This week, soon after his 100th birthday, former President Jimmy Carter was able to vote in his home state of Georgia—in part thanks to protections under the Voting Rights Act. As his grandson Jason Carter explained in a CNN interview with Jake Tapper, voting assistance protections in Georgia allow family members to help cast absentee ballots (the vote can still be discarded if a signature or mark on the ballot does not match what is on file, per Georgia law).
“He sat down and told everybody what he wanted to do, and was excited about it,” Jason Carter told Tapper. “My aunt dropped his ballot [at] an absentee drop box, just like thousands and thousands of other Georgians.”
Even if Carter doesn’t consider himself disabled, many aging people benefit from disability rights laws and protections. Section 208 of the Voting Rights Act guarantees that “any voter who requires assistance to vote by reason of blindness, disability, or inability to read or write may be given assistance by a person of the voter’s choice.”
In recent years, Republicans have attacked voters’ right to assistance, sometimes with carve-outs for close family members. But courts have repeatedly found such actions unconstitutional. In Texas, in 2022, a federal court ruled that people assisting voters can further explain ballot measures if asked; just last month in Alabama, a federal judge also ruled that the state was obligated to let voters get help from any person of their choice. While some people, like Carter, choose to, it’s not an option—or preference—for everyone.
Some aging people in Georgia still face barriers to voting, even if their right to assistance hasn’t been as harshly attacked. A recent lawsuit argues that a state law enacted this year, under which votes can be challenged if a voter is registered at a nonresidential address, could impact people living in nursing homes, assisted living communities, and similar facilities.
What is unclear, as my colleague Michael Mechanic recently wrote, is whether Georgia will count Carter’s ballot should he pass away before Election Day. What is clear, during the CNN interview, is how crucial Carter finds his right to vote, and the Voting Rights Act disability protections that enable him to do so.
“He has done that forever,” his grandson said, “and is excited to keep doing it.”
This week, soon after his 100th birthday, former President Jimmy Carter was able to vote in his home state of Georgia—in part thanks to protections under the Voting Rights Act. As his grandson Jason Carter explained in a CNN interview with Jake Tapper, voting assistance protections in Georgia allow family members to help cast absentee ballots (the vote can still be discarded if a signature or mark on the ballot does not match what is on file, per Georgia law).
“He sat down and told everybody what he wanted to do, and was excited about it,” Jason Carter told Tapper. “My aunt dropped his ballot [at] an absentee drop box, just like thousands and thousands of other Georgians.”
Even if Carter doesn’t consider himself disabled, many aging people benefit from disability rights laws and protections. Section 208 of the Voting Rights Act guarantees that “any voter who requires assistance to vote by reason of blindness, disability, or inability to read or write may be given assistance by a person of the voter’s choice.”
In recent years, Republicans have attacked voters’ right to assistance, sometimes with carve-outs for close family members. But courts have repeatedly found such actions unconstitutional. In Texas, in 2022, a federal court ruled that people assisting voters can further explain ballot measures if asked; just last month in Alabama, a federal judge also ruled that the state was obligated to let voters get help from any person of their choice. While some people, like Carter, choose to, it’s not an option—or preference—for everyone.
Some aging people in Georgia still face barriers to voting, even if their right to assistance hasn’t been as harshly attacked. A recent lawsuit argues that a state law enacted this year, under which votes can be challenged if a voter is registered at a nonresidential address, could impact people living in nursing homes, assisted living communities, and similar facilities.
What is unclear, as my colleague Michael Mechanic recently wrote, is whether Georgia will count Carter’s ballot should he pass away before Election Day. What is clear, during the CNN interview, is how crucial Carter finds his right to vote, and the Voting Rights Act disability protections that enable him to do so.
“He has done that forever,” his grandson said, “and is excited to keep doing it.”
California’s statewide rent control law, the Costa-Hawkins Act, has been contentious since it was signed into law in 1995. California politicians saw Costa-Hawkins, which made it illegal for localities to impose rent control on homes, condominiums, and new apartment housing, as a way to appease the interests of landlords.
Nearly 30 years later, Costa-Hawkins increasingly limits disabled and aging people’s ability to get accessible, affordable housing—practically impossible on a fixed income. The law was enacted less than four years after the Fair Housing Act’s accessibility requirements left some Californians stuck between old homes they couldn’t use and new ones they couldn’t afford.
Compounding the problem, the Americans With Disabilities Act, which requires shared common spaces to be accessible, was also signed into law just five years before Costa-Hawkins, in 1990. And Costa-Hawkins also froze previous local rent control laws—in San Francisco, only buildings built on or before June 13, 1979, are subject to rent control.
Ending Costa-Hawkins stands to increase the number of accessible apartment buildings.
“We have one member that spent two years coming out of a shelter trying to find a mobility-accessible unit that was affordable,” said Ocean Coast, a housing community organizer with San Francisco–based advocacy group Senior and Disability Action.
Ending Costa-Hawkins stands to increase the number of accessible apartment buildings—and Proposition 33, on California’s November ballot, would do just that. (San Francisco Supervisor Aaron Peskin, a mayoral candidate, has already introduced a bill to expand rent control if Proposition 33 passes.)
The proposition’smain backer is the AIDS Healthcare Foundation (AHF), which provides treatment and preventative services, including housing—though it has been criticized for, among other things, conditions in the residential units it owns.
Zeenat Hassan, a senior attorney with Disability Rights California, which supports ending the state’s rent control ban, said newer buildings come with irreplaceable benefits.
“For buildings, as much as for anything else, it’s usually easier to build accessibility into the front end that to try and retrofit things later on,” Hassan said.
But Prop 33 has earned the AHF a powerful enemy: California’s landlord lobby. Proposition 34, also on November’s ballot, would restrict AHF’s ability to fund ballot initiatives that are not explicitly related to health care—commercials for that bill position it as an innocuous pro-patient ballot initiative that might, on paper, sound appealing for disabled people with complex health conditions.
Konstantine Anthony sits on the city council of Burbank, in Los Angeles County. Anthony is also Burbank’s ex-mayor—the country’s first openly autistic mayor—and recently headed the state Democratic Party’s disability caucus. California’s landlord lobby was “fed up with fighting the AIDS Healthcare Foundation, and so they put a bill on the November ballot,” Anthony said. “It’s a revenge bill.”
It may “sound weird,” Anthony acknowledges, that the AIDS Healthcare Foundation is leading the fight to un-ban rent control. That’s part of a holistic approach, he says: people need to be housed to get effective medical treatment. A Los Angeles County report found that, in 2022, 13 percent of people recently diagnosed with HIV were experiencing homelessness.
And believes that expanding rent control, including into single-family homes, intertwines with disability rights.
“A lot of folks who have mobility issues, balance and illness issues, need a larger space,” Anthony said. That’s partly space for “wheelchairs or bedding or medical equipment, something that doesn’t typically fit into smaller apartments,” and potentially for live-in caregivers.
While Proposition 34 does not mention AHF by name, its effective targeting of the group has been widely reported—andit would be the soleorganization affected by the measure. The San Francisco Chronicle editorial board, which came out against Prop 33, called Prop 34 “cheap political gamesmanship.” The Los Angeles Times editorial board also opposed Prop 34, saying it has a “hidden agenda.” A request for comment to the California Apartment Association, which lobbies on behalf of the state’s landlords, was replied to directly by the Yes on 34 campaign.
