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  • The Story of Me: A Life in Songs

    A few months ago, I shared on Facebook about my dream band. I am not the lead singer. Instead, I am the mastermind behind an all-star lineup of incredible musicians. I also created a set list: a musical journey through my life.

    Since then, the idea has evolved. Some songs have shifted. Some meanings have deepened. I found myself wanting to explore more deeply why I chose each song. This blog post is my way of expanding that original idea into something fuller, something truer.

    This isn’t just a collection of songs I like—although, yes, I love every single one. These are songs that shaped me, challenged me, lifted me up, and made me who I am today. They are the soundtrack to every twist, turn, heartbreak, and triumph.

    These songs aren’t always ones I heard at the exact moment something happened in my life. Some came later, after the dust settled. Some found me when I didn’t even know I was looking. But each song helps me tell a part of my story. Each one shines a light on a chapter I lived—the good, the hard, the unforgettable. This is The Story of Me.

    Act 1: Roots and Dreams

    “Heartland” – George Strait

    Selected Lyric:

    “When you hear twin fiddles and a steel guitar, you’re listening to the sound of the American heart.”

    Reflection: Growing up, “Heartland” was always playing in the background of my life. It was not just a song, but also a feeling. My mom was a huge George Strait fan. She loved this song. I can’t even count how many times we watched the George Strait movie Pure Country together. It became part of the fabric of our home.

    This song speaks to my roots on the hobby farm in Minnesota. My childhood was shaped by open fields, hardworking days, and country values. I live in the city now. Whenever I hear this song, it takes me straight back to that life. It was simpler and more rugged. It’s a piece of home, stitched into the soundtrack of my story.

    “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” – Brooks & Dunn

    Selected Lyric:

    “Out in the country past the city limits sign, well there’s a honky-tonk near the county line.”

    Reflection: Whenever I hear “Boot Scootin’ Boogie,” I can’t help but smile — and I definitely can’t sit still.

    This song brings me back to trail rides, when the organizers would throw dances that felt like pure magic. I recall being out on the dance floor with our longtime friend Rita. She never once cared that I used a chair.

    We danced, we twirled, and we laughed until it felt like we could float. Rita’s smile was as much a part of the dance as the music itself.

    Even today, when this song pops up on a playlist, I can’t help but move a little. It sneaks onto the radio and I can’t resist it. For a moment, I’m right back there, boot scootin’ through a night full of freedom and joy.

    “Should’ve Been a Cowboy” – Toby Keith

    Selected Lyric:

    “I should’ve been a cowboy, I should’ve learned to rope and ride.”

    Reflection: Despite the wheelchair and my disability, part of me always dreamed of being a cowboy.

    Maybe it sounds silly. When you grow up on a farm surrounded by horses, animals, and wide skies, the dream just seeps into you. It becomes a part of your very being.

    “Should’ve Been a Cowboy” captures that longing. It represents the fantasy of freedom and adventure. It embodies a life lived on your own terms.

    It’s a song I also heard often at trail ride dances. It links it forever to memories of dusty boots. I remember late nights and a few wild spins around the dance floor.

    Even if I never got to ride off into the sunset, this song keeps that dream alive in me. It remains where it belongs.

    “Wide Open Spaces” – The Chicks

    Selected Lyric:

    “She needs wide open spaces, room to make her big mistakes.”

    Reflection: “Wide Open Spaces” is about growing up — about realizing you need more than the world you were given.

    When I graduated high school in 2002, my parents were understandably nervous. Their little boy was in a wheelchair. He had big dreams and an even bigger heart. He was stepping out into a world they couldn’t protect him from.

    At first, Hutchinson, Minnesota, was my stop. I knew almost immediately that it wasn’t where I was meant to land.

    I needed Minneapolis.

    The big city wasn’t just exciting — it was necessary. It was the place where I could finally begin to find myself. I was a queer person still wrestling with coming out. I was also a disabled person searching for real opportunity.

    This song became an anthem for that ache. It symbolized the hunger to live a life too big for the fences around me.

    “Heads Carolina, Tails California” – Jo Dee Messina

    Selected Lyric:

    “Heads Carolina, tails California, somewhere greener, somewhere warmer.”

    Reflection: “Heads Carolina, Tails California” fits into my story alongside “Wide Open Spaces”.

    It’s the other side of the same dream: the impulsive, wide-eyed yearning for more.

    “Wide Open Spaces” was the heavy ache of leaving. This song embodies the giddy hope. Somewhere — anywhere — could be the place where life would finally open up for me.

    It’s about grabbing freedom by the hand. You flip a coin. Trust that wherever you land, it will be yours to claim.

    Act 2: Searching and Struggling

    “Iris” – Goo Goo Dolls

    Selected Lyric:

    “I don’t want the world to see me, ’cause I don’t think that they’d understand.”

    Reflection: “Iris” captures a part of my story. It was heavy and complicated. It involved the long and messy process of starting to figure out who I really was.

    There was so much fear tangled up in that discovery.

    I didn’t want the world to see me, because deep down, I didn’t believe they would understand.

    People often struggle to see disabled people fully — to recognize us as complex, whole, feeling humans.

    They struggle even more to see queer disabled people.

    This song had the aching vocals and the haunting rhythm. It became a place where I could sink down into my feelings. I could be fully honest with myself about the isolation and the yearning.

    There was a stubborn, shining hope that somehow, someday, someone would understand.

    “Fast Car” – Tracy Chapman

    Selected Lyric:

    “You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere.”

    Reflection: “Fast Car” is about leaving the past behind. It is not about forgetting it or pretending it didn’t shape you. It is about choosing to move through the sticky, painful parts toward something better.

    It’s about believing in the possibility of more, even when everything you know is pulling you backward.

    This song became part of my story. There have been so many times I wanted — needed — to keep moving forward. I had to believe that something better was just down the road.

    It’s the soundtrack of resilience. It embodies stubborn hope. It represents not giving up on yourself even when the past tries to anchor you in place.

    “I’m Alright” – Jo Dee Messina

    Selected Lyric:

    “It’s a beautiful day, not a cloud in sight. So I guess I’m doin’ alright.”

    Reflection: There was a stretch of time in my life when everything felt heavy.

    I came out to my parents. It didn’t happen the way I had hoped. The experience caused a lot of hurt feelings, tears, and anguish on all sides.

    Around that same time, I also lost my Grandma Dokken. Watching her slowly slip away because of Alzheimer’s was devastating. It was even harder. My relationship with my other grandmother had always been strained by complicated family dynamics. This made the loss of Grandma Dokken cut even deeper.

    After all of that heartache, I came to a realization:

    I had gone through hard things.

    I had felt pain that hollowed me out.

    And still — I was going to be alright.

    This song became a quiet promise to myself.

    Not because everything was perfect.

    But because I was still standing.

    “Gravity” – Sara Bareilles

    Selected Lyric:

    “Set me free, leave me be, I don’t want to fall another moment into your gravity.”

    Reflection: Sara Bareilles originally wrote “Gravity” about a relationship. However, the song took on an entirely different meaning for me.

    For me, it became a conversation with my depression and anxiety. This was an invisible and relentless force. It always seemed to pull me back down into the depths of myself.

    It’s that painful tug you feel even when you’re trying so hard to move forward.

    It’s the exhaustion of fighting to stay afloat.

    This song became a mirror for that struggle — that exhausting, tender plea to my own mind: Let me go. Let me breathe. Let me be free.

    It’s not just sad; it’s truthful. It reminds me that even in the middle of that pull, I am aware. I am fighting. I am still here.

    “Angel” – Ellis Delaney

    Selected Lyric:

    “I need a little company, all I need is a pat on the back.”

    Reflection: Throughout my life, there have been so many moments when I’ve felt adrift. I was alone in the world. I was hanging on by a thread.

    “Angel” captures that ache perfectly. It conveys the quiet, desperate hope that someone might reach out, take my hand, and just be there.

    It’s not about needing someone to fix everything.

    It’s about needing a little company and a little comfort. It’s also a reminder that the path is mine alone to walk. However, I don’t have to walk it completely alone.

    Whenever I hear this song, it brings me back to those hard moments. It reminds me that it’s okay to need others. It’s okay to reach for connection. It’s okay to ask for an angel when the night feels too heavy.

    Act 3: Loyalty, Loss, and Love

    “Ride” – Amanda Marshall

    Selected Lyric:

    “If you’re out of inspiration, all you feel is desperation. Consider this an invitation — I’ll be your ride.”

    Reflection: College was where I found some of the best people I’ve ever known.

    Even 20 years later, we’re still connected — not just in memories, but in life.

    They’ve blessed me with the honor of being godfather to one of their children. This gift still humbles me beyond words.

    These friends are my ride-or-die crew. They are the ones I would drop everything for, without a second thought. I know they would do the same for me.

    “Ride” perfectly captures that spirit. It embodies the fierce loyalty. It reflects the deep-rooted love. The unspoken promise holds that no matter where life takes us, we’re riding it together.

    “When It Don’t Come Easy” – Keri Noble

    Selected Lyric:

    “But if you break down, I’ll drive out and find you.”

    Reflection: “When It Don’t Come Easy” is a quieter promise, but no less fierce.

    Over the years, I’ve had friendships that have weathered storms — real storms, the kind you don’t walk through unscathed.

    We’ve stood by each other during our lowest, messiest, most broken moments.

    This song is my way of saying:

    I got you.

    When things fall apart, I’ll come looking for you. When it feels like you can’t take another step, I’ll be the one who finds you.

    I’ll bring you home.

    No judgment, no expectations — just love.

    This song reminds me that sometimes the most powerful thing you can do for someone is simply stay.

    “Beat You There” – Will Dempsey

    Selected Lyric:

    “Don’t cry for me, I’m alright. I’m better than you know.”

    Reflection: “Beat You There” cuts deep into my story.

    I found this song not long after Dempsey — my first service dog, my companion, my constant — passed away.

    That loss tore a hole in me.

    Finding this song gave me something to hold onto during that time. Hearing Will Dempsey sing about love, loss, and the bittersweet promise of reunion provided comfort.

    It felt like Dempsey’s spirit was speaking back to me somehow. This was not just because of the name. It was because of the deep, aching truth woven into every word.

    “Beat You There” isn’t just about grief.

    It’s about remembrance, loyalty, and hope. We hold the hope that wherever our loved ones go, we will meet them again someday.

    Whenever I hear this song, I imagine raising a glass in a quiet toast:

    You beat me there. But one day, I’ll see you again.

    Act 4: Becoming

    “Wonder” – Natalie Merchant

    Selected Lyric:

    “They say I must be one of the wonders, God’s own creation.”

    Reflection: Growing up, people doubted my ability.

    Hell, even now — at 41 years old — people still doubt my ability.

    “Wonder” resonates with that feeling deeply.

    It’s not a song of anger or resentment.

    It’s a quiet, unshakable declaration: I am here. I am whole. I am wondrous, whether you see it or not.

    This song reminds me that I don’t have to fit anyone’s idea of what “ability” should be. I define what “success” should look like.

    I exist. I thrive.

    And in that, I am a wonder.

    “Days Like These” – Janis Ian

    Selected Lyric:

    “When the one thing left is the blessing of my dreams, I can make my peace with days like these.”

    Reflection: My aunt introduced me to Janis Ian when I was in college.

    I was initially attracted to the faster songs. These included those with driving rhythms like “God and the FBI.”

    But over time, “Days Like These” started to hit differently.

    It’s a quieter song, but it carries a heavy, beautiful truth:

    After all the struggle, all the loss, and all the hardship, the blessing of my dreams is enough. I have endured a lot. If I still have the people I love, then it’s enough.

    It’s not about pretending life is easy.

    It’s about recognizing that even on the hard days, especially on those challenging days, there’s still something strong and sacred. It’s worth holding onto these things.

    This song reminds me that survival isn’t just about getting through. It’s about carrying your dreams forward. This is true even when the skies stay dry a little too long.

    “Hometown” – Brandon Stansell

    Selected Lyric:

    “I should say thank you, ’cause now I finally know who I really am.”

    Reflection: Growing up in rural Minnesota was hard.

    There were so many things that made me feel alone. The small-town expectations were overwhelming. There were also the unspoken judgments. No matter how much I tried, I felt I would never quite fit into the mold laid out for me.

    But “Hometown” reminds me of the hard conversations and the quiet heartaches. Even through all of that, my hometown shaped me.

    It made me strong.

    It gave me the roots I needed, even if it took leaving to figure that out.

    I can’t change the past.

    And that’s okay.

    Now I know exactly who I am. It is not in spite of where I came from, but in some ways because of it.

    “Invisible” – Hunter Hayes

    Selected Lyric:

    “There’s so much more to life than what you’re feeling now.”

    Reflection: “Invisible” is the song I would sing to my younger self. I would sing it to the queer kid who felt unseen. They felt misunderstood and out of place.

    It’s also the song I would sing for every young person struggling to find their way. They are struggling to believe that they matter.

    Growing up, it often felt like I was invisible. It felt like who I was deep down didn’t fit into the world around me. Maybe it never would.

    This song is a promise:

    It will get better.

    You are seen.

    There’s so much more waiting for you beyond the smallness of this moment.

    You are not broken.

    You are not alone.

    You are not invisible.

    “Brave” – Sara Bareilles

    Selected Lyric:

    “Say what you wanna say, and let the words fall out.”

    Reflection: “Brave” is about finally finding the courage to say what you need to say.

    It’s about stepping into the space you were once too afraid to claim.

    For so long, fear kept me quiet. I was afraid of being misunderstood. I feared being judged. I worried about being too much or not enough.

    But bravery doesn’t mean you’re not scared.

    It means you speak anyway.

    This song reminds me — and challenges me — to keep choosing honesty, even when it’s hard.

    It’s an anthem for every moment I opened my mouth. I spoke my truth. I took one more step toward being fully, unapologetically myself.

    “Soar” – Christina Aguilera

    Selected Lyric:

    “Don’t be scared to fly alone. Find a path that is your own.”

    Reflection: “Soar” lives in the same spirit as “Brave”:

    It’s about stepping into who you are without apology.

    It’s about refusing to shrink, refusing to bend yourself to fit the world’s expectations.

    This song reminds me that bravery isn’t just about speaking your truth. It’s about living it. This is true even when the path feels lonely.

    “Soar” is the reminder that the world is mine to claim. I don’t have to wait for permission to build a life that feels true.

    It’s not about becoming someone else.

    It’s about finding — and loving — the person I’ve always been meant to be.

    “This Is Me” – Keala Settle (The Greatest Showman)

    Selected Lyric:

    “I am brave, I am bruised, I am who I’m meant to be. This is me.”

    Reflection: “This Is Me” is the culmination of everything I’ve lived, everything I’ve fought through, everything I’ve become.

    It’s the moment I finally stand up and say:

    This is who I am.

    If you don’t like it, I don’t care.

    I’ve spent enough of my life shrinking, apologizing, trying to fit where I was never meant to fit.

    Now, I choose to take up space.

    Now, I choose to be seen.

    Bruised, brave, whole — exactly as I am.

    Encore

    “Gently We Row” – Melissa Etheridge

    Selected Lyric:

    “Slow, slow, this river is slow. We’re all out here on our own. Row, row, gently we row. One day we’ll find our way home.”

    Reflection: If there’s a final note to this story, it’s “Gently We Row.”

    Life isn’t a race.

    It’s not about having all the answers.

    It’s about moving forward, one step at a time. Take each moment as it comes. Do the best you can with what you have.

    This song reminds me that none of us really know exactly where we’re headed, and that’s okay.

    It’s okay to stumble.

    It’s okay to search.

    It’s okay to dream.

    What matters is that we keep rowing gently. We do so determinedly through the slow, winding river of life. We trust that someday, somehow, we’ll find our way home.

    And maybe the real magic isn’t in the finding.

    Maybe it’s in the rowing itself.

    Final Invitation

    Music tells a story. This one is mine.

    If you’ve never heard some of these songs or artists before, I encourage you to check them out. You might discover new music you love—and maybe, through that music, a little piece of who I am.

    Want to hear the full soundtrack?

    You can listen right here:

    What songs would be on your life’s soundtrack? I’d love to hear your set list. Drop it in the comments below!

  • A Revolution Remembered: 250 Years After the Shot Heard ’Round the World

    On April 19, 1775, British troops marched toward Concord to seize weapons. What they found instead was resistance. Ordinary farmers and tradesmen—Minutemen—stood their ground at Lexington. A single shot rang out. No one knows who fired it.

    But that one act of defiance became the spark that lit the American Revolution. That shot, the “shot heard ’round the world,” was not about war—it was about refusal. Refusal to be ruled without representation. Refusal to surrender liberty to unchecked power.

    Two hundred and fifty years later, we are again facing a moment of reckoning. Not with muskets, but with microphones. Not with bayonets, but with ballots and bold voices. The question before us now is the same one our founders asked themselves. Will we allow one person to dictate the future of the many?

    I am a disability advocate. I am deeply invested in civic participation. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what real representation looks like. I don’t just study history—I live its consequences. We can see the struggle when navigating inaccessible systems. We also witness it as democratic norms erode in real time. It’s clear that the fight for equity and accountability didn’t end in 1776. In fact, it’s happening right now.

    Today, in 2025, I find myself reflecting on that revolutionary spirit—and wondering how far we’ve strayed from its core principles.

    We now have a President who increasingly behaves as though he alone can decide what’s best for the country. He is circumventing the proper chain of constitutional authority. The office of the presidency is growing disturbingly monarchical. This change is due to sweeping executive orders and claims that other branches are “in the way.”

    What’s worse is that many in Congress, across both parties, are allowing it. The legislative branch should act as a check on power. Instead, it has become largely passive. This passivity enables the President to do whatever he sees fit.

    Even the judicial branch has begun picking and choosing which executive actions to confront, leaving accountability up to political whim. If the courts do rule against the President, there is a growing concern he may simply choose to ignore them. This is because the judiciary, for all its authority, has no enforcement power.

    If the executive no longer respects the rulings of the courts, democracy is not occurring. If the executive fails to adhere to the laws passed by Congress, democracy is not occurring. It is authoritarianism cloaked in American institutions.

    What the Constitution Actually Says

    Our government was deliberately designed to prevent this very kind of power consolidation. The Founders, having just fought a war to escape monarchy, built a system rooted in checks and balances.

    • Article I of the U.S. Constitution gives Congress the power to make laws.
    • Article II outlines the duties of the executive branch, which is to enforce the laws—not to write them.
    • Article III gives the judiciary the power to interpret those laws.

    These three branches are meant to restrain each other, not serve one another. A President may issue executive orders, but those do not carry the same weight as laws passed by the legislature. They are meant to clarify enforcement—not create new legal frameworks.

    The Federalist Papers Warned Us

    Even in the 1780s, the Founders feared the possibility of executive overreach. In Federalist No. 47, James Madison famously wrote:

    “The accumulation of all powers, legislative, executive, and judiciary, in the same hands… may justly be pronounced the very definition of tyranny.”

    And in Federalist No. 51, he reinforced the vital need for institutional limits on power:

    “Ambition must be made to counteract ambition… It may be a reflection on human nature, that such devices should be necessary to control the abuses of government. But what is government itself, but the greatest of all reflections on human nature?”

    These weren’t just lofty ideals. They were warnings from men who had lived under unchecked rule—and refused to let it happen again.

    History Doesn’t Just Repeat—It Responds

    The Revolution wasn’t a one-time event. It was a stand for enduring principles: representative government, accountability, and the rule of law. Every time we allow a single branch—especially the executive—to override or ignore the others, we betray that legacy.

    This isn’t about party lines. It’s about constitutional lines. If we let any President, of any party, expand their authority unchecked, we risk transforming the presidency into something unrecognizable. Something we once fought to be free from.

    Real-World Example: Immigration and the Alien Enemies Act

    The most urgent and alarming example of executive overreach in 2025 is the revival of the Alien Enemies Act. This is an obscure law passed in 1798. It gives the President sweeping powers to detain or deport non-citizens from hostile nations during times of war.

    President Trump’s administration has invoked this law to target and deport Venezuelan migrants. Many of these migrants had legal status, including visas, humanitarian protections, or pending asylum claims.

    The justification? Alleged—but unproven—ties to criminal gangs or national security concerns. In many cases, these individuals were given no warning. No chance to contest the accusations. No hearings. No due process. Just detention and removal.

    The American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) and immigration advocates have challenged the policy in court. They argue it is a clear violation of the Constitution’s due process guarantees. Even the U.S. Supreme Court temporarily stepped in to block certain deportations.

    The larger concern remains: What if a President can ignore the courts? They could revoke legal visas and strip people of their rights with a signature. What protections are left then?

    This is not just an immigration issue. It’s a constitutional crisis. A President is using a 200+ year-old wartime law to unilaterally remove people. This occurs without oversight, without evidence, and without legal recourse. This action is exactly the kind of authoritarian overreach the Founders feared.

    Personal Reflection & Call to Action

    I advocate for marginalized communities. Rights can quickly be erased when those in power stop listening to the law. They start listening only to themselves. This moment isn’t about politics. It’s about people. And the systems that are supposed to protect them.

    To uphold the integrity of our democratic system, it’s imperative that we, as citizens, engage actively in the political process. This includes:

    • Advocacy: Contacting legislators to express concerns about executive overreach and urging them to assert their constitutional role in policy making.
    • Education: Staying informed about governmental actions and understanding their implications on various communities.
    • Participation: Voting in elections, attending town halls, and participating in public discourse to influence policy decisions.

