[Congressional Record Volume 152, Number 117 (Tuesday, September 19, 2006)]
[Senate]
[Pages S9717-S9719]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
TRIBUTE TO BEN CHATER
Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, in my 32 years as a U.S. Senator, I have
met many extraordinary people. They have included Presidents, Kings and
Nobel laureates, artists, soldiers, nurses, activists, and ordinary
Americans who are doing any number of wonderful, selfