Did we go back to 1950 today and I missed it?

We are kind of going back to 1950, I think. I have this theory that because the "Great Recession" hit men harder than women, it's created a culture similar to post-WWII, where men are trying to re-establish their place in society or make up for not having jobs. There seems to be a similar effort to control and legislate women as well as narrowly delineate what's "proper" for girls and women.

And of course the WSJ has only gotten more conservative under Murdoch.

I've been rereading "Karen" by Marie Killilea for the first time since maybe fifth or sixth grade. The cover makes it seems like it's all about Karen growing up with cerebral palsy (the edition I have has the irritating subtitle "She lived a miracle!") but really, I'd say close to half of the book is about the administrative and publicity and education things behind her mother being one of the founders of the National United Cerebral Palsy Foundation (though we don't see that title until pretty late in the book -- at first, she's just involved in local things.)

Also, the contrast between the different attitudes of different people they encounter is pretty startling -- the first 23 doctors tell them some variation of "Put her in an institution and forget about her," and the woman who runs an inn won't let them stay there because "only bad, dirty people would have a child like that." But at the same time, Karen's parents are conscious enough of the language they're using that they make a point of always saying she's affected by, rather than afflicted with, CP.

The book also definitely avoids the heroic cripple trap -- there are plenty of scenes where Karen does something wrong or gets into trouble. (Frequently with the help of her little brother -- when her plan requires something she physically can't do, she gets him to do it.)

I googled her to find out if she's given any interviews or written anything as an adult, but all I could find was that she's working as a receptionist at a Catholic retreat center and that she values her privacy and won't talk to the press.

The book also kind of glosses over how much the Killileas were able to do that lots of other families can't because they had money. The father could take a leave of absence from his job for several months to learn how to do Karen's physical therapy. They could afford to travel all over the country to the few doctors who had treatments. And they've got enough education and resources to be able to say, "No, you're wrong, we're going to find someone else" when a doctors gives them an answer they don't want. There's a mention of some other families who couldn't get their kids into school because the public schools wouldn't take kids who couldn't walk, but they put Karen in the same private Catholic school where they send their other kids. (Though that only lasts a little while -- she goes to kindergarten when she's still small enough that the teacher can pick her up and carry her where she needs to go, but by first grade, she's too big for that, and she has to stay home for a few years until she's able to walk with crutches.)

Raq, I think your analysis is spot on.

Also, my phone wants to change your name to FAQ.

I always thought the Killileas were pretty open with the fact they had resources that others didn't. I read both books and they're all smushed together, though. In the '50s and '60s, my parents never described my sister as having CP and we always emphasized that she only had motor damage.

Did you realize that the Killileas lived next to Jean and Walter Kerr? When Jean Kerr writes things like "I don't care what Rory's mother says, you can't walk on the furniture," in essays like "Please Don't Eat the Daisies," she's talking about Rory Killilea.

erin - i just wanted to say that Roy Dotrice is reading A Dance with Dragons.

Did you realize that the Killileas lived next to Jean and Walter Kerr? When Jean Kerr writes things like "I don't care what Rory's mother says, you can't walk on the furniture," in essays like "Please Don't Eat the Daisies," she's talking about Rory Killilea.

I hadn't known that.

I'm also somewhat amused by the way Marie talks about a woman they know who has CP and is a lawyer. There's a lot of "If Frances could do that, then Karen could, too" about getting an education and being self-supporting and stuff, and Frances gets all sorts of honors and awards and things, but I think the only one to get an exclamation point in this book is when she goes from wearing flats to wearing shoes with small heels.

This book is also reminding me how many childhood illnesses I avoided just by being born late enough. I'm about 3/4 of the way through the book, and Karen's older sister has already had rheumatic fever and TB.

This book is also reminding me how many childhood illnesses I avoided just by being born late enough. I'm about 3/4 of the way through the book, and Karen's older sister has already had rheumatic fever and TB.

Thanks to the whack-ass anti-vaxers, today's kids can experience the joy of horrific diseases, AND they can pass them on to their friends! Truly we live in a golden age.

Measles cases are popping up all over Utah. Somebody went to Poland without getting any shots beforehand, and came back with a gift that keeps on giving.

"Karen" was, when I read it as a teenager, both surprisingly modern and wacky and old-fashioned. But since then, I've blogged so much about the disability experience that I no longer fall upon every memoir like it has some answer I'm missing. I guess I'm glad the whole "bad and dirty" thing has moved to the subconscious level at least.