    We the People Are Still the Safeguard

    We may not be standing on a battlefield. We may not hear the crack of muskets or the gallop of horses. But make no mistake: we are in the midst of a revolution.

    This one may not be started by a single shot—but it can be started by a louder voice.

    A voice that refuses silence. A voice that challenges overreach. A voice that demands the democracy we were promised.

    Our founders lit the fire of liberty with action. We must ensure it keeps burning. This requires awareness, advocacy, and an unwavering insistence that power must always serve the people—not rule them.

    Sources & References

    U.S. Constitution – Full Text: https://constitution.congress.gov/constitution/

    Federalist No. 47 – James Madison: https://guides.loc.gov/federalist-papers/text-41-50#s-lg-box-wrapper-25493412

    Federalist No. 51 – James Madison: https://guides.loc.gov/federalist-papers/text-51-60#s-lg-box-wrapper-25493413

    History.com – Lexington and Concord: https://www.history.com/topics/american-revolution/battles-of-lexington-and-concord

    Vanity Fair – Deportations and the Alien Enemies Act: https://www.vanityfair.com/news/story/supreme-court-blocks-trumps-use-of-wartime-law-for-deportation

  • More Than Qualified, Still Overlooked: One Disabled Worker’s Truth

    The Harsh Reality of Disability and Employment

    Finding a job is hard. Finding one as a person with a disability? Often twice as hard—and half as fair.

    Despite decades of progress, people with disabilities still face enormous hurdles in the workforce. From inaccessible interviews to discrimination that’s harder to prove than to feel, the disability employment gap remains stubbornly wide. As of 2024, only about 22.5% of people with disabilities are employed, compared to 65.8% of non-disabled people, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. And now, with looming threats to Social Security programs, the urgency to find stable, fulfilling work is greater than ever.

    Balancing Purpose and Pay

    I have been looking for more financially stable work for quite some time. I love what I do right now. However, I need something more reliable regarding the amount of money I can bring in.

    I am also looking for jobs that will feed my soul. They should not drain my emotional and physical energy. I know that might seem like taking the easy way out. Throughout my life, I’ve learned that being in draining positions harms my overall well-being.

    Many people with disabilities face the same struggle. They try to balance physical or mental health needs with the demand for financial stability. It’s not just about wanting a job. It’s about finding one that doesn’t push you past your limits.

    A 2022 study by Accenture found a significant correlation. Companies that embraced disability inclusion were twice as likely to outperform their peers in profitability. They also had improved productivity. Yet, many of us never get the chance to show what we can do.

    Living on the Edge of Uncertainty

    I am in a rather unique situation. I do receive SSDI. This allows me to be more selective about the work I do. I am also aware of the changes the current administration is trying to make to Social Security.

    You should look for alternate sources of income. This is important in case there is a stoppage in the SSDI checks you receive. According to the Social Security Administration’s 2024 Trustees Report, the trust fund is projected to be depleted by 2033. Reforms are necessary to avoid depletion.

    The Job Search: A Loop of Silence and Rejection

    In the past six months, I have submitted countless applications. Most of the time, I don’t hear anything back. Then there are rare instances where I get to interview. I don’t know if I suck at the interview process. I don’t know if it’s because I am a wheelchair user. Maybe it’s because I have a service dog. Usually, after that first interview, I get the dreaded response. It says: “After careful consideration, we have decided to move forward with other candidates.” Their experience more closely aligns with our current needs.

    Statistically, this kind of experience isn’t unusual. According to the National Organization on Disability, many employers still have biases. They also have inaccessible workplaces and a lack of inclusive practices. These conditions make it harder for disabled applicants to be hired or promoted. These invisible barriers reinforce the frustrating reality many disabled job seekers face. You can be qualified, capable, and enthusiastic. Yet, you might still be overlooked.

    My Work History: Then and Now

    I have been working on and off since I was 14 years old. During the summer of 1998, I had my first taste of what a job would be like. I was taking summer classes in the Twin Cities thanks to the generosity of my aunts. They had an amazing friend who worked as a head chef at a hotel near the airport. They were willing to give me a chance at what I can now only describe as something of an internship. Arrangements had been made for me to “work” one day a week. Despite this, I still had to interview with the head chef. I was scared and nervous and excited all at the same time.

    My first official summer job was at the Swift County Recorder’s Office in the summer of 2000. It was an exciting experience, even though the job was simple: scanning documents to be digitized. It gave me more responsibility and a little bit of spending money. I worked so much that I burned through the allotted funds that paid my wages. The following summer, I had a similar job with the county’s Soil and Water Conservation Office. Again, it was a simple job but taught me a lot about responsibility.

    These early jobs weren’t glamorous, but they helped shape my work ethic. I was learning to navigate a world. This world was not designed with me in mind, like it wasn’t for many other young adults with disabilities. According to the National Organization on Disability, workplace biases persist. Inaccessible environments remain. Additionally, a lack of inclusive practices continues to be a major roadblock to employment for disabled individuals.

    Campus Jobs, First Steps, and New Lessons

    The summer after my senior year of high school, I didn’t work. Not because I couldn’t get a job, but because I wanted one last summer of freedom before college. During college, I held a few on-campus jobs. While living in Hutchinson, I worked part-time as a tutor. To be honest, I don’t even remember what subject I tutored. However, I do remember getting a letter from the county about not reporting the $65 I earned. I had no idea I needed to at the time.

    At Augsburg, I had a variety of jobs. I helped the campus LGBTQ+ organization with their website and digital advertising. I was also a tour guide for the admissions office. My focus was often giving tours to prospective students with mobility challenges.

    A Decade of Retail—and Then, the Curtain Closed

    After graduation, I was fortunate to land a temp job with a downtown Minneapolis staffing agency. I was surprised they hired me, but I guess when you’re a temp, they take whoever they can get. That role lasted about eight months, and then I was unemployed again. I submitted many applications back then. It felt like a lot. I rarely heard anything back.

    Eventually, I applied at Best Buy. They had a location at the Mall of America. It was easy for me to get to. I’d never worked retail in my life and barely shopped at Best Buy before. I remember the hiring process. There was a phone interview. Then there was a group interview (my first ever). I felt completely out of place during it. I didn’t say much because I didn’t know what to say. Somehow, I said enough to move on to the final interview and land the job.

    Originally, it was supposed to be a seasonal role, but they decided to keep me on part-time after the holidays. I continued working at Best Buy for nearly 10 years. Over time, I shifted into different departments and eventually landed a full-time position. It was nice having PTO and a consistent paycheck.

    Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to last. In the summer of 2018, Best Buy closed that location. I considered applying to the nearby Richfield store and even had a few interviews there, but it felt different. They seemed more hesitant to hire someone with my “unique abilities.” It didn’t work out, but I received a decent severance package and took a much-needed three-month break.

    That hesitation? It mirrors what many disabled workers experience. Too many hiring processes contain a subtle skepticism. There’s a belief that accommodating a disabled employee is more trouble than it’s worth. But data and my own personal experience contradicts that. Studies show that providing accommodations often costs less than $500, and the long-term benefits—employee retention, morale, and diversity—are invaluable.

    I did a training video in 2017 while I was with Best Buy on this exact issue. My general manager and I were featured in a video about workplace accessibility. The video highlighted how simple accommodations can make a huge difference in supporting disabled employees. These include clear communication, flexibility, and simple adjustments to schedules and the layout of an eight-foot section. For example, the management made the point-of-sale terminal more accessible. This change helped me ring out customers in my department.

    All they had to do was remove a section of shelving to lower the register. It didn’t just work for me—it worked for everyone. While the video is now unlisted, it remains one of the proudest accomplishments of my time there and is still featured on my LinkedIn profile as a reminder of what true inclusion can look like in action

    Where I Am Now—and Where I Want to Go

    In the fall of 2018, I landed my current role at U.S. Bank Stadium. I love the staff I work with—it’s a great environment. Things have changed a lot since returning post-COVID, but I don’t see myself leaving anytime soon. That said, hours have been very limited since the pandemic. I need something that provides more financial stability.

    In 2021, I met Amy B., a personal trainer specializing in inclusive fitness. She created Fit with Amy B to provide training for people of all abilities. I improved my own health through her program. She also brought me on to help behind the scenes making everything run smoothly. She saw the benefit of having people with disabilities not only workout with her. They also worked with her to bring greater awareness to healthy living, regardless of your abilities. I truly loved what I did for Amy. I have yet to find another job that offered the same level of flexibility. It also provided fulfillment.

    Unfortunately, SSDI barely covers my monthly expenses. It doesn’t give me the flexibility to do the things I enjoy, like traveling or going out with friends. Living on a fixed income can be incredibly limiting.

    According to the National Organization on Disability, many people with disabilities face financial insecurity. They also encounter systemic bias and physical barriers. These obstacles prevent equal access to job opportunities.

    And yet, studies by Accenture show that companies prioritizing disability inclusion perform well. They are also twice as likely to be innovative.

    The Bigger Picture: You’re Not Just Hearing My Story

    This isn’t just my story. It’s the story of many people in the disability community. They want to work. They are ready to work. They constantly run into walls—both visible and invisible. It’s time to break those walls down.

    Call to Action

    We need employers, policymakers, and communities to step up. Employers must rethink hiring practices to eliminate bias and prioritize inclusion. Lawmakers need to protect Social Security and invest in programs that support people with disabilities, not strip them away. And for those reading this: listen to our stories. Share them. Advocate for change. Because no one should be shut out of opportunity simply because society hasn’t caught up to our potential.

    Sources:

  • The Cost of Loyalty: What It Takes to Be a Season Ticket Holder

    The Cost of Loyalty: What It Takes to Be a Season Ticket Holder

    I wasn’t planning to write this today. I sit here and look out at the dreary Minnesota sky. I know there’s a significant chance I won’t attend tonight’s Minnesota United FC match. I felt like I needed to put some thoughts down.

    Quick note: I’m part of AccessiLoons—Minnesota United FC’s first and only supporter group focused on accessibility and inclusion. However, everything I share here is based on my personal experience. It doesn’t reflect the views of the group.

    This will be the second game I’ve missed this season—and not because I’ve lost interest or stopped caring. Far from it. I’ve been a season ticket holder since 2015. That was long before the team joined MLS and before Allianz Field was even a blueprint. Supporting this team has been one of the most consistent and joyful parts of my life.

    But tonight, like many nights, I’m forced to weigh the realities of being a fan with a disability. The weather is cold, windy, and there’s a chance of rain or snow. And rain and power chairs don’t mix well.

    After last weekend’s afternoon match, my wheelchair started to malfunction on the way home. Thankfully, I made it back safely and the issue didn’t repeat itself—but moments like that stick with you.

    Every time I head out in this type of weather, there’s that voice in the back of my mind:

    • “Is my chair going to malfunction again?”
    • “Will I get stranded somewhere?”
    • “What do I do if something goes wrong?”

    It makes you cautious at times about leaving the house.

    This post isn’t just about one missed game. It’s about what it really takes to be a loyal fan in 2025—financially, physically, and emotionally.

    When Passion Meets Practicality

    I’ve always budgeted for my season tickets. When I was working full time, the yearly price increases didn’t hit as hard. Even during the pandemic, I had enough money coming in to keep my seats. Soccer was one of the few constants during an unpredictable time.

    But when the world reopened, my income didn’t bounce back as ticket prices continued to rise. Something that once felt like a justifiable splurge now feels like a financial stretch.

    Still, giving them up feels impossible. Supporting this team is part of my identity. It’s how I connect with friends. It’s where I feel community. But loyalty, especially on a fixed or limited income, comes with a price—and that price keeps going up.

    Accessibility Isn’t Just About Seats

    Being a fan with a disability adds another layer to all of this.

    Sometimes, I simply can’t attend—even when I want to. The home opener in March is always a weather gamble, and this year was no exception. That was in the evening—and I had just worked an afternoon shift at U.S. Bank Stadium. I was already cold and running low on energy. I didn’t know if I had the stamina—or the body regulation—to sit through the full match.

    As someone with limited mobility, I can’t generate much body heat. Once the sun goes down, so does the temperature—and so does my ability to safely enjoy the game.

    I made it to the match the weekend before because it was an early afternoon kickoff. It was still cold, but the sun made it manageable. That little bit of warmth made all the difference.

    And then after the issues with my wheelchair after last weeks game there’s the added layer of equipment concerns. It was enough to shake my confidence. Now, every time I head out , I have to ask:

    • What if my chair stops working?
    • What if I get stuck far from home?
    • Who do I call?
    • Will anyone be able to help?

    That kind of risk doesn’t factor into most fans’ decisions to attend a match. For disabled fans, it’s part of the mental math every single time.

    To be clear, many of these challenges aren’t unique to Minnesota United or Allianz Field. The stadium staff has generally been supportive, and there are accessible features in place. But even well-designed venues can fall short when the full spectrum of disability isn’t considered. These issues show up in stadiums across the country—and they’re often invisible to those who don’t live with them.

    Some of the most common barriers disabled fans face include:

    • Cold or extreme temperatures that are dangerous for fans with mobility or circulation limitations.
    • The distances from parking or public transit stops are long. They can feel like a marathon for those with fatigue. This is also true for those with chronic pain.
    • Crowded concourses and bottlenecks that create safety issues for wheelchair users and others needing space.
    • Ticket policies with little flexibility, even when health issues make last-minute changes necessary.
    • Energy management challenges—sometimes, it’s not about willpower. It’s about knowing your body has limits.

    The Marketplace Problem

    When I can’t attend, I turn to the SeatGeek Marketplace to resell my tickets. But that experience isn’t fan-friendly either.

    I need to list the tickets above face value to cover SeatGeek’s 10% seller fee. This is necessary to just break even. On top of that, buyers are charged another 10% fee. That’s a 20% markup just for a resale—not to make a profit, just to avoid losing money. And guess what? Most people won’t pay that.

    So now, I’m out the money, and I missed the game. It adds insult to injury.

    Lately, I’ve found myself quietly wondering what the future holds. I’m not ready to give up my season ticket membership yet. However, I’m starting to reevaluate things. The rising costs, the physical strain, the uncertainty that comes with each game—it all adds up.

    At some point, I may have to ask myself whether this version of loyalty is still sustainable for me. I love this team. I’m not going anywhere as a supporter. However, being a season ticket holder might look different down the road.

    Let’s Do Better—for All Fans

    If you work for a team, a supporter group, or even a ticketing platform, ask yourself a question. What are you doing to make sure disabled fans are fully included?

    Accessibility isn’t just about wheelchair spaces or ADA check boxes. It’s about understanding the full picture. This includes weather risks, energy limits, and malfunctioning mobility equipment. Resale policies also matter. Then, there is the emotional toll of being excluded from something you love.

    If you’re not thinking about all types of access, you’re leaving people behind.

  • Holding Onto Love: A Reflection on Loss and Love

    I’m sitting here writing my next story when Wherever You Are by my friend Ellis starts playing in my ears. Just like that, memories flood my mind. They are the people who have passed on and left this world.

    “I’m still here, after I’m gone. In the birds singing their love songs, in the summer sun let me warm your heart. ‘Cause I will always be wherever you are.” – Ellis Delaney

    Three years ago today, my Grandma Marlys Hoiland passed on to whatever is next. These are my thoughts and feelings through the lens of a child, and now an adult. Sometimes, we just need to put words to the emotions we carry. For me, this was one of those times.

    There is just something about grandparents. As a little kid, I feel like I spent a lot of my time with her and my Grandpa Roger. I vaguely remember the Easter Bunny stopping at her house instead of mine. I think we were staying with Grandpa and Grandma. Mom and Dad were gone somewhere.

    One of the coolest things about her? She was a school bus driver. When we went on field trips, there was always a chance she’d be the one behind the wheel. For little me, that was the best thing ever.

    Grandma Marlys standing in the snow next to a yellow school bus with ‘Benson School District 777’ written on the side.

    But when my grandpa Roger passed in the summer of 1994, things changed. I was just a kid—too young to fully understand what was happening, but old enough to feel the shift. I wanted to spend time with my grandma, but I was afraid to ask. The issues the adults in my life had with each other weren’t mine to carry, but they affected me anyway. So I kept my distance because I didn’t want to make things difficult.

    Years later, when I moved to Hutchinson to attend college, I got the chance to reconnect with her. It felt like I was trying to make up for lost time. I made a point to enjoy the moments we had, and to be present. I didn’t bring up the past or the complicated family dynamics—I just wanted to be her grandson.

    Grandma Marlys sitting next to Levi, both wearing glasses, in a cozy living room setting.

    Then life took me to the big city, and time slipped away again. As things settled down at school, I promised myself I’d see her at least once a year. I kept that promise for many years. I was lucky to have an amazing friend. He would drive me the two-and-a-half-hour drive, just so I could spend an hour or so with her. We shared a meal and a laugh.

    Grandma Marlys in a blue hoodie, resting her arm on her Levi's as they sit close together in a warmly lit home setting.

    When she got sick, we all knew time was short. The family planned a birthday party for her, knowing it would be her last. Once again, my friends rallied around me. They drove me back to that small town. This allowed me to be there. I told her I loved her. I told her I was sorry I didn’t do more. I felt it deeply in my heart. I knew it would be the last time I’d get to say what I had been holding onto for years.

    On March 20, 2022, she passed. One final time, my friends stood by me. They drove me to her funeral because they knew—just as I did—that I needed to be there.

    “If you don’t want to, don’t say goodbye. Say I’ll see you around the next time.” – Ellis Delaney

    As a child, I didn’t have control over the choices being made around me. I felt powerless to bridge the gaps that had formed. But as an adult, I can make my own choices.

    I can choose to reach out, to show up, to hold onto the people I love while they’re still here. I can choose not to let the past dictate my present.

    I am not capable of changing what happened, but I can learn from it. And I can make sure that when I look back, I have no regrets about the love I’ve given.

    Love is something we can choose to hold onto, even when time and distance try to pull us apart. It’s in the memories, the laughter, and the simple moments we share.

    I carry my love for Grandma Marlys with me, not just in my heart. It is clear in how I choose to live. I strive to be present. I cherish those I care about. I also never let love go unspoken.

    I can’t change the past. I can only strive to be a better person. I aim to do what I know is right. I want to honor the people I love while I still have time.

    I love you, Grandma Marlys. Always.

    Check out my friend Ellis Delaney and their song Wherever You Are on Bandcamp.

  • Here We Go Again

    I Hate Writing About This, But I Have To

    I don’t like talking about politics on social media, and I certainly don’t like writing about it here. But this isn’t about politics—it’s about livelihood.

    I feel like I’ve written this post a dozen times. I hate that I have to keep writing about government funding, budget cuts, and restructuring. I hate that every few months, I have to sit down and explain. Once again, I must clarify why Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid aren’t just line items on a budget. They are lifelines for millions of people, including myself.

    I wish I didn’t have to keep writing about this. I won’t stay silent until I am confident that my future is safe. The future of millions of others must also be safe for me to stay silent. Because the moment we stop speaking out, those in power believe they can do whatever they want.

    Why This Matters (Again)

    There’s talk of making deep cuts to Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid. Do I think it’ll happen? Maybe not to the extent being proposed, but the fact that it’s even a possibility is terrifying. Medicaid/Medicare is a life line for people like me.

    If it does happen, here’s what it means for me:

    • SSDI helps cover my portion of household bills and the costs of having a service dog. I work part-time, but last year, I made about $1,600 before taxes—not nearly enough to live on.
    • Medicare covers my $50,000 power wheelchair. If they slash funding, approvals for equipment and repairs could take months. If my chair breaks down, my independence is gone.
    • Medicare and Medicaid cover my PCA (Personal Care Assistant) hours. These hours help me conserve energy. This way, I can focus on things that bring me joy. Examples of these activities are writing and spending time with friends. If they take those hours away, I risk serious health consequences. Even a reduction means needing a shoulder replacement sooner rather than later.

    And then there’s Jason, my longtime PCA, who also relies on this income. If his hours are cut, he loses a major source of financial stability. That means losing our home. It’s that simple.

    This isn’t just about me. This is about millions of people—seniors, disabled folks, low-income families—who depend on these programs to survive.

    In a recent Disability Scoop post dated March 19, 2025, they tell the story of Xavier. He has a rare genetic immune disorder. It undermines his body’s ability to fight disease. California’s Medicaid program, Medi-Cal, provides Xavier with the treatments he needs. It offers resources to his family as well. This support helps him live as normal of a life as possible.

    His mother is quoted saying:

    “It’s allowed him to go to school. It’s allowed him to be home and not living in a hospital 24 hours a day,”

    Parents of children with special health care needs aren’t the only ones raising concerns about potential cuts. Disability advocates, health care providers, budget analysts, and state lawmakers have also voiced alarm. The House proposal passed on February 25 does not explicitly call for Medicaid cuts.

    Nonetheless, it instructs the House Energy and Commerce Committee. This committee oversees the program. It needs to find $880 billion in savings over the next decade. According to experts, reaching that level of savings would be nearly impossible without reducing Medicaid funding.

    I Hate Writing About This, But I Can’t Stop

    Every time I write about Social Security or Medicare or government cuts, I feel like a broken record. I’ve covered this before:

    And yet, here we are again.

    I wish I could stop writing about this. I wish I could move on. But I can’t. The second we stop talking about it, the people in power win. The moment we get exhausted and say “Oh well, nothing we can do,” they triumph.

    What Can We Do?