Major developers and corporate landlords have funneled millions of dollars to make sure rent control isn’t expanded.
“Prop 34 simply ensures that taxpayer dollars meant to provide medical care for low-income patients actually are spent for that purpose,” said Yes on 34 spokesperson Nathan Click, a former top communications official for California Gov. Gavin Newsom. “It’s why it’s supported by more than a dozen patient rights organizations.” One such organization is the ALS Foundation—which, unlike the California Apartment Association, is not spending millions to stop a bill that could expand rent control.
The state’s major developers and corporate landlords, like Blackstone CEO Stephen Schwarzman, have funneled millions of dollars to the California Apartment Association to make sure rent control isn’t expanded. As of September 25, the Association’s Issues Committee had spent nearly $35 million to oppose Proposition 33, and almost another $30 million backing Proposition 34, according to records from the California Secretary of State. Two firms funding the campaigns, Essex Property Trust and Equity Residential, did not respond to requests for comment.
Jerry Flanagan, litigation director with the consumer rights group Consumer Watchdog, said that “this kind of initiative sets a horrible precedent for the idea that if you don’t like what a nonprofit organization is doing in terms of advocacy, just sponsor a ballot initiative to take that up—to kill it—and just dress it up as something else.”
Even if Prop 33 does not pass, and California’s rent control ban stays in force, Anthony, the Burbank city councilor, said the state could build on a model like the state’s Tenant Protection Act of 2019, which caps rent increases once an apartment building is 15 years old, unlike Costa-Hawkins’ fixed date.
Hassan, of Disability Rights California, also noted that the lack of affordable, accessible housing could force disabled people into institutions like nursing homes.
“When we allow the private market to continue the financialization of housing,” she said, “you increase the risk of perpetuating that segregation for people with disabilities.”
Three years ago, after developing Long Covid, 62-year-old Martha applied for Social Security Disability Insurance,which provides a modest monthly benefit to aging and disabled adults. Martha has no health insurance, which prevents her from getting the medical treatment she needs, and is homeless.
On Thursday, when she asked Vice President Kamala Harris about the issue at a town hall hosted by the Spanish-language news network Univision, she still hadn’t received a decision.
In the twelve-month stretch from October 2022 through September 2023, 30,000 people died while waiting for federal disability determinations, according to Social Security Commissioner Martin O’Malley. Martha asked Harris what she would do as president for people, like herself, who are waiting for disability decisions while in desperate need of health insurance.
Delays in those decisions, driven in part by understaffing and a Covid-related rise in disability rates, have driven the typical wait time from four months in 2019 to seven months today, often coupled with the need to appeal an initial rejection, which can take years. The processing times represent a mounting crisis for the more than 1 million Americans who apply for disability in a given year.
Harris, starting off on track, highlighted her recent push for Long Covid to be recognized under the Americans with Disabilities Act. But the vice president didn’t acknowledge the issue of wait times for federal disability benefit determinations, talking instead about how medical debt impacted credit scores.
Harris’ push to incorporate Long Covid into the ADA is welcome. Latino people are the likeliest of any racial group to report having Long Covid, according to Census data; many also participate in SSDI, and her Univision non-answer on wait times was eyebrow-raising.
But a Long Covid–friendly ADA doesn’t mean any change in Social Security practices, which are separate. Securing disability income is a much more complex, demanding process than securing ADA accommodations (which can be hard enough). Separate action is needed on both—and within Harris’ grasp, should she land in the White House.
this is a very emotional town hall. Harris takes a question from a homeless woman whose life was wrecked by long covid about what she'll do for people like her pic.twitter.com/O65A3GJIX3
That’s not to say that Democrats have made no moves to address challenges around Long Covid and Social Security disability delays. In August, a Senate group including Sen. Tim Kaine (D-Vir.), Sen. Ed Markey (D-Mass.), Sen Tammy Duckworth (D-Ill.), and Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Ver.) sent O’Malley a letter asking a similar question: what was the Social Security Administration doing to address the barriers that applicants with Long Covid face? They have yet to receive a response—at least publicly.
Three years ago, after developing Long Covid, 62-year-old Martha applied for Social Security Disability Insurance,which provides a modest monthly benefit to aging and disabled adults. Martha has no health insurance, which prevents her from getting the medical treatment she needs, and is homeless.
On Thursday, when she asked Vice President Kamala Harris about the issue at a town hall hosted by the Spanish-language news network Univision, she still hadn’t received a decision.
In the twelve-month stretch from October 2022 through September 2023, 30,000 people died while waiting for federal disability determinations, according to Social Security Commissioner Martin O’Malley. Martha asked Harris what she would do as president for people, like herself, who are waiting for disability decisions while in desperate need of health insurance.
Delays in those decisions, driven in part by understaffing and a Covid-related rise in disability rates, have driven the typical wait time from four months in 2019 to seven months today, often coupled with the need to appeal an initial rejection, which can take years. The processing times represent a mounting crisis for the more than 1 million Americans who apply for disability in a given year.
Harris, starting off on track, highlighted her recent push for Long Covid to be recognized under the Americans with Disabilities Act. But the vice president didn’t acknowledge the issue of wait times for federal disability benefit determinations, talking instead about how medical debt impacted credit scores.
Harris’ push to incorporate Long Covid into the ADA is welcome. Latino people are the likeliest of any racial group to report having Long Covid, according to Census data; many also participate in SSDI, and her Univision non-answer on wait times was eyebrow-raising.
But a Long Covid–friendly ADA doesn’t mean any change in Social Security practices, which are separate. Securing disability income is a much more complex, demanding process than securing ADA accommodations (which can be hard enough). Separate action is needed on both—and within Harris’ grasp, should she land in the White House.
this is a very emotional town hall. Harris takes a question from a homeless woman whose life was wrecked by long covid about what she'll do for people like her pic.twitter.com/O65A3GJIX3
That’s not to say that Democrats have made no moves to address challenges around Long Covid and Social Security disability delays. In August, a Senate group including Sen. Tim Kaine (D-Vir.), Sen. Ed Markey (D-Mass.), Sen Tammy Duckworth (D-Ill.), and Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Ver.) sent O’Malley a letter asking a similar question: what was the Social Security Administration doing to address the barriers that applicants with Long Covid face? They have yet to receive a response—at least publicly.
For some chronically ill and disabled people, the revolution will start from their rooms—or even from bed.
Since the fall of Roe v. Wade, the fight to protect abortion access has become even more urgent, with 13 states having banned procedural abortion outright. Maternal deaths rose by 56 percent in Texas after an abortion ban was enacted, and an August report by House Democrats on the Energy and Commerce Committee found that, since theDobbs decision, more pregnant people have delayed seeking care for complications. And more people are being forced to carry pregnancies to term who don’t want to—which isn’t exactly harmless to a person’s body. Every year, at least 40 million people worldwide (out of around 140 million who give birth annually) develop a long-term health problem linked to childbirth.
Yetthe end of Roe has had a unique impact on disabled people. Research has shown that disabled people die from pregnancy and birth complications at rates 11 times higher than non-disabled people. Women with disabilities, especially those with intellectual and developmental disabilities, are more likely to be sexually assaulted than non-disabled women, leading to more unwanted pregnancies.
