A Short Story

The office was filled with the sound of the harried staff carrying out individual tasks, the beeping of the printers and the insistent shrill of the numerous phones ringing.  Eliza Barnes stood at the center of the chaos, reveling in the constant sounds of a campaign at work. Unlike the interns whose distressed faces showed the oncoming mental breakdown, Eliza couldn’t have felt more at ease. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she knew when she was supposed to do it. She was in her element.

“Nelson,” she called out to her deputy campaign manager, “have you figured out the budget costs with the advertising department. We need to start moving things along. You can leer at the college interns later.” Nelson turned to shoot her a contemptuous glare from where he stood, next to a young woman holding a sample campaign poster. Before she could say anything more to irritate him further, she was interrupted by one of the department directors.

“Mrs. Barnes, the consultant from the Boston headquarters is on line two for you, and the senator’s secretary just called to say the team is on their way. They’ll be here soon.” Eliza sucked in her breath, and then let it out slowly. It was time to act.

In her private office, she sank into her worn leather chair and reached for the phone. “Hello George, I wasn’t expecting your call until tomorrow afternoon,” she stated in a casual but confident manner.  It was important to maintain control of the conversation if she wanted positive results, and she new just how to work these serious professionals. “Don’t tell me you’ve looked over the outlines already. Your reputation doesn’t do you justice.” There was silence on the other end, and Eliza began to tap her fingernails impatiently on the surface of her desk.

“Hmm,” George cleared his throat uneasily and the receiver crackled, “there seems to be another issue that has come up that requires our immediate attention. We have just received word from our contact in the press. Apparently there’s a new story that’s spreading like wildfire through the tabloids.”

“Well, I’m sure we can handle it,” she muttered as she crossed my legs and flicked the lint from her pantsuit. “I’ll take care of damage control caused by any rumors.”

“Yes, only these aren’t rumor. The source supposedly has evidence that can completely ruin the image of our senator: our married senator.”  Suddenly, Eliza was overcome by a feeling of foreboding. She liked her lips nervously before she spoke.

“What…kind of evidence, George?”

“Pictures, of you and the senator. Outside the office.” Just like that, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. Her hands started to tremble, and there was a loud ringing in her ears. There could be no mistaking what he meant.  Even without George’s cold and disapproving tone, Eliza would have know. Her secret was out. The world would know of her affair with the senator. “Eliza, are you still there?”

She didn’t reply. She set the receiver back down on the cradle and tried to get her bearings.  The repercussions of her actions started to come down on her hard, and she felt as if she could hardly breathe. As soon as the tabloids released the story, the press would at their door.  The campaign would suffer, and they’d lose the votes they’d worked so hard to get. The campaign team of the opposing candidate would definitely take advantage of this. Her name and career would be ruined. The senator would be disgraced and- . The senator.  How would he react to this? He’d definitely be upset about this.  His marriage would suffer as well, but surely he wouldn’t turn his back on her. 

Eliza’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door. She looked up to see Nelson walk in and drop into one of the chairs across from her. He regarded her expression carefully, trying to piece together the meaning behind her crazed look. Finally, he spoke.

“Senator Matheson is here, and he wants to speak to you immediately. It sounded urgent. Of course, I would be happy to take over the tasks if you’re not up to it. Not everyone can be perfect, you know. As entertaining as it is to watch you try.” Nelson’s mocking tone broke though her reverie.

“I‘ll go,” she snapped. She rose from her seat and turned to the full length mirror she kept in her office. A nervous mess of women looked back at her. Eliza quickly tucked her shoulder length hair into a tight bun and soothed out the creases on her suit. None of it helped.  The confidence was gone from her once regal eyes, and her usually clear skin looked sallow. Eliza tried her best to compose herself and walked out of the office.

She immediately spotted the senator across the room. He was seated at one of the round conference tables, talking heatedly to one of his aides. He looked up as he saw her approach. 

“You can go ahead and talk to them about it, Carter,” the senator said. The assistant walked away, leaving the two of them alone. The senator smiled warmly at her. “I hear the campaign has been working well. It would seem that I’m ahead in the press already. Eliza, I could never have done this without you. When my wife first recommended that I ask you to head the campaign, I had my doubts, but she was right.” 