    • Talk about it.
      • Even if it feels repetitive, even if it’s exhausting—keep the conversation going.
    • Contact your legislators.
      • I know, I know—Congress is a mess. But if enough of us make noise, they have to listen.
    • Get your story out there.
      • Talk to the media.
      • Write to local newspapers.
      • Use social media.

    I don’t want to write another post like this in six days, in six weeks, or in six months. But if I have to, I will.

    Because this isn’t politics. This is life.

    Read More:

  • Left Behind by the Democrats

    Left Behind by the Democrats

    Over the past few months, I’ve written extensively about the changes unfolding in our government. I’ve also discussed their impact on our communities.

    There have been drastic budget cuts to Social Security. There is also an urgent need for reform in Minnesota’s disability services. I’ve delved into the pressing issues that affect us all. I’ve also explored the challenges faced by the LGBTQIA+ community, highlighting the growing need for advocacy and support.

    Amid these discussions, I’ve felt an increasing urge to share more of my personal story. Shortly after the 2024 presidential election, I wrote a piece that I wasn’t quite ready to publish. It was raw, emotional, and an honest reflection on feeling left behind by the Democratic Party. While I shared it with a few close friends, I hesitated to make it public. I wasn’t sure how it would be received—and, frankly, I wasn’t ready for the potential backlash.

    I continue writing about the state of our nation and the impacts of policy changes on disability support services. I realize that my personal story is an essential part of this broader conversation.

    The emotions I felt in November 2024 still resonate. They affect not just me but many others too. These emotions reach those who feel disconnected, disillusioned, and left behind.

    Today, I’m ready to share this piece with you. I’ve made some edits to improve readability and included links to cited sources. My hope is that it resonates with you. I wish it sparks meaningful conversations. I also hope it encourages all of us to think critically about the direction we’re headed as a country.

    Left Behind by the Democrats

    A Personal Reflection on the Democratic Party’s Disconnect and the Fight for Our Rights

    By Levi Dokken | November 7, 2024

    I have been sitting here with a lot of feelings—sadness, anger, even rage. Part of me wanted to lash out at the people who voted for Donald Trump. To work through these emotions, I felt the need to sit down and write.

    Writing helps me release emotions. It allows me to express my thoughts. By expressing them, they don’t consume me.

    The Disconnect Between the Democratic Party and Rural America

    Donald Trump has won, and I believe it’s because the Democrats failed. They have failed the people they claim to represent. They are no longer the party of working men and women. Just look at the state of Minnesota. It went for Harris but is still a sea of red. There is only a small island of blue. The party only focuses on the areas where they need electoral votes to win the overall race.

    I grew up in a small town in Minnesota. I saw firsthand that most people in my community weren’t necessarily concerned with national politics.

    They focused more on day-to-day struggles. They were figuring out how to put food on the table. They were also finding money to cover the mortgage. They worried about what to do if their child needed braces and health insurance didn’t cover it.

    Candidates campaigned across the United States. They focused primarily on so-called battleground states and urban areas. They believed these areas would secure enough votes for them.

    Small towns across the nation increasingly feel disconnected from the Democratic Party. They believe the party has shifted its focus toward urban and coastal issues. This shift comes at the expense of rural communities.

    The Electoral System: A Barrier to Representation

    I often wonder if political candidates would pay more attention to smaller towns if votes were delegated differently. They might also focus on smaller states.

    Our current electoral system feels outdated. It resembles a relic of an age long since dead. In it, the voices of a few battleground states dictate the direction of the entire country.

    What if we had a more localized electoral college system within each state?

    For example, if each county were assigned an electoral vote, it might create a more balanced representation. The majority vote within a county would decide how that county’s electoral vote was cast. This system could offer an option to the current popular vote system that most states use to assign their delegates.

    Disappointment with Democratic Leadership

    Joe Biden announced he was running for a second term. I had a strong feeling he was going to lose.

    In 2020, he claimed he would be a transitional president. What happened to that promise? He was unwilling to even hold a primary. I was much more enthusiastic about the possibility of MN Rep. Dean Phillips entering the race. The Democrats, however, dismissed it, holding fast to the tradition that the incumbent automatically runs for re-election.

    Watching the first presidential debate, I was floored. Both candidates seemed unfit to hold the highest office in the land.

    Biden stumbled with his words and thoughts; at times, he seemed unable to keep his ideas in order. Trump wasn’t much better—he mostly rehashed grievances from 2020 without offering a clear plan for change.

    Project 2025: A Threat to Disability Rights

    Project 2025 adds to my concern. It is a plan from The Heritage Foundation. The next administration might choose to implement it.

    According to the Disability Rights Education & Defense Fund, this plan proposes changes with deep impacts on programs like Medicaid. It introduces funding caps, stricter eligibility requirements, and time limits.

    These changes could drastically reduce access to essential services for people with disabilities. Services like medical equipment, personal care attendants (PCAs), and specialist visits are crucial. They are necessary for maintaining health and independence.

    For me, Medicaid covers my specialist visits. It also covers my nearly $50,000 power wheelchair and repairs. Additionally, it covers the cost of my partner, Jason, as my PCA.

    How Do We Talk to Those Who Voted for Trump?

    How do I talk to my friends and family who voted for Donald Trump? How do I understand their choice to support someone who has assaulted women? He attempted to overturn a fair election. He also incited his supporters to storm the Capitol.

    Some of Trump’s supporters hold harmful views. However, I believe most are simply scared, misinformed, or longing for a past they believe he can bring back.

    I don’t want to cut these people out of my life, especially when many are lifelong friends or family. We can still be connected; we just may not talk about politics.

    What Can I Do Moving Forward?

    I’ve shared many things with you. The Democratic Party’s disconnect from rural America is concerning. Our electoral system has flaws. Policies like Project 2025 carry potential consequences. There’s a growing divide among friends and family. I can’t help but feel a mix of frustration and overwhelm.

    The future feels uncertain. These decisions could have long-lasting effects. They could also have life-changing effects for myself and those I care about. I find myself sitting here after writing this, asking myself, What can I do?

    As one voice out of millions, not much. But I can be part of something bigger. When others raise their voices against the incoming administration’s policies, I can stand with them. I can support the women in my life, the friends who feel vulnerable right now. I can do my part, however small, to work toward a future that protects everyone’s rights and dignity.

    Will you join me?

    Sources

  • Squishy Boy: A Love Letter to My Gentle Dog

    Squishy Boy: A Love Letter to My Gentle Dog

    The other day, I wrote a poem called Ghost in the Wiggles about Dempsey and his lingering spirit. As I reflected on Dempsey’s story, I realized Surley deserved his own tribute, too. Unlike Dempsey, Surley is my “squishy boy”—not because of his size, but because of his soft and tender spirit. He’s a dog who needs the world to be gentle, who thrives on a calm voice and a soft touch.

    Living with a soft dog like Surley has been both a lesson and a gift. He’s taught me to breathe before the storm, to find patience when frustration blooms. This poem, Squishy Boy, is a love letter to his delicate heart. It is also about the journey we’ve shared to understand each other.

    Squishy Boy

    You are my squishy boy.
    Not fat—just tender.
    Your blonde hair, soft as your heart.

    You are my squishy boy.
    I must handle you with care—
    a soft touch, a soft voice.
    Sometimes, that’s not easy.

    You are my squishy boy.
    In the beginning, frustration bloomed.
    The TV volume rose and fell—
    a ghost in the remote.