“You don’t have to be a full-time activist in front of a camera at a rally in order to make a huge difference for someone.”
But the spate of bans has also led to new waves of abortion rights activism, including by disabled people. For those who experience chronic illnesses or a range of other disabilities, in-person activism isn’t always an option, especially with an ongoing pandemic—but there’s a powerful precedent for reproductive rights activism by disabled people.
Laurie Bertram Roberts, the executive director of the Mississippi Reproductive Freedom Fund, cares deeply about accessibility in part because they are disabled; from bed, they write grants and follow up with people who need assistance in abortion care to make sure their needs are met.
Former Mother Jones reporter Becca Andrews profiled Roberts and their fund’s work in 2019, when they faced down seemingly endless challenges even before the fall of Roe: “I don’t think [outsiders] understand that the structural barriers are at every turn of care,” Roberts said at the time. Now, as then, Roberts “spends much of her time bedbound due to painful fibromyalgia, but her phone and laptop are never far, basically operating as digital appendages.”
Roberts also hires workers who have their own experiences with chronic illnesses and disabilities—and encourages them to work in a way that is best for them, like taking flexible hours.
“A lot of us can get a whole lot done if people would just give us the opportunity to do it,” Roberts said.
The upside of taking reproductive rights activism online is that many people seeking abortions already turn to the internet for help. New York–based Ariella Messing, who lives with chronic migraines, saw how valuable that could be when she co-founded Online Abortion Resource Squad, which offers peer-based support. Messing and volunteers now run Reddit’s r/Abortion,where they answer questions for people seeking abortions around the world.
While running OARS is her full-time job as its executive director—and then some, with migraines interrupting some shifts—Messing has made volunteering for OARS accessible in multiple ways.
Helping someone learn how to safely get an abortion in their area can take just five minutes; as with OARS, it can be as simple as writing a comment on Reddit. “You don’t have to be a full-time activist in front of a camera at a rally in order to make a huge difference for someone,” Messing said.
But even among organizations that do put on events like rallies, there is still space for remote involvement, which Olivia Neal, a chronically ill communications staffer, does to help people have the information they need to get an abortion as part of her job at the ACLU of North Carolina.
Sustainable, accessible activism“takes a little extra people power.”
And the same challenges non-disabled activists face show up in force—like exhaustion and financial insecurity. Many people involved in the fight for reproductive rights don’t make a lot of money: Messing can’t afford good health insurance, and needs expensive medications. Lack of employer benefits, Messing said, was “the one thing holding me back at first from doing this full time—and that still is causing me trouble every single day.”
Avoiding overwork can be very hard when people need support, as Messing, who is usually logged into r/Abortion seven days a week, alsoknows. “It’s also really tiring to never be on autopilot,” she said. And despite accommodations to work remotely, Neal said, “I do feel that sense of guilt about not being able to always show up in physical spaces.”
Neal sees her main contribution as making information available and easily understandable: she created an abortion guide for those seeking one in North Carolina, including guidance on transportation and financial assistance. “We all bring different skills to the movement,” she said.
Ableism can mean even seasoned advocates aren’t not taken seriously; Roberts was previously pushed to step aside due to her disabilities. “Aside from the obvious ableism, I think that they missed the point that we are an important bloc of supporters.”
While the fight for abortion access is an important part of the battle for reproductive rights, it’s far from the only one. Even before the fall of Roe v. Wade, disabled people struggled to get accessible gynecological care: A 2018 study suggests that many gynecologists lack the training to give disabled people the equal treatment they need.
Mary Fashik, who has advocated for reproductive rights online as part of #UpgradeAccessibility, a movement she founded, experienced that firsthand. Fashik had an ovarian cyst burst, and when she finally had an appointment some days later, Fashik said she “could not get on the exam table because the exam table was not accessible.” Then and in general, Fashik felt that her white doctor was not taking her concerns seriously due to her race and disability. (Soon, fewer disabled people will experience this kind of inaccessible care: In August, the Justice Department finalized a rule mandating that medical diagnostic equipment, including examination tables, be accessible for people with disabilities.)
Fashik’s troubles helped lead her to organize online panels and events after Roe was overturned—“Online advocacy is real advocacy,” Fashik said—where she talked about birth control access and the forced sterilization of disabled people.
Sustainable, accessible activism“takes a little extra people power and or money,” Roberts notes. But it’s absolutely necessary for work like theirs, and the benefits outweighs the costs. “When we talk about access to care,” Roberts says, “we definitely have to talk about access to care for the disabled community.”
On Tuesday, Vice President Kamala Harris announced on The View that she would pursue a new Medicare benefit to cover the costs of in-home care for qualifying disabled people and anyone 65 and up.
Disabled people have fought for more than half a century for the right to remain in their homes and communities, rather than being subject to institutionalization—which includes the support, such as home care workers, that they need to do so. A recent poll released by the University of Michigan found that around three in five people older than 50 with a caregiver also have a physical disability. Medicare already covers home care for some people—but in a highly limited way that’s much more challenging to get.
“If you don’t have those services, you might unnecessarily be institutionalized.”
I spoke with Nicole Jorwic, Caring Across Generations’ chief of advocacy and campaigns, about Harris’ new proposal—what it means the people who would qualify, and what it would take for the benefit to succeed, if Harris is elected.
Why does Harris’ plan to expand Medicare excite you?
The plan from the Harris administration to include coverage for home care and Medicare is really a game-changer for disabled people and for older people. This proposal is exciting, not only for the folks that would get the care that they need but also because of the people that would be impacted by not having to provide that care themselves.
The most exciting thing about it for me is that something that I hear when I’m out and about, meeting with folks in the in the care advocacy community—is so many people think Medicare already does this. It’s creating a a benefit in a government funded system that people already think that they’re going to get—fixing a problem that many people don’t even know that they’re going to have until they’re in a crisis.
How could it help disabled people remain at home, rather than in institutions like nursing homes or group homes?
95 percent of disabled people want to live in their homes and in their communities. But the reality is, because Medicaid has traditionally been the main funder for these services, you have to remain in poverty in order to access these services. Also because states can limit how many people they serve, there’s waiting lists.
Adding home care into Medicare would mean that more of the 7 million disabled people who are currently eligible for Medicare— 12 percent of Medicare beneficiaries—then maybe [do] not need to go on waiting lists for services. If you don’t have those services, you might unnecessarily be institutionalized. This proposal to add home care to Medicare would also take some pressure off of the Medicaid system. We could hopefully continue to pull people off of the waiting list and remove the institutional bias that currently exists today.
Why is it also crucial to address the care-worker shortage for a plan like this to be successful?
Anybody who needs home care, those services are going to be provided by a direct care worker, and we are in a direct care worker crisis. Not because there’s not enough people, but because there’s not enough good direct care jobs. What this proposal does also include is ensuring that the folks that are providing these Medicare services are being paid a good wage.
Disability advocates and aging advocates, when we have the opportunity to implement a policy like this [which] would have to move through Congress, we would also ensure that it rides alongside investments that would ensure that every direct care worker, whether they’re paid by Medicaid or Medicare, are paid a family sustaining wage. We have to also address the direct care workforce, that’s the human infrastructure, the people that are actually providing the services, for this program to be successful.
Right now we think about those direct support professionals or home care workers, those folks when they age, don’t have access to home care right away, unless they qualify for Medicaid, which we know can have waiting lists. Vice President Harris’s proposal to add home care to Medicare also would guarantee that those direct care workers who have been historically low-paid would also have peace of mind if they need home care.
Have there been examples of programs at a state level similar to what Harris is proposing?
There isn’t necessarily an example of a state adding to a federal program, but there are some examples of where states have invested in folks that just need a little bit of extra support at home. Under the Affordable Care Act, there was a program that was passed called the Community First Choice Option. It requires states who take up this option, like Oregon and Texas, to provide home and community based care for eligible folks, mostly through personal care assistance, in the same way that that Vice President Harris’s proposal does.
For folks that are on a waiting list, it provides a narrow benefit. We know that if we provide some benefit to people right when they need it, it actually can prevent them, maybe, from needing longer-term care further down the road.
Are there any lessons to learn from the state-level implementation of the Community First Choice Option?
When you look at implementing programs like the Community First Choice Option at the state level, something that’s important to think about is that you want to create as much flexibility as possible. You want to make sure that the services that are being provided are going to meet the unique needs of the senior or the disabled person who needs that care—also making sure that the definition of a workforce is broad enough. There might be somebody who might want it to be their family member, or a disabled person who might want it to be their spouse. You can’t just throw more people into the system without also addressing the workforce.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
On Tuesday, Vice President Kamala Harris announced on The View that she would pursue a new Medicare benefit to cover the costs of in-home care for qualifying disabled people and anyone 65 and up.
Disabled people have fought for more than half a century for the right to remain in their homes and communities, rather than being subject to institutionalization—which includes the support, such as home care workers, that they need to do so. A recent poll released by the University of Michigan found that around three in five people older than 50 with a caregiver also have a physical disability. Medicare already covers home care for some people—but in a highly limited way that’s much more challenging to get.
“If you don’t have those services, you might unnecessarily be institutionalized.”
I spoke with Nicole Jorwic, Caring Across Generations’ chief of advocacy and campaigns, about Harris’ new proposal—what it means the people who would qualify, and what it would take for the benefit to succeed, if Harris is elected.
Why does Harris’ plan to expand Medicare excite you?
The plan from the Harris administration to include coverage for home care and Medicare is really a game-changer for disabled people and for older people. This proposal is exciting, not only for the folks that would get the care that they need but also because of the people that would be impacted by not having to provide that care themselves.
The most exciting thing about it for me is that something that I hear when I’m out and about, meeting with folks in the in the care advocacy community—is so many people think Medicare already does this. It’s creating a a benefit in a government funded system that people already think that they’re going to get—fixing a problem that many people don’t even know that they’re going to have until they’re in a crisis.
How could it help disabled people remain at home, rather than in institutions like nursing homes or group homes?
95 percent of disabled people want to live in their homes and in their communities. But the reality is, because Medicaid has traditionally been the main funder for these services, you have to remain in poverty in order to access these services. Also because states can limit how many people they serve, there’s waiting lists.
Adding home care into Medicare would mean that more of the 7 million disabled people who are currently eligible for Medicare— 12 percent of Medicare beneficiaries—then maybe [do] not need to go on waiting lists for services. If you don’t have those services, you might unnecessarily be institutionalized. This proposal to add home care to Medicare would also take some pressure off of the Medicaid system. We could hopefully continue to pull people off of the waiting list and remove the institutional bias that currently exists today.
Why is it also crucial to address the care-worker shortage for a plan like this to be successful?
Anybody who needs home care, those services are going to be provided by a direct care worker, and we are in a direct care worker crisis. Not because there’s not enough people, but because there’s not enough good direct care jobs. What this proposal does also include is ensuring that the folks that are providing these Medicare services are being paid a good wage.
Disability advocates and aging advocates, when we have the opportunity to implement a policy like this [which] would have to move through Congress, we would also ensure that it rides alongside investments that would ensure that every direct care worker, whether they’re paid by Medicaid or Medicare, are paid a family sustaining wage. We have to also address the direct care workforce, that’s the human infrastructure, the people that are actually providing the services, for this program to be successful.
Right now we think about those direct support professionals or home care workers, those folks when they age, don’t have access to home care right away, unless they qualify for Medicaid, which we know can have waiting lists. Vice President Harris’s proposal to add home care to Medicare also would guarantee that those direct care workers who have been historically low-paid would also have peace of mind if they need home care.
Have there been examples of programs at a state level similar to what Harris is proposing?
There isn’t necessarily an example of a state adding to a federal program, but there are some examples of where states have invested in folks that just need a little bit of extra support at home. Under the Affordable Care Act, there was a program that was passed called the Community First Choice Option. It requires states who take up this option, like Oregon and Texas, to provide home and community based care for eligible folks, mostly through personal care assistance, in the same way that that Vice President Harris’s proposal does.
For folks that are on a waiting list, it provides a narrow benefit. We know that if we provide some benefit to people right when they need it, it actually can prevent them, maybe, from needing longer-term care further down the road.
Are there any lessons to learn from the state-level implementation of the Community First Choice Option?
When you look at implementing programs like the Community First Choice Option at the state level, something that’s important to think about is that you want to create as much flexibility as possible. You want to make sure that the services that are being provided are going to meet the unique needs of the senior or the disabled person who needs that care—also making sure that the definition of a workforce is broad enough. There might be somebody who might want it to be their family member, or a disabled person who might want it to be their spouse. You can’t just throw more people into the system without also addressing the workforce.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Thinking before you speak publicly is an important skill. Idaho State Sen. Dan Foreman, a conservative Republican, apparently did not get the memo.
As Boise State Public Radio, an NPR affiliate, reported on Thursday, a “meet the candidates” forum was held on Tuesday evening in Kendrick, a town with a population of about 300. Foreman attended, as did others running for District 6 state House and Senate seats. (Idaho has 35 legislative districts, each with one senator and two representatives.)
After Trish Carter-Goodheart, a Democrat running for a House seat, pointed out that discrimination and racism exist in Idaho, Foreman reportedly lost his temper and told her to “go back where you came from.”
Among the various problems with that statement, Carter-Goodheart happens to be a member of the Nez Perce tribe, which has a reservation smack in the middle of District 6. She was where she came from. Foreman, as the radio piece noted, was born in Illinois. (Foreman did not respond to Boise State Public Radio for comment.)
Foreman is not the only Western politician to make offensive remarks about Native Americans recently—Republican US Senate candidate Tim Sheehy admitted to doing the same, and his Democratic rival, incumbent Jon Tester, has made it a campaign issue.
Tester: The statement you made degrades Native Americans. You're a big guy, apologize.
Sheehy: Do you apologize for opening the border?
Tester: I didn't open the border. When we had a opportunity to fix the border, you said we want to play politics with this pic.twitter.com/FRbM23aD3R
Republican Rep. Lori McCann—who is running against Carter-Goodheart—told the radio station that she agrees with her opponent’s assessment of what happened, which Carter-Goodheart summarized in a statement released on Wednesday:
Last night, I entered what should have been a respectful and constructive public candidate forum. Instead, I was met with hateful, racist remarks from State Senator Dan Foreman, who screamed at me to “go back where you came from.”
The question on the floor was about a state bill addressing discrimination. One of the candidates responded, claiming that “discrimination doesn’t exist in Idaho.” When it was my turn to speak, I calmly pointed out that just because someone hasn’t personally experienced discrimination doesn’t mean it’s not happening. Racism and discrimination are real issues here in Idaho, as anyone familiar with our state’s history knows. I highlighted our weak hate crime laws and mentioned the presence of the Aryan Nations in northern Idaho as undeniable evidence of this reality.
That’s when Sen. Foreman lost all control. His words to me: “I’m so sick and tired of this liberal b*llsh*t! Why don’t you go back to where you came from?!”
I stayed. I stayed because I wanted to show our community that I can, and will, handle difficult, unpleasant situations. After the forum, several members of the crowd came up to me and offered their support, apologizing for Sen. Foreman’s behavior. But it’s not the people in the crowd who need to apologize.
I need to thank the women who stood with me against this hate: Representative Lori McCann, Kathy Dawes, and Moscow City Councilwoman Julia Parker. You had my back when it mattered, and I appreciate your strength and solidarity.
What happened last night was a reminder of why this election matters. I am a proud member of the Nez Perce tribe, fighting to represent the land my family has lived on for generations. People like Dan Foreman do not represent our diverse community, and I will continue to stand against the hatred and racism they spread. Our state deserves better. Our community deserves better. We deserve better.
Thinking before you speak publicly is an important skill. Idaho State Sen. Dan Foreman, a conservative Republican, apparently did not get the memo.
As Boise State Public Radio, an NPR affiliate, reported on Thursday, a “meet the candidates” forum was held on Tuesday evening in Kendrick, a town with a population of about 300. Foreman attended, as did others running for District 6 state House and Senate seats. (Idaho has 35 legislative districts, each with one senator and two representatives.)
After Trish Carter-Goodheart, a Democrat running for a House seat, pointed out that discrimination and racism exist in Idaho, Foreman reportedly lost his temper and told her to “go back where you came from.”
Among the various problems with that statement, Carter-Goodheart happens to be a member of the Nez Perce tribe, which has a reservation smack in the middle of District 6. She was where she came from. Foreman, as the radio piece noted, was born in Illinois. (Foreman did not respond to Boise State Public Radio for comment.)
Foreman is not the only Western politician to make offensive remarks about Native Americans recently—Republican US Senate candidate Tim Sheehy admitted to doing the same, and his Democratic rival, incumbent Jon Tester, has made it a campaign issue.
Tester: The statement you made degrades Native Americans. You're a big guy, apologize.
Sheehy: Do you apologize for opening the border?
Tester: I didn't open the border. When we had a opportunity to fix the border, you said we want to play politics with this pic.twitter.com/FRbM23aD3R
Republican Rep. Lori McCann—who is running against Carter-Goodheart—told the radio station that she agrees with her opponent’s assessment of what happened, which Carter-Goodheart summarized in a statement released on Wednesday:
Last night, I entered what should have been a respectful and constructive public candidate forum. Instead, I was met with hateful, racist remarks from State Senator Dan Foreman, who screamed at me to “go back where you came from.”
The question on the floor was about a state bill addressing discrimination. One of the candidates responded, claiming that “discrimination doesn’t exist in Idaho.” When it was my turn to speak, I calmly pointed out that just because someone hasn’t personally experienced discrimination doesn’t mean it’s not happening. Racism and discrimination are real issues here in Idaho, as anyone familiar with our state’s history knows. I highlighted our weak hate crime laws and mentioned the presence of the Aryan Nations in northern Idaho as undeniable evidence of this reality.
That’s when Sen. Foreman lost all control. His words to me: “I’m so sick and tired of this liberal b*llsh*t! Why don’t you go back to where you came from?!”
I stayed. I stayed because I wanted to show our community that I can, and will, handle difficult, unpleasant situations. After the forum, several members of the crowd came up to me and offered their support, apologizing for Sen. Foreman’s behavior. But it’s not the people in the crowd who need to apologize.
I need to thank the women who stood with me against this hate: Representative Lori McCann, Kathy Dawes, and Moscow City Councilwoman Julia Parker. You had my back when it mattered, and I appreciate your strength and solidarity.
What happened last night was a reminder of why this election matters. I am a proud member of the Nez Perce tribe, fighting to represent the land my family has lived on for generations. People like Dan Foreman do not represent our diverse community, and I will continue to stand against the hatred and racism they spread. Our state deserves better. Our community deserves better. We deserve better.
Daniel Inouye wanted to serve the United States from a young age. Growing up in Hawaii, he was rattled by the attack on Pearl Harbor; in 1944, at the age of 19, Inouye deployed to Italy, then France, to fight the Nazis. War changes most soldiers’ lives, but Inouye, fighting in an all–Japanese American combat unit, also had to get his right arm amputated: A Nazi soldier struck him with a grenade launcher, partly destroying the arm and forcing him to pry the undetonated grenade out with his left hand. He threw it back at the Nazi—this time, it detonated.
After being rehabilitated, Inouye continued to serve the United States, first as one of Hawaii’s earliest delegates to the House of Representatives, then, in 1963, in the Senate, where he remained for nearly 50 years. Inouye supported civil rights, but he was not at the forefront of the disability rights movement; in fact, Inouye did not see himself as a disabled person, likely due to stigma at the time. By 2010, Inouye was president pro tempore of the Senate, making him the highest-ranking person of color with a disability in the presidential line of succession, ever.
“When he started in politics, to have a disability would have been a weakness.”
Inouye’s story is the subject of a new documentary, out October 8, in PBS’ Renegades series of five short films telling the stories of underrecognized disabled figures in US history, like Inouye and Black Panther Party member Brad Lomax.
Mother Jones spoke with Renegades series creator Day Al-Mohamed, who has worked on disability policy in the Biden-Harris administration, and Tammy Botkin, who directed the short on the late senator, on Inouye’s relationship to his disability and more.
As someone who worked in politics, Day, why was it important for you that a politician with a disability was featured?
Al-Mohamed: If you think about it, very much that shapes the the way the country operates, right? It actually, in some way, shapes the very look and feel of a country—that is, the politics and the policies and the laws. It would be remiss to not include a politician, and we specifically wanted Sen. Inouye to be a part of this because of his perspective on disability.
In your work in disability policy, even decades later, do you see similarities in how many veterans may not view themselves as part of the disability community—like Daniel Inouye didn’t?
Al-Mohamed: I still remember, as one veteran explained it to me, “I don’t have a disability. I’m just busted out.” It’s very much a way of thinking about that. Veterans are a community in and of themselves and [had] a job, in many ways, that is based on your your body, abilities and capacity.
We all have different perceptions of what it means to be disabled, and we can even see that within the non-veteran community as well. There’s this general mainstream perception that disability is a wheelchair user, or it’s somebody who is blinded. I think that that has done a disservice to many folks who don’t see the opportunity to take advantage of the policies and politics that protect them, which is also, in some ways, at the heart of the episode.
It does seem there’s a generational shift, where younger people are embracing that identity more than in the days when more people were being institutionalized.
Botkin: It’s definitely related to generational views of disability. It is also related to the Senator’s identity as a war veteran, who has seen many other friends who died and were maimed far worse than he. It also has to do with his identity as a Japanese American. Then, his need as a politician to show himself as strong—and when he started in politics, to have a disability would have been a weakness.
