records for 11 state schools (Denton and Lubbock were not included because of pending litigation) also supports the view that what happened to Haseeb Chishty was not a unique event. While most of the disciplinary violations the Observer reviewed, for incidents reported from 2002-2007, were for minor rules violations and accidents, dozens more raise serious concerns.

There are also disturbing episodes of exploitation, sometimes sexual, and humiliation. Some mirror the environment Miller said existed at Denton State School. At Abilene State School in the spring and summer of 2006, for example, staffers regularly threw balls at residents as they passed by. The same group of employees also forced a resident to sit while one of their co-workers punched him in the arm, chest and stomach. These abuses went on for six months before any staffers were disciplined, even though their supervisor had been aware of the problems for months.

It is hard to reconcile these reports with what one sees touring Denton State School. During a recent visit, the facility appeared clean, the staff cheerful. "It really is a community here," says recently appointed Denton State School superintendent Randy Spence, who has held management positions at other state schools. "I never would have stayed for 29 years in a situation where what's been portrayed in the media is the truth. It's very hard to read things and know they just aren't true."

Still, employees say there are problems that must be addressed. Because starting pay for an entry-level job as a direct-care aide is a relatively low $1,522 a month, roughly $9 an hour, finding applicants with relevant work experience is difficult. The only requirement for the job is a high school diploma.

It's a stressful job, and over the years it has only become more difficult. Thanks to advances in medical science, residents in state care facilities are living longer, which brings a whole set of new problems. "It means more medications, more shots, more room for medical error," one nurse says. The population has also become more dangerous. As Texas has cut overall funding for mental health, state schools have been asked to pick up the slack and have seen a steady increase in the number of residents with the dual diagnosis of mental retardation and mental illness.

In places such as Corpus Christi and San Angelo, state schools also take court referrals, meaning part of their populations are now accused criminals.

Because of high turnover—2,138 state school employees quit last year—experienced staff are stretched thin while new workers must manage a situation that is often chaotic and frequently dangerous. As a result, staffers say that accidents happen and occasionally tempers flare. "Most of the people I work with are compassionate and really care about their jobs," another employee says. "But we do have people not cut out for the job, and sometimes bad things happen."

DADS spokesperson Fedorov argues that state schools are open to visitors 24 hours a day, making rampant and systematic abuse nearly impossible. She says that while abuse allegations are high—investigators have confirmed 1,266 instances of abuse system-wide in the last three years—that does not tell the full story. Ninety-one percent of all abuse allegations come back unconfirmed.

The future of state schools now lies in the hands of the state Legislature. Over the past year, a mostly Democratic legislative study group, led by Representatives Ortiz and Herrero of Corpus Christi and Garnet Coleman of Houston, has held hearings in Corpus Christi and Dallas, and plans to hold more. They expect to issue a report in November.

A second legislative committee appointed by House Speaker Tom Craddick has also hosted a hearing in Austin and plans to release a report before the start of the 2009 legislative session. The chairman of this committee, State Representative Larry Phillips of Sherman, believes that reports of abuse and neglect have been exaggerated in the press. What has been lost, he says, is the number of people who are pleased with the facilities.

"You hear from families who say, 'I don't think my loved one would be able to make it if it weren't for state schools,'" Phillips says. "And then you hear from those who say it should all be closed. It's very difficult when you have two sides who are very adamant about things."

As far as community-based facilities are concerned, Phillips says, "There will always be abuse in the alternative as well. You can't say that just doing away with this parameter, you're going to do away with abuse."

Fedorov maintains that when residents capable of existing outside state school facilities request to leave, they are allowed to do so, provided there is space for them in state-run group homes. Since 2005, there has been a steady increase in the number of state school residents transferred to these facilities, from 76 in 2005 to 97 in 2006 to 118 last year. Already this year, 144 state school residents have gone into the community.

But Garrison-Tate says this is far from enough. He points to a July state audit report that said of the 644 residents at state schools who asked to leave in fiscal year 2007, 449—or 70 percent—were denied. Each state school has an interdisciplinary team—made up of a psychologist, a nurse, a guardian and others—that decides which residents are allowed to leave.

"There's an inherent conflict of interest when the people deciding whether you can leave are those whose livelihood depends on the continued existence of these facilities," Garrison-Tate says. "We would love to see the state close these facilities down, as other states have done, and move to community-based care. That's the trend across the country, but we know it can't happen today, or tomorrow. So what we want to see is a right-sizing. How many of these [schools] do we actually need to have? The people who want to get out should be able to leave, and we shouldn't put any more people in."