    I fought with it,
    tried to keep the world gentle,
    so the noise wouldn’t hurt you.

    I wasn’t mad at you—
    but you thought I was.

    You are my squishy boy.
    You sought safety,
    curled up with him, not me.
    It hurt. It still hurts.
    I was only trying to protect you.

    You are my squishy boy.
    I learned early on—
    sudden sounds could startle you,
    prickle your gentle spirit.

    I only wanted to protect you,
    but you misunderstood my frustration.

    You are my squishy boy.
    You have taught me to temper my rage,
    to breathe before the storm.

    You are my squishy boy.
    You must always carry something—
    from first light to bedtime.

    Your turtles, soft and worn,
    are never far from your mouth.
    They give you strength,
    a comfort you can hold.

    You bring them to bed when I let you,
    tucking them close as we curl up,
    safe and snug together.

    You are my squishy boy.
    You crave reassurance,
    always near me, on me.
    At first, it felt like too much, suffocating,
    but now, it feels sweet.

    I am your rock.
    I am your safe space.
    And you—
    you are my squishy boy.

  • A Ghost in the Wiggles: A Heartfelt Poem of Love and Loss

    I don’t often write poems, but some mornings, the words find me.

    This morning, I sat next to Surley. I was sipping my coffee and preparing to table at the Can Do Canines open house. A familiar ache settled in. I glanced up at the picture of Dempsey.

    There he was, sitting on the dock. His deep, soulful eyes stared into my very soul. I realized he remains a ghost. He will forever haunt me. He lingers in the quiet moments of my day.

    Surley and Dempsey share so much: their wiggle butts, their playful spirits, the way their eyes hold entire stories. And yet, they are so different—one chocolate, the other yellow, each with a unique heartbeat. I needed to put these feelings somewhere, to capture the love and the loss, the comfort and the haunting.

    So, I wrote this poem.

    A Ghost in the Wiggles

    You are chocolate; he is yellow—
    But you are both dogs
    With shockingly similar eyes,
    Though so different.

    Yours, a deep golden amber,
    His, a rich, soulful chocolate.
    When he looks at me,
    I see you in the shadows of his gaze.

    I love you.
    I love him.

    You craved morning belly rubs,
    A ritual of joy.
    He only offers his belly
    Because he knows it brings me closer to you—
    A bridge to the boy I lost too soon.

    I love you.
    I love him.

    I look at him, and I see you.
    I know he is not you—
    He is his own dog,
    But still, I see you.

    Your silly face, your wiggle butt.
    I see you when he zooms around the house
    After a long day’s work,
    When he rests his head on my lap,
    Looking up at me.

    I love you.
    I love him.
    He is here, and you are not.

    You are a ghost,
    Haunting the corners of my mind,
    An invisible chain,
    Forged by how you left so abruptly,
    Binding me to you,
    Never letting go.

    I love you.
    I love him.

    Will your ghost haunt me forever?
    Even with him here,
    The heartache lingers,
    Popping up in the most unexpected,
    Unusual ways.

    I love you.
    I love him.
    You are gone.
    He is here.

    You both have that same wiggle butt,
    But unlike you,
    He must always have something in his mouth—
    As if the comfort of a toy or a bone
    Keeps him steady,
    Helps him reach your confident stride.

    I love you.
    I love him.

    You were bold, hard-headed,
    Needed a firmer hand,
    Met the world with unflinching eyes.

    He is squishy, tender,
    A softer heartbeat in this home.
    Crumpling at the slightest hint of an upset dad,
    Looking up for reassurance,
    Needing to know he’s doing it right.

    I love you.
    I love him.

    When I first got upset with him,
    I thought I broke him.
    I thought we weren’t meant to be,
    Because he shut down,
    So unlike you—
    You, who always pushed back,
    Certain, strong, sure.

    He is not you.
    But in his own way,
    He is exactly who he needs to be.

    I love you.
    I love him.

    Through him and around him,
    Your spirit still dances—
    A ghost in the wiggle.

    Levi wearing a red plaid shirt and sunglasses embraces a large yellow Labrador Retriever.
    Levi wearing a gray Minnesota United FC hat and yellow shirt, hugging his chocolate Labrador service dog, Dempsey, outdoors with a green background.

  • When Budget Cuts Hit Home: How Social Security Reductions Are Impacting Us All

    Social Security Is More Than a Government Program

    Social Security isn’t just a government program; for many, it’s a lifeline.

    I’ve been receiving Social Security benefits in one form or another since I turned 18. Initially, I relied on Supplemental Security Income (SSI) while attending college from 2002 to 2008. It gave me a freedom many going through college don’t have. I was able to have a reliable source of income so I could focus higher education.

    When I entered the workforce in the winter of 2009, I found stable and reliable work. This job allowed me to completely eliminate my need for Social Security assistance.

    Later, after leaving my job at Best Buy in 2018, I transitioned to Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI) benefits. These services are vital—not just for me but for millions of Americans who depend on them for independence and stability.

    Why I’m Speaking Up Now

    I felt compelled to write this piece after watching The Rachel Maddow Show last night. Maddow discussed the potential fallout from the latest budget cuts to the Social Security Administration (SSA). These cuts, led by Elon Musk and the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) under President Trump, go beyond budget trimming. Entire programs are being eliminated, putting vulnerable populations at serious risk.

    According to a recent Washington Post article, the acting head of the SSA privately admitted to certain outcomes. He said these cuts would likely lead to more mistakes. They might also result in longer delays in processing claims. The possibility of an even more frayed safety net is alarming, and I couldn’t sit by quietly.

    The Human Impact of Bureaucratic Delays

    These cuts won’t just affect new applicants—they could impact those of us already receiving benefits. Whether it’s renewing benefits, updating personal information, or resolving administrative issues, interactions with the SSA are often necessary.

    When the system is underfunded and overwhelmed, routine tasks can become significant obstacles. Delays and mistakes in processing claims can lead to missed payments, prolonged appeals, and devastating financial consequences.

    Real Stories, Real Consequences

    It might be difficult to grasp the real-world impact of bureaucratic slowdowns. This is especially true for those who have never had to navigate this system.

    When I applied for SSDI in 2018, the process was far from smooth. Even with a fully staffed administration, the hurdles were significant. Now imagine facing these challenges with fewer resources, fewer programs, and more errors.

    These challenges are not just theoretical. They are a looming reality for millions of Americans. Many Americans rely on Social Security as a cornerstone of their financial stability.

    Connect the Dots: More on Disability Rights and Advocacy

    If you want to understand more about the broader challenges facing people with disabilities, check out some of my previous posts:

    These stories illustrate the ongoing struggle to maintain and expand the rights and services many of us rely on. The fight against these latest budget cuts is just one part of a larger battle.

    A Call for Accountability and Action

    We need transparency and a commitment from our leaders to prioritize the needs of vulnerable populations. Budget cuts might look good on a spreadsheet, but their impact on human lives can be catastrophic. We should invest in essential services. This ensures that everyone—regardless of their circumstances—has access to the support they need.

    Advocacy Starts with Awareness

    The first step in fighting these cuts is raising awareness. Share your stories, support advocacy groups, and reach out to your representatives. If we remain silent, these cuts could become just another line item in a budget. The true cost would be paid by those who can least afford it.

    Sources