Eliza instinctively flinched when he mention Jenna, his wife.  She had been one her main supporters and mentors when she fist decided to get into politics. She had introduced her to all the right people and put in good word. When she had first started her ‘relationship; with the senator she had always felt guilty for betraying her. Now that guilt was coming back full force.

“Lizzy? What’s wrong?” Hearing him call her by that nick name snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see the senator gazing at her with concern. “You look sick.”

“I…need to talk to you, but not here, somewhere more private.”

“Of course,” the senator pulled her into the copy room and gently shut the door behind him. “What is it,” he asked, turning around to face her. “I was going to ask if you had any plans this weekend. I will be traveling to Philadelphia to take care of some business. If you came with me, we could spend some time together. We’d go to see the Liberty Bell, the Independence Hall, and there’s some really interesting jazz venue’s as well. Or if you want, we could always stay in.” The senator smiled, but Eliza couldn’t respond.  Slowly the senator became aware of the tension in the atmosphere. “Lizzy, what wrong?”

Eliza tried to make she look him in the eye but failed. Instead she turned and stared blindly at the cover of the Time magazine lying on a nearby table.

“I got a call from George just now. He said that the press has a good story…on us.” The senator continued to look at her, confused. She took a deep breath and turned to look directly at him. “It’s not just some story about the elections, Will. They…know.”

Comprehension dawned on the senator’s face, and he was speechless. Eliza curled her finger into her palms tightly, until she felt the nails biting into her skin.

“When,’ he asked listlessly.

“They might release it anytime now. I wouldn’t be surprised if-” The door flew open, and Nelson walked in. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but there’s been a new development. I think you two should see this.” Nelson wore a serious expression, showing the slightest trace of contempt. Eliza felt her heart drop to her stomach. “It’s out then,” she said simply. Nelson didn’t answer; he just tuned to address the senator. “Mr. Matheson, it might be best for you to contact your sponsors immediately. They’re the priority right now; we can’t have them stop funding.” 

The senator cleared his thought and brushed past her, exiting the room with Nelson at his heels. Eliza could feel the onset of her tears, and she quickly wiped her eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, Eliza followed them.

She had imagined the room would be in an uproar. It was the exact opposite. The once active, chaotic office was quiet. The staff and interns all stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Some boldly stared at the senator or Eliza as if demanding an explanation. The rest looked anywhere else.

Will was leaning over a computer on someone’s table, next to Nelson. Eliza walked toward them, and glanced over his should at the screen. She caught her breath. They had leaked an article, complete with a picture of the Senator kissing her in the garden of his private estate. The title was written in bold, announcing her humiliation to the world. The Senators New Campaign Tactic: Seduce the voters AND the manager.

The senator sighed heavily before turning to face Eliza. His face was creased with worry lines and stress. He looked tired and resigned. She had expected either that or desperation so it didn’t surprise her. The look in his eyes, on the other hand, was like a knife in her gut. His eyes were shrouded with guilt over what this would do to his wife. For her, they held an apology, as if asker for her forgiveness. The sick feeling in her stomach got worse as she realized what he was trying to tell her. All of this would become a big scandal, and when it did, he would not stand by her. He would be beside Jenna, trying to save their marriage and what would remain of his career.

 Eliza stood at the middle of a crowded room, with every set of eyes on her, and yet she had never felt more alone.

 *  *  *  *  *

The box weighed heavily in Eliza’s arms, as she packed away her pictures, books and supplies. She had already stripped down the walls of her office, and she was now clearing out her desk. 

“I think I’m going to keep the chairs as they are, but I’ll definitely get rid of that desk. It’s not really my style.”

Slamming the box down on her desk, she turned to glare at Nelson. 

“Can you at least wait till I leave the room before you start mentally decorating it?”

“Well, technically, as of this afternoon it’s my office. But, I’m not here to reprimand you. I come in peace.” He raised the bottle of wine and champagne flutes he was holding in his hands.

She didn’t protest as he poured her a glass. Taking the offering without hesitation, she downed the alcohol in one go. Nelson didn’t comment, merely raising an eyebrow as he refilled her glass. They stood that way for a long time, neither in a hurry to speak.

“So…what now?”

Eliza had known that question would come eventually, but that didn’t mean she was prepared. The finality of it seemed to hit her, and the tears she had successfully held back for so long were released. 