Why was it important to explore multiple aspects of Inouye’s identity—including how anti-Japanese sentiment made it difficult for Inouye to enlist, and led to his being called a communist?
Botkin: First off, the senator being smushed into 12 minutes feels like an aberration. How do you do that? He [had] such a massive, massive life, and he himself was such a prolific storyteller and framer of his experience and our collective experience.
There were so many facets to him that to really even begin to understand him as an individual, to leave any of those out is to not be able to really grasp who he is—that he belonged to many communities. He’s Japanese American, yes, but also Hawaiian. Yes, he’s military. He’s a politician. He’s a man from a certain generation of Americanism. He would fight for people with disabilities, but for him to take the lead on it would be self-serving. He wouldn’t do that, and that leans a lot into his Japanese American heritage. We worked with Japanese American consultants to nail this in.
When you’re telling somebody’s story, it’s terrifying because I personally feel like I have to get it right. Luckily, in this case, the Senator’s best friend, who’s in the film, Jeff Watanabe, was incredibly pleased with the representation, so I can breathe.
Al-Mohamed: If you watch the film, you can see [Tammy’s] pulling strands of different labels. As you even highlighted, the discussion around communism, discussion about being Japanese American, discussion about disability, discussion about veteran, those are all labels. At the heart, it’s about the ones you choose to embrace, the ones you don’t, the ones society puts on you, and the ones that you choose for yourself.
What does Inouye’s story reveal about about how people’s lived experiences can help them push for justice?
Botkin: As a person who was never diagnosed as a child with neurodivergence, it started dawning on me in my 30s. I’m like, “Huh, you might have this thing.” I’m terrified of the label, to be honest. That’s the kind of the stance that I feel like that the senator was taking, which was, I’m not going to claim it for me, but I’m going to fight for everybody else.
What is that inability within ourselves to accept it? I don’t know. That’s something that I actually felt like I had in common with the senator, and I think maybe it’s just the old programming that we haven’t been able to take care of.
Al-Mohamed: In many ways, your own lived experiences are what are going to shape your own policies, your views and your actions. It was very clear from the senator’s early life and the things that happened to him, there was very much a clear recognition of some of the inequities that existed. He was somebody who basically committed five decades of his life to addressing those inequities across a variety of arenas.
From a political standpoint, he didn’t have a box, [like] it’s just going to be veteran stuff. He actually ended up taking that way of looking at what is fair and what is right and putting it into a variety of arenas. Some stronger than others, but the fact is that they were there. I think that’s where you see Inouye using that personal experience and using it to push for positive change.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Former President Donald Trump has disdain for disabled people. As Fred Trump III, his nephew, revealed this year, the former President said in 2020 that people with complex disabilities “should just die.” Even before that, Trump hatefully mocked a disabled reporter at a rally in 2015, and called the Paralympics “tough to watch” in 2018.
Now, Trump has referred to his opponent in the 2024 presidential race, Vice President Kamala Harris, as “mentally disabled” at a Saturday rally—where he also called President Joe Biden “mentally impaired.”
Trump: Joe Biden became mentally impaired. Kamala was born that way. She was born that way. And if you think about it, only a mentally disabled person could have allowed this to happen to our country. pic.twitter.com/v6Yo6uINp5
As Maria Town, president of the American Association of People with Disabilities, pointed out in a statement, Trump’s use of disability as an insult is indicative of his ableism.
“To be clear, the insult of Donald Trump’s comment is not the suggestion that Vice President Harris is disabled, but rather, the insinuation that having a disability is synonymous with poor performance as a prospective president,” Town said.
Ableism is also questionable political strategy, given that, as Town notes: “there are more than 38 million eligible voters with disabilities in the United States, who possess a wide variety of beliefs.”
Some allies have tried to come to Trump’s defense, or offer damage control. South Carolina Republican Sen. Lindsey Graham said on CNN’s State of the Union that while Harris “is not crazy…her policies are.” Graham didn’t repudiate Trump’s comments, nor did he acknowledge their bigotry—and he ignored that disabled people have asked people to not use the word “crazy,” a derogatory reference to mental disability, in such contexts.
In a Face the Nation interview, former Maryland Gov. Larry Hogan, who is running for Senate as a Republican, said that Trump’s comments about Harris were “insulting not only to the to the vice president, but to people that actually do have mental disabilities.”
Katy Neas, CEO of The Arc, an organization which supports people with intellectual and developmental disabilities, agrees. “When public figures mock disability, they’re not just attacking political opponents,” Neas said in a statement Sunday. “Millions of people with disabilities and their families are hearing that they and their loved ones are devalued.”
Trump’s views on disability may also be linked to his views on eugenics: “The family subscribes to a racehorse theory of human development,” Trump biographer Michael D’Antonio said in a 2016 Frontline documentary, according to HuffPost. “They believe that there are superior people and that if you put together the genes of a superior woman and a superior man, you get a superior offspring.”
Disabled people, generally, are viewed to have “weaker” genes—making them a target of eugenicist policies, both horrifically in the Holocaust, whose architects shared Trump’s views that disabled people should “just die,” and through laws that allow disabled people to continue to be sterilized without their consent to this day.
In an August interview I conducted with, Fred Trump III, the younger Trump said that his uncle demeans “people that he thinks are lesser than him”; notably, many members of the Trump family have never met his disabled son.
Trump has seemingly not yet addressed the backlash: his recent posts on Truth Social are about immigration and attending a football game.
While she did not use the term, VP Harris did laugh and reply “well said” in response to someone calling Trump “mentally retarded” in 2019. She did, however—unlike Trump—apologize.
When my staff played the video from my town hall yesterday, it was upsetting. I didn’t hear the words the man used in that moment, but if I had I would’ve stopped and corrected him. I’m sorry. That word and others like it aren’t acceptable. Ever. https://t.co/mNmo1hyNpW
In the final weeks before Election Day on November 5, Town said that she hopes “all candidates will treat our community with dignity and respect, instead of using us as a punchline to score cheap political points.”
Former President Donald Trump has disdain for disabled people. As Fred Trump III, his nephew, revealed this year, the former President said in 2020 that people with complex disabilities “should just die.” Even before that, Trump hatefully mocked a disabled reporter at a rally in 2015, and called the Paralympics “tough to watch” in 2018.
Now, Trump has referred to his opponent in the 2024 presidential race, Vice President Kamala Harris, as “mentally disabled” at a Saturday rally—where he also called President Joe Biden “mentally impaired.”
Trump: Joe Biden became mentally impaired. Kamala was born that way. She was born that way. And if you think about it, only a mentally disabled person could have allowed this to happen to our country. pic.twitter.com/v6Yo6uINp5
As Maria Town, president of the American Association of People with Disabilities, pointed out in a statement, Trump’s use of disability as an insult is indicative of his ableism.
“To be clear, the insult of Donald Trump’s comment is not the suggestion that Vice President Harris is disabled, but rather, the insinuation that having a disability is synonymous with poor performance as a prospective president,” Town said.
Ableism is also questionable political strategy, given that, as Town notes: “there are more than 38 million eligible voters with disabilities in the United States, who possess a wide variety of beliefs.”
Some allies have tried to come to Trump’s defense, or offer damage control. South Carolina Republican Sen. Lindsey Graham said on CNN’s State of the Union that while Harris “is not crazy…her policies are.” Graham didn’t repudiate Trump’s comments, nor did he acknowledge their bigotry—and he ignored that disabled people have asked people to not use the word “crazy,” a derogatory reference to mental disability, in such contexts.
In a Face the Nation interview, former Maryland Gov. Larry Hogan, who is running for Senate as a Republican, said that Trump’s comments about Harris were “insulting not only to the to the vice president, but to people that actually do have mental disabilities.”
Katy Neas, CEO of The Arc, an organization which supports people with intellectual and developmental disabilities, agrees. “When public figures mock disability, they’re not just attacking political opponents,” Neas said in a statement Sunday. “Millions of people with disabilities and their families are hearing that they and their loved ones are devalued.”
Trump’s views on disability may also be linked to his views on eugenics: “The family subscribes to a racehorse theory of human development,” Trump biographer Michael D’Antonio said in a 2016 Frontline documentary, according to HuffPost. “They believe that there are superior people and that if you put together the genes of a superior woman and a superior man, you get a superior offspring.”
Disabled people, generally, are viewed to have “weaker” genes—making them a target of eugenicist policies, both horrifically in the Holocaust, whose architects shared Trump’s views that disabled people should “just die,” and through laws that allow disabled people to continue to be sterilized without their consent to this day.
In an August interview I conducted with, Fred Trump III, the younger Trump said that his uncle demeans “people that he thinks are lesser than him”; notably, many members of the Trump family have never met his disabled son.
Trump has seemingly not yet addressed the backlash: his recent posts on Truth Social are about immigration and attending a football game.
While she did not use the term, VP Harris did laugh and reply “well said” in response to someone calling Trump “mentally retarded” in 2019. She did, however—unlike Trump—apologize.
When my staff played the video from my town hall yesterday, it was upsetting. I didn’t hear the words the man used in that moment, but if I had I would’ve stopped and corrected him. I’m sorry. That word and others like it aren’t acceptable. Ever. https://t.co/mNmo1hyNpW
In the final weeks before Election Day on November 5, Town said that she hopes “all candidates will treat our community with dignity and respect, instead of using us as a punchline to score cheap political points.”
On Friday, MinnesotaRep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) will introduce a potentially groundbreaking piece of federal legislation in the House of Representatives—one allocating $10 billion in funding to fight Long Covid, the increasingly widespread, chronic condition that follows many Covid infections. The Long Covid Research Moonshot Act is a companion bill to one that Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) introduced in the Senate in August.
“Long Covid is a silent health crisis impacting over twenty-three million Americans, including one million children,” Omar said in a statement to Mother Jones. (Rep. Ayanna Pressley, D-Mass., is the co-lead on the legislation.) “I’m proud to lead this effort in the House to recognize Long Covid as the public health emergency that it is and invest in countering the effects of this terrible disease.”
“Long Covid is a silent health crisis impacting over twenty-three million Americans, including one million children,” Rep. Omar said.
The Long Covid Research Moonshot Act would establish a new research program within the National Institutes of Health to better understand the condition (and others, like ME/CFS and POTS) with its own database, advisory board, and a new grant process to accelerate clinical trials. It would fund public health education and comprehensive care clinics dedicated to Long Covid, especially in underserved, disproportionately affected communities—and would require any new treatments developed through the act to be reasonably priced and accessible to more patients.
“We know that the only path forward out of this generational crisis is to fund research that builds on our expertise about infection-associated chronic conditions like ME/CFS, and that is accountable to the patient community for delivering results, including clinical trials,” said Laurie Jones, executive director of patient advocacy group #MEAction. “The Long Covid Research Moonshot Act lays out a comprehensive plan for doing just that.”
Megan Carmilani, the president of Long Covid Families, believes the bill would fund vital research into how Long Covid presents in young people, a focus of her organization, and called on Congress “to prioritize the health and wellbeing of our nation’s children by supporting this bill as well.”
The Long Covid Research Moonshot Act is not Congress’ first attempt to fund such treatment. In December 2020, Congress allocated $1 billion to NIH to study the long-term impacts of Covid, and boosted that funding by more than $500 million this year.
But a 2022 attempt, Pressley’s TREAT Long Covid Act, did not make it out of committee—despite having 41 co-sponsors, including Rep. Omar. That act, also unsuccessfully reintroduced in 2023, would have made direct grants to clinics that treat Long Covid and associated conditions.
Communities of color and disabled people have been disproportionately harmed by Long Covid. Black and Latino people, for instance, are more likely to develop Long Covid symptoms than white people. Disabled people are twice as likely to do so as non-disabled people. A February 2023 analysis published by JAMA Network found that people with Long Covid symptoms, which can include severe fatigue and issues with cognitive function, are more likely to be unemployed. The only way not to get Long Covid is to avoid Covid infections, underscoring the importance of mask-wearing and high-quality air filtration.
“We must take bold action to help Americans suffering from Long Covid,” Omar said in her statement.
On Tuesday, US District Judge R. David Proctor ruled in an injunction that part of Alabama’s voter suppression law SB1—state legislation that made it a felony to assist disabled people in requesting and filling absentee ballots—was an unenforceable violation of the federal Voting Rights Act. The rest of SB1, which nominally targets the practice of “ballot harvesting,” will remain intact for the time being.
SB1, which was enacted inMarch, prohibited “any person from ordering, requesting, collecting, prefilling, obtaining, or delivering an absentee ballot application or absentee ballot of a voter.” The law also established criminal penalties for people who assisted others with absentee voting.
In April, the Alabama NAACP, the state chapter of the League of Women Voters , Greater Birmingham Ministries, and the Alabama Disabilities Advocacy Program sued Alabama Attorney General Steve Marshall and other state government officials, asking for an injunction.
As their lawsuit points out, the US Code explicitly protects people’s rights to receive assistance while voting:
Any voter who requires assistance to vote by reason of blindness, disability, or inability to read or write may be given assistance by a person of the voter’s choice, other than the voter’s employer or agent of that employer or officer or agent of the voter’s union.
In his opinion, Proctor acknowledged that SB1 disproportionately affected disabled and low literacy voters: “SB 1 unduly burdens the rights of Section 208 voters to make a choice about who may assist them in obtaining and returning an absentee ballot,” the judge wrote.
In a statement released after Proctor’s decision, the plaintiffs celebrated the injunction as a positive step in upholding democracy.
We’re glad that the district court has sided with the rights of the voters and is committed to promoting voting accessibility. Our democracy works best when everybody can participate in it, and this ruling prevents the enforcement of a cruel law that would have suppressed the voices of blind, disabled, and low literacy voters.
On Tuesday, US District Judge R. David Proctor ruled in an injunction that part of Alabama’s voter suppression law SB1—state legislation that made it a felony to assist disabled people in requesting and filling absentee ballots—was an unenforceable violation of the federal Voting Rights Act. The rest of SB1, which nominally targets the practice of “ballot harvesting,” will remain intact for the time being.
SB1, which was enacted inMarch, prohibited “any person from ordering, requesting, collecting, prefilling, obtaining, or delivering an absentee ballot application or absentee ballot of a voter.” The law also established criminal penalties for people who assisted others with absentee voting.