So far, the legislative response has been to increase funding for additional employees. In the 2007 session, the Legislature appropriated $49 million for state schools to hire an additional 1,700 employees. While DADS officials say the money has already had an impact, Denton State School employees say they aren't seeing much of a difference. The quality of training is going down, says one staffer, and new workers are often thrown into situations they aren't ready for.

Representative Garnet Coleman, D-Houston, says things must change. "For too long the answer has been to ignore these problems and to act like they don't exist, and we've done nothing," he says. "Well, doing nothing has got to stop. These are our most vulnerable citizens. It's a measure of our worth as a government, and as a society, how we take care of them."

Just how well the Denton State School takes care of its residents is somewhat obscured by DADS' refusal to provide relevant documents related to the facility, citing pending litigation.

But Chishty says what she has found suggests the school is just as bad, if not worse, than other facilities in the system. Over the last year, Chishty says she has uncovered several mysterious deaths at the school. One involved Manuel Lopez, a 17-year resident of the school who died in January. His family members told the Observer that they regularly saw bruises on his legs and face. Now they wonder if what they were told was an accident that caused permanent paralysis more than 13 years ago was actually the result of abuse. The family says the state has refused to release an autopsy report, and DADS declined the Observer's request for the same report, citing confidentiality concerns. The Texas State Attorney General is currently reviewing that decision.

While Chishty refuses to reveal what role she has played in the pending U.S. Justice Department investigation of the school, she had advance knowledge of the arrival of federal investigators at the school and the resignations within the last year of the superintendent of the school, its director of nursing and director of incident investigations. One Denton State School employee who spoke to the Observer on condition of anonymity blamed the federal investigation on Chishty. The employee also said abuse allegations at the school have dramatically spiked over the past two years.

For Chishty, this is good news. "It means somebody is getting the message. They know I am there and that I am watching."

————

She knows the answers now. For so long, they told her she was crazy, that what she said happened to her boy couldn't be true. And then they found the man who did it, and he confessed and is in prison. Everything that has come out since has only confirmed what she has always believed.

The prison is in the middle of nowhere, at a far west corner of the state in Fort Stockton. It is a bleak and foreboding place—a cluster of tan buildings surrounded by razor wire—and on hot days it bakes in the sun. It's the perfect spot to shelf a man the state would just as soon forget about.

In July, Kevin Miller agreed to a visit with the Observer, said he was ready to talk again. He knew the school, despite his confession, had never taken responsibility for its role in the matter.

He wanted to talk, he said in a letter, but wondered what difference it would make. After all he had said, so little had been done. He'd gained nothing by confessing, other than to give the Chishty family some semblance of justice, and they still wanted him dead. And so, not long ago, weighed down by what he had done, he tried to kill himself. It was his second attempt.

There was so much about him he wanted people to know—the abuse he suffered as a child, his habitual bouts with drug addiction, his bipolar disorder. Not that any of that was an excuse for what he had done.

"The above is not intended to put the blame on others and somehow reduce mine," he wrote. "I just feel now that it would have never happened if there weren't a hostile work environment, chronic drug abuse, and a system of abuse of residents already in place."

Chishty says she knows all this, has known it for years, but it's good to hear again, to re-validate what she's been fighting for. Because he is now a danger to himself, Miller has been transferred to a mental health unit. Both he and her son have become victims of the same act, and now both reside in institutions for the mentally challenged.

In October, the state agreed to let Haseeb come home and provide a nursing assistant to help Chishty with his care. She says she expects Haseeb to be home within a month or two, but considering the history of her battle with the state, she wouldn't be surprised if it takes longer.

Back on the grounds of Denton State School, she pushes her son in his heavy wheelchair, as she does most days. They cross the grass that leads to the edge of campus and stop under a grove of trees. Off in the distance, at the top of a small hill, is the cemetery, surrounded by a white picket fence. Every year, the residents of this school who have no family end up there. The school will not say how many they bury, but she knows that last winter 11 died in one month alone. She thinks of the many residents who have no family, and she says a silent prayer for them.

"Whatever happens, I will keep fighting," she says. "Not just for Haseeb, but for the other people here. I have to make sure what happens to him never happens again."