Chris Cearnal

Amanda's Story in her own words drawn from interviews over several months between summer 2020 and spring 2021. 

I wanted to be a public servant, but I always had my parent's voice in my head; the only way I can get in the game is with money and fame. Nothing I ever had.

It was not a good idea, and I would not have missed it for the world.

I've spent a lot of time going back and forth between nature and nurture. Wondering what came from where and I think this one's nature. I think it is in me. It's just something that I was. This drive I had my entire life. My parents never understood it. They were always going off on me. Amanda and her activism. Amanda and her cause. Amanda and her fuckin' soapbox, you know? They didn't respect it, didn't appreciate it. But when I learned more about my birth family, I think it was always there. My birth family dates back to the Revolution, the American Revolution. I had ancestors in the Revolution. I had ancestors that walked the Trail of Tears down in Oklahoma. I think it all just kind of created a passion for justice.

I grew up wanting to be somebody who could make it better. I've always felt a calling towards politics, but I grew up in a family where the closest you could come to politics is as a politician's wife. When Hilary Clinton ran, they said, "Oh, the only reason she got into the Senate was because her husband was president, and she has money and fame." That was the story for so many women. When AOC came, it showed me that anybody could do it.

I became a firefighter and an EMT because I thought that was the only way I was going to be able to serve my community. I was like, politics? No way. I don't have the money to get into that. I don't have the ability. I ended up running much of my campaign for Congress on my own with my friend Heather's help. If there is an election, and if I'm still alive, I'll be running again in 2022.

When I was getting my firefighters certificate, I was volunteering and working as an EMT. And I was going to school full-time and a mom and working full-time and very busy doing the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts. I thought things would be different.

During my Congressional campaign and everything, if I take Dobby, {Amanda's service dog}, people will stop and talk to me. They are drawn in by him. But the moment I don't have Dobby, nobody would stop and talk to me. We did an event, and we put congressional and state candidates in wheelchairs for an afternoon during Roll for our Rights. The one thing they noticed is the moment they were in a wheelchair, people didn't look at them. We are trained in society not to look at disabled people because it is seen as staring if you even look at them. A lot of that comes from our 'Ugly laws', which lasted until 1974-75. It was illegal for disabled and 'undesirable' people to be out in public because we would be seen as panhandling or trying to get money or sympathy. The last person arrested under the 'Ugly laws' was in 1974, I believe.

In the first days of the protests. I was down there on my own, trying to help out any way I can. That's how it started out. I saw spaces that needed to be filled. Since then it's definitely changed. I've taken over more of a support role, trying to get things organized, making sure we have medical supplies, that the information is going out. I'm here to help in any way I can.

I've taken over more of a support role trying to get things organized, making sure we have medical supplies, that the information is going out. I'm here to help any way I can.

I mean, me, I've been preparing for this almost my entire life, collecting skills, studying revolutions. That was one of my big focuses in college, community organizing, social activism. I've been preparing and studying for a long time. Even with that, it still wasn't enough. I still wasn't ready emotionally, physically. I always thought growing up that I'd be raising my son to lead the revolution. I never thought that as a woman or a disabled woman that it would ever fall to me, to our generation or anything like that. I thought it'd be one generation out. 

I thought I'd be preparing him, and no, it came early.

I was 20 when I found out about my birth family, and things started making sense. I never had a blood relation my entire life, but the moment I met my birth mom, we had the same mannerisms, the same favorite foods. We were both EMTs and firefighters. She's disabled now, but she's a fighter. I think it's in some people like that; the desire for a better world.

Keagan, he'll be thirteen in November. He understands why we are on the street. My son's always been informed, but it's still hard for him. He knows I'm down there every day. Risking my life. He would rather when he's at his dad's house not know what's going on because he sits up and worries.

My son was four, almost five, when I had the accident at work that started this, so he's grown up almost his entire life with a disabled mom. 

It makes him a better person in many ways, more compassionate, more understanding. Way more willing to help.

He knows the goal is to make a better world. He's the real warrior with what he is sacrificing for this movement. 

All of our kids. 

He is proud, but he's scared. He's like, my mom is one of the leaders of the revolution. This is fucking awesome. Not many kids can say that, but at the same time, it takes a toll.

I never plan. My plans changed a lot when I became disabled. I never thought I would be doing this. Never.

If I go in there and there is nothing wrong with me, but I say I am in an immense amount of pain, they look at me like I'm an addict, just trying to score some pills. 

I have to be judicious about when I go to the ER and go to the hospital. Anything can be used to take away my medication. 

That's the reality that we live with as chronic pain patients. 

This is why so many will have strokes and heart attacks and never go to the hospital. People can end up dead because they know that if something is not seriously wrong, they will risk losing their medications. They cannot tell until their nerves calm down, and if something is seriously wrong, then they're dead. 

I lost everything because of my disability. I lost my family. I lost custody of my son. I lost my second husband. 

Because nobody understands pain. You can't see it. So people don't get it. 

We in our country do such a piss poor job at dealing with pain. We see pain as weakness, right?

I thought I understood shit before. I thought in my limited world experience that I got it. 

Every day is just a reminder that I don't got it. I still have so much to learn. 

We'll never really get to learn everybody's experiences until we stop to talk and listen.

Any pain. Physical, mental, emotional, we just don't do a good job with it. It takes a village to survive nowadays. We are in such a me-centered time that it's no wonder people are failing. It's no wonder people feel so isolated, so depressed. We tell people the way to show strength and independence is by being alone and doing it yourself. One thing I've learned with a disability is that you need community. You need a support system. Otherwise, you're toast.

We need to get back to recognizing that everyone has something to contribute. It may not be your typical nine to five, but we have something to contribute. The disabled community are some of the best online warriors you will ever find. They know their shit. When it comes to filling out government paperwork and doing lawyers and bureaucracy go to a disabled person. We can get you through everything. After years of dealing with that, we know it. We have value. We have things that we can offer.

Our parents had careers; they had stable jobs. They had things that they were working for, for generations, for years. For decades. We don't have any of that. Those jobs don't exist anymore. We don't have anything to pass on to our kids other than this legacy and a hope for change. This is what we are leaving behind. This world is what we are trying to make better for them.

My house is always a safe place. They come over and decorate the Christmas tree. They were here for Thanksgiving last year. We have our own special dinner when their families aren't doing things, our own special holiday together. It's awesome. We love them like they're ours. The kids always know I will bend over backward for them, but they also know I will be straight with them and call them out when I need to. I don't take shit and they know there are rules in Amanda's house. But at the same time, they will always be loved and accepted for who they are, no matter what. We can teach them that it can be better.

Parents shouldn't have to decide whether their kids are going to eat. Whether they will be active participants in their kids' lives or spend all their time working so their kids can have a home and food. 

Families should be able to survive. They should have dignity. 

They should have that quality of life. They shouldn't have teeth rotting out of their heads. Their kids shouldn't have horrible medical conditions that keep getting worse because they don't have insurance. 

The way we look at everything when it comes down to dollars is an example of how broken everything is. 

When we elect people and decouple our government and our system from that system of profiteering, are we gonna get the change that we need? These should not be elitist jobs. These should be jobs by and for the people.

Mutual aid was the next natural progression, especially when the fires happened. There was a need. We filled it. Our government should be out here doing this. Our government should be having tents and community centers and stuff set up. When the government fails, the people take over. We saw the government failing; it wasn't responding to the fires, so we stepped up and filled in the void. We see the government failing so many times across the board. Failing with disability rights. Failing with the Black community. Failing with the Hispanic community, just failing.

We wanted this mutual aid to show we don't need to be divided. We don't care who comes to get stuff, who needs anything. We will help you out no matter what because we are all the people. The enemy is the government. 

The enemy is the one coming in here, killing people, beating people, not taking care of people, poisoning our planet. It'd time that we take care of people. That is the next logical progression.

We call it a reverse mugging where we come up to you, we give you clothes, and we give you food, we give you money. We'll give you everything you need to put you on your feet and send you out into the world.

My job is to take the knowledge that people are giving me, listen, and to try to apply it in the best way I can. The one time I did take the mic was because there were doctors {speaking} and no patient voices. They needed the patient's voice.

A public servant is not a role where you take a life of luxury. It is a hard role where you work, and you sacrifice for other people's comfort. That's what we need. We need servants who are there to take care of other people as their priority. Who will give everything they have to move other people forward. That's what we don't have right now.

As far as I'm concerned, our political leaders, our progressive candidates should be in the back as the support system down there every day doing what they can to make the movement happen without taking an out-front leadership role. Because that is not my spot. That's not where I'm meant to be.

The idea that we are protecting our political people by not having them in the streets helping and representing and listening to the voices does us a disservice. 

If we need leaders, they need to know what they're doing and who they are fighting for, and what people want because otherwise, it's just more out of touch self-serving BS..

What they {politicians} don't want to give up is that power. They won't do it. That's part of the problem we have with Susanne Bonamichi. That's part of the problem we have with Kate Brown, and that's the other problem we have with Blumenthal and every other politician, state, local, federal. I mean, they talk a big game, but when it comes down to it, how many of them are out there in the streets helping people? How many are putting their money and their time where their mouth is and trying to make things better for the people? And it's all about them and how they can use these protests to make a name for themselves. To do what they can to show up that one day, take that one photoshoot, and walk away. That's not the type of leaders we need and not the type of leaders that should be in Congress. We need people who will lead by example and aren't afraid to screw up, make mistakes, and are human. Their one true focus should be towards the people and doing what you can to make their lives better.

There's a lot of room for conversation and a lot of room to fix those preconceived notions and misinformation. We need to sit down and take an honest look and be willing to be open-minded. It comes down to people's willingness to accept change. I've found a lot of people on the left who are willing to talk and admit, yeah, we do things that are wrong. We could have handled situations better, and we fucked up here. No problem. But I don't find the same self-awareness on the right, and that's part of the problem. 

It comes back to arrogance too that I didn't do anything wrong. It's everybody else that is messing up. I'm doing everything right.

It seems like they {the police} don't care. Like they don't look at us and see humans anymore. They look at us and see the silent and dark extremists that Trump calls us. They don't want to because it's easier for them to do their job.

If they don't see us as humans, they can do whatever they can do, threaten us and vilify us and make us seem like we are the aggressors. If they had to take a step back and realize that they're the one's in the wrong, they'd have to deal with that. They're the police. They're supposed to be right. The're supposed to be the law. They're supposed to be the ones that hold up the ideals of our society, and if they are the ones that are aggressing and they are the ones violent towards us, then it means that our society is damaged, broken, backwards.

If what we {the protesters} are saying is true, it breaks the mentality of what our country believes it is. They can't accept that. They don't want to see the truth because they want to believe this apple pie and cherry tree..., that we are this infallible country and we're just not. 

We need to accept the reality that we do things wrong and that we can be better, and that we have a right and a need and a responsibility to be better.

Yeah, I don't like the idea of being thought of as an inspiration or anything. 

If it weren't for the wheelchair, it's something that anybody would do. It's only an inspiration because I'm in a wheelchair, and I don't like that. 

I mean, what I see myself doing is no different than anything anybody else is doing. The idea that it is anything special just seems weird to me.

It's easier for them if we are all divided. Because the moment we realize that there's more that unifies than divides us, they lose the complete power they have over us and we realize that we hold the power.

It was brutal. I saw the video of when they tried to handcuff his hands behind his back. I was in DC when it happened. {Referring to Dustin,a fellow protestor with Brittle Bone Disease who also uses a wheelchair}. Dustin's arms don't move like that. They ended up tearing his rotator cuff and he was sitting there screaming. I have a broken arm. I have a broken arm. They used three sets of Ziplock cuffs to tie his hands behind his wheelchair. It was brutal.

The amount of brutality and complete and utter disregard, I mean, there is no reason for the police to be interacting with the disabled community as much as they are at any level. There is a reason that half of those killed by police are disabled, usually mentally disabled. They can't connect and talk and deal with the police the way an able-bodied person can. The police look at them with such disregard and disdain. It puts our lives in jeopardy, and they don't care. They don't care at all whether we are disabled or not. They are more concerned about the bad press they are going to get than whether they're going to physically damage us or destroy our functionality.

Some nights are easier physically than others. There's some places where I'm like, sh*t we're going there again? Tonight we are going to ICE again, and I'm like, Oh God.

Honestly, we have learned not to care so much anymore. We're at that point where we are so comfortable with each other. It's like dude, if something happens, you're going to be saving my life. You'll probably have your hands inside of me at some point in time, trying to keep me alive.

It's just such a family down there. We are such a community, and we're all down there because we care. Because we want to see change. Because we're trying to do our part. We're all one big family, and we're trying to accept each other as that family. I think that's kind of what we could build, this cohesive unit where people who are willing to be like, I see this need right here. I can fill that.

The strongest bonds I've formed are at these protests.

What we've set up is just extraordinary. We have you know people that do snacks and people that do hydration. We have a pizza bloc that brings dinner into the protest and makes sure we are all fed. We have medics. We have our own Uber and transport service to evac protesters and get them home safe. After three months, you either get organized or go down. Everybody is stepping up to do their part and fill the role they can fill. We have moms who can't be down on the front line, but they can drive and pick people up and get them home safe. Some people have mopeds and motorcycles, and they go around and make sure traffic is blocked off, and we're safe. There was no formal call out for it. We all have our own little leadership. There is no one leader.

Power corrupts, and money corrupts, and when we centralize either, then we have an issue. We've seen that in Portland, where one group got three hundred thousand dollars in donations, and then they did what they thought was appropriate with the money. People in Portland had a different idea, and it led to a lot of tensions. That's what happens with centralized power. It's hard to get your voice across. It's hard to ensure that all people and all audiences are represented. With a leaderless movement, we have everybody having a voice and ensuring everything is going right. We decentralized the money. Everyone has their own little stockpiles, and we can pass things around if needed or put call outs for other groups and help them out. Power is not centralized. There's no way to corrupt that power. It's a lot of people doing what they think best for the movement.

I had a seizure yesterday. It was just me trying to get from one side of the house to the other to take a bath. I couldn't use my wheelchair because of the amount of drag with the carpet, and with my shoulder right now, I can't. Not one bit of this apartment is wheelchair accessible—the walls, doorways, the high counters, the tight turns. The Oregon Health plan would not approve a wheelchair for me. I have one because of a disabled vet, my friend Heather. Every two years, they can get their wheelchairs upgraded. Heather saved her old wheelchair and gave it to me. That's a $4,500 wheelchair. $4,500 bucks.

Because I can't be touched at all it makes it really, really hard. Even when I was doing acupunture the itty bitty needles started causing little wounds that wouldn't heal. When my pain gets out of control I start to have seizures. After that I'm at risk for stroke. 

When a disabled child grows up and wants to marry an able-bodied adult, They can lose all their benefits. It doesn't matter their level of income.

We would not have been able to do that without the Black Panthers, so we are kind of giving back.

Look at the bathrooms, the Max, every part of it is made by an able bodied person who looked at it and said, well, this kind of looks like a disabled person could get up or down it. 

It is not in any way accessibility.

{Businesses} will have a wheelchair ramp going up to a heavy door, and you're like sliding backwards. It's terrible. We can't get around, and nobody ever thinks about it. So if we can help make a change for the Black community and we can get basic human rights for all, we are hoping that includes us too.

At the Democrat Party building, they're like, oh yeah, it's a wheelchair accessible building. No way. You have the angle of the parking lot going into it so steep that I had to get out of {the wheelchair}, even with Dobby and like kick it up the thing. That's our Democrat party. They don't even have disability rights on the platform. They include it under ensure human rights for all. Yep.

When I hear people saying this is a civil war, I try very hard to correct them. The problem we have is not with the people. It's not a Red vs. Blue fight. This is purple people versus the government. That distinction isn't made by enough Democrats and Republicans. They are not our enemy. Our enemy is a broken ass system that profiteers off of the pain and suffering of the people.

They brought the whole protest to a stop. The entire march all came to help me out, get me back up. Pick up all my stuff. They were just amazing, you know? They helped me down the rest of the hill to make sure I didn't go too fast. They were right there. They were awesome. They were awesome.

We have been preparing our entire lives.