In April, the Alabama NAACP, the state chapter of the League of Women Voters , Greater Birmingham Ministries, and the Alabama Disabilities Advocacy Program sued Alabama Attorney General Steve Marshall and other state government officials, asking for an injunction.
As their lawsuit points out, the US Code explicitly protects people’s rights to receive assistance while voting:
Any voter who requires assistance to vote by reason of blindness, disability, or inability to read or write may be given assistance by a person of the voter’s choice, other than the voter’s employer or agent of that employer or officer or agent of the voter’s union.
In his opinion, Proctor acknowledged that SB1 disproportionately affected disabled and low literacy voters: “SB 1 unduly burdens the rights of Section 208 voters to make a choice about who may assist them in obtaining and returning an absentee ballot,” the judge wrote.
In a statement released after Proctor’s decision, the plaintiffs celebrated the injunction as a positive step in upholding democracy.
We’re glad that the district court has sided with the rights of the voters and is committed to promoting voting accessibility. Our democracy works best when everybody can participate in it, and this ruling prevents the enforcement of a cruel law that would have suppressed the voices of blind, disabled, and low literacy voters.
Disabled people are five times more likely to experience domestic violence than non-disabled people, and make up a third of its victims, according to a new report published today by the federal Government Accountability Office. People with cognitive disabilities, such as those who are autistic, are even more likely to be abused. Disabled women are also more likely to be the target of such violence than disabled men.
The rates of abuse, drawn from Justice Department data from 2017 to 2022 underscore the necessity for domestic violence centers and their services to be accessible to disabled people—which is required by both the Americans with Disabilities Act and Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, key items of federal civil rights legislation, but is not always the case. ADA enforcement, for instance, often requires disabled people to make complaints after the fact. Someone actively experiencing domestic violence may not have the capacity to do so, let alone wait for a center to make itself accessible—highlightingthe importance of government enforcement of accessibility laws for disabled people’s safety.
“The GAO report highlights a critical gap in our domestic violence services for individuals with disabilities.”
“We must guarantee that our systems are not only adequately funded but also effectively implemented, so survivors, regardless of their abilities, receive the support they need,” said Rep. Bobby Scott (D-Vir.), who released the report with Rep. Suzanne Bonamici (D-Ore.),in a statement to Mother Jones.
The GAO report investigated whether domestic violence programs that receive funding from the Department of Health and Human Services are accessible to disabled people; most of the domestic violence centers interviewed for the report across Maryland, Mississippi and Washington said that they served relatively few disabled survivors, and officials at nine of 12 centers weren’t certain how to identify whether a survivor had a disability. Some disability groups, according to the report, say that local centers do not work with them to better reach disabled survivors.
Disabled people may also be scared to report domestic violence if they are abused by people they rely on for caregiving, as the report notes:
One domestic violence group told us that some people with disabilities who require caregiving to live in their homes may not seek domestic violence services because they are reluctant to report the abuse they have suffered. Officials from that group said people with disabilities who require caregiving may be worried that if they seek domestic violence services from a local center, law enforcement or other authorities will be notified of the abuse and move them from their preferred living situations into institutions.
HHS is responsible for ensuring compliance with federal law at the institutions it makes grants to, but here it also falls short, investigators found. The GAO report notes that there were no accessibility-related findings from on-site visits by HHS from 2019 to 2022 across 17 states, which HHS says it’s addressing by updating its monitoring requirements “to include more specific accessibility compliance questions.”
Investigators also reached out to resource centers like the National Network to End Domestic Violence: 11 of the 16 that responded said they shared best practices for how to work with survivors with disabilities, but only two have developed technical assistance on making shelters accessible to disabled people. GAO’s site visits, the report says, “raise questions about whether the assistance provided by national resource centers and state coalitions” addresses local needs, made still more difficult by a lack of data on accessibility needs and efforts.
“The GAO report highlights a critical gap in our domestic violence services for individuals with disabilities,” Scott said. “We must invest in the collection of crucial data to understand the needs of survivors with disabilities, but also must ensure this information leads to meaningful improvements.”
The report, available in full on GAO’s website, recommends that HHS investigate how it can better support local centers in accessibility and support for disabled survivors, and implement those changes.
Drug overdose deaths have been on the rise for years, devastating communities nationwide. But as National Public Radio reported on Wednesday, that trend may be changing—so much so, said one expert who spoke to NPR, Dr. Nabarun Dasgupta of the University of North Carolina, that he anticipates as many as 20,000 fewer annual overdose deaths in coming years. Overall, in the twelve months beginning April 2023, the United States saw a decrease in drug overdose deaths of more than 12 percent—marking the first year since 2020 that overdose deaths have fallen.
The exact causes of the decrease are not yet completely clear to experts. Dr. Nora Volkow of the National Institute on Drug Abuse said that “expansion of naloxone,” which is used to quickly reverse the respiratory depression associated with opioid overdoses, and other opioid medications, are among the strategies that have worked.
Previous data from the National Institute on Drug Abuse has shown that, since 2015, more people have died from opioid overdoses than from any other drugs. Research shows that making Narcan—naloxone’s trade name—available at syringe sites reduces deaths by around 65 percent.
The fall in overdose deaths does vary by state. For example, according to the CDC, North Carolina saw a 40 percent decrease in drug overdose deaths—but others, such as Alaska, saw an equal increase. Alaska’s case is particularly alarming, as the state has the highest proportion of Indigenous people in the county, whom CDC data shows are more likely to die from drug overdoses.
Even in areas where drug overdose deaths are increasing, as the NPR report highlights, investigating which strategies work should lead to more effective measures throughout the country. "If interventions are what's driving this decline," Dasgupta said, "then let's double down on those interventions."
Drug overdose deaths have been on the rise for years, devastating communities nationwide. But as National Public Radio reported on Wednesday, that trend may be changing—so much so, said one expert who spoke to NPR, Dr. Nabarun Dasgupta of the University of North Carolina, that he anticipates as many as 20,000 fewer annual overdose deaths in coming years. Overall, in the twelve months beginning April 2023, the United States saw a decrease in drug overdose deaths of more than 12 percent—marking the first year since 2020 that overdose deaths have fallen.
The exact causes of the decrease are not yet completely clear to experts. Dr. Nora Volkow of the National Institute on Drug Abuse said that “expansion of naloxone,” which is used to quickly reverse the respiratory depression associated with opioid overdoses, and other opioid medications, are among the strategies that have worked.
Previous data from the National Institute on Drug Abuse has shown that, since 2015, more people have died from opioid overdoses than from any other drugs. Research shows that making Narcan—naloxone’s trade name—available at syringe sites reduces deaths by around 65 percent.
The fall in overdose deaths does vary by state. For example, according to the CDC, North Carolina saw a 40 percent decrease in drug overdose deaths—but others, such as Alaska, saw an equal increase. Alaska’s case is particularly alarming, as the state has the highest proportion of Indigenous people in the county, whom CDC data shows are more likely to die from drug overdoses.
Even in areas where drug overdose deaths are increasing, as the NPR report highlights, investigating which strategies work should lead to more effective measures throughout the country. "If interventions are what's driving this decline," Dasgupta said, "then let's double down on those interventions."
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