“I don’t really know,” she answered truthfully. “I don’t think there really is anything left for me.”

“There’s nothing left for you here,” Nelson replied in a softer tone. “That hardly means you’re going to be unemployed the rest of your life.”

“Please.  Please, don’t tell me that this will all just go away and I just have to ignore it. I’m not an idiot, even if everyone else may be thinking I am one.”

“I was never going to say that. Something this big is never going away.  Even if you tried to forget it, there would pictures, videos, and articles to remind you what all the fuss was about.” Eliza shot him an icy look. “The point is,” he continued, “that for better or worse, it’s behind you. There’s a lot you can do from here. It up to you, whether you really want to or not.” Nelson smiled at her. “Who knows, you could always right an exclusive book on your affair, and make millions.”

Eliza laughed shakily through her tears. “You’re right. I’m sure I’ll think of something, I always do.”  She looked around at the cardboard boxes. “Do you mind if I leave these here for now, and come pick them up tomorrow?”

“No problem.”

  After grabbing her coat, Eliza began to walk out the door.  

“And, Eliza?” She stopped at the door way to look back at Nelson. He stood by her old desk with a serious expression. “You may be a lot of things, but an idiot isn’t one of them.”  For the first time since they had begun competing, Eliza smiled at him with sincerity. Turning on her heel, she walked out the door. Waving at the staff, she picked her way through to the exit. Tomorrow, when she came to pick up her things, she might give them the explanations they deserved.  For now, she had to start getting her life back in order. As soon as she stepped outside, she was greeted by the chilly autumn air. Reaching into her purse, Eliza pulled out her cell phone and hit the first speed dial. The phone started ringing as she walked to her car.

“Hello. Eliza, what is it dear?”

 “Mom, there’s something I have to tell you. You’re going to find out soon enough anyway. Can I come over for some hot cocoa like I used to in college?”

“Absolutely.”Her mother didn’t interrogate her, or demand to know what was wrong. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Thanks,” Eliza smiled to herself. “By the way, was that post as an assistant for the political science professor at your college still open?”

“Yes, they’re still looking. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about applying. That’s all.”

Politicians, advocates, and volunteers alike have worked throughout history to make certain privileges become what they should be, a fundamental human right. The right to medical care is often seen as a foregone conclusion today. Regardless of who you are and where you might live, you are entitled to receive medical assistance. If this can be more or less agreed upon, why should psychological care be any different?

I grew up with many privileges as the child of a middle class, well-educated household. Due to this privilege, there were some things that I unconsciously took for granted. The right to care is one often one of the most under-appreciated. The unfortunate reality is that many families or individuals can not afford what others receive without cause for concern. 

Psychology and all of its encompassing disciplines is a field that has only recently received the acknowledgment and acceptance of the mainstream populous. It is now gaining traction and credibility as perceptions of psychological illnesses as legitimate conditions have taken hold. Now, society is more willing and committed to the treatment of psychological issues. Psychiatry and its practitioners are growing day by day, as is our understanding of mental health. 

Currently, this field is facing the same prescient issue that plagued many medical practices throughout history. Is it accessible to everyone who needs it? The current predicament goes beyond the socio-economic divisions that stand in the way of making care available to all communities. We still face the challenges of social stigmas, cultural biases, and even religious persecutions. 

One of the most rewarding and enlightening experiences I have had in the psychological field was my summer volunteering for an organization known as the Spastics Society. This non-profit organization is an entirely charity-based and community dependent program that works with underprivileged families in the local region. They offer educational services to intellectually challenged children whose parents can scarcely afford primary schooling, let alone specialized care. 

The staff, comprised almost entirely of volunteers, strives to assist these families in ensuring that their children can live up to their full potential. The teachers and caregivers work in conjunction with pro bono psychologists to provide quality education as well as to equip the parents with the necessary knowledge and skills to continue this care in their homes. Sadly, the society they live in is not the most accepting of differently-abled individuals. Like many cultures, those who live below the poverty line are often overlooked by medical facilities and professionals. Fortunately, there are people such as the directors of this organization dedicated to changing this perspective. They work diligently to bring public attention to the needs of these financially dependent families. 

These are not issues exclusive to the developing world. In the United States, some communities lack the support of insurance or simply might not speak the language common to medical institutions. It is in these cases that organizations such as the Casa De Salud can have the most impact. This organization works with professionals and local volunteers to offer affordable and integrative care to immigrant Spanish-speaking communities. With transparent pricing, translation services, education on rights and a commitment to continued care, they have been able to offer assistance to those who lack the means to find it elsewhere. Their innovative service provides an example of how the industry can be improved and reformed.

We can make psychological care a given right for all communities by striving to make our assistance accessible, affordable, and comprehensive. By committing to the furtherance of psychology across culture, class, and gender, we can ensure that its benefits can be continued in the long term. This is the future of psychological care in a modern age.

Documentary Review

I’ve never really known true struggle. This was a recurring thought going through my head as I watched Crip Camp: A Disability Revolution. We often view the civil rights movements of the late 20th century around a framework of race, religion and gender. These marginalized groups are unequivocally the face of the revolution that helped shape society as we know it today. However, there is an often overlooked minority within these already disenfranchised populations. The disabled community has been just as integral a part of this movement as any other. Arguably, their stakes were even higher. Regardless of their sex, religious or racial identity, people were foremost identified as disabled. You were a paraplegic before you were a woman. You were autistic before you were black or white. You were a “crip” before you were human. 

When first introduced to Camp Jened, I was expecting a regimented environment where the special needs of it campers would be the focal point. Instead I found myself struck by the normality of their interactions, the banality of their conversations. It forced me to reckon with my own prejudices and the ignorant perceptions of an outsider getting a closer look. Why wouldn’t it be normal? These were just a group of kids like any other who wished to to have a true camp experience forged in friendship, shared experiences, teen romances and humor. Being disabled was something they lived everyday. At Camp Jened, it wasn’t the itinerary, it was just something that connected all of them, something the could share and build on. I resolved to adjust my thinking accordingly. 

Then, I found myself falling back on my old views when I saw how certain aspects of life I took for granted were a different experience entirely for those who are differently abled. Whether the straightforward account of a woman impacted by polio not being afforded a place in her local school or the surprising reaction of another disabled woman who was told she might have gonorrhea, it became apparent that normality might not be quite within reach either. Or rather, what majority society viewed as normal. This was further enforced by one of the most striking quotes from the documentary; “I had to adapt and fit into this world that wasn’t built for me.” I now found myself questioning my earlier assumptions. How does one get treated as normal when the world has decided that the very nature of their existence is anything but?

This quandary extended into the status of the disabled community as written in civil liberties. The Rehabilitation Act in 1972 was meant to codify the rights of this group as equal citizens who had the rights to the access and resources afforded to everyone else. The uphill battle endured by the Disabled in Action group to ensure these most basic of rights was appalling. The expose of the Willow Brook hospital in New York spoke to a longer history mistreatment and dehumanization. From the early history of disability being viewed as a demonic in nature to the more contemporary institutionalization, society has long struggled with defining the status of the disabled community. Seeing the DIA, like so many other organizations of the time, fight back for their rights and refuse anything less was nothing short of inspiring. However, inspiration alone has never effected a revolution. 

The tenacious efforts of Judy Heumann and the assiduous initiative of the collective participants was the real reckoning. History is saturated with examples of how the collaboration and organization of like minded individual can be a vehicle for change. Even when their hard fought rights (Section 504) were challenged by the political transfer of leadership, Judy and her supporters continued to persist in advocating for reform. The occupation of the Health, Education and Welfare building was definitely a hard watch. The discomfort, and pain endured by members of the sit in was reflective of the demonstrative sacrifices of the Civil Rights movement as a whole. The ally-ship of the Black Panther party in their shared desire for a better world was the balm to this ache. 

This documentary helps define the capacity in which counselors, and the rest of us, can play our part in our own ally-ship with those who are differently abled. The best way to be an ally, counselor, representative or friend is to actively listen, to make sure their voices are heard. Despite the steadfast support and the media covered demonstrations, the government officials to which it was directed failed to respond appropriately. Ultimately, Judy and her partners had to address the politicians in Washington directly in order to get their attention. 

If we can learn from our history, then we can also learn from each other. Its important to speak up about what you believe in. Its even more important to let others speak their truth. This is the basis of counseling culture. The people who ask for help are not broken, or less than. We all require some form of support in order to succeed. If we can be that support for others, then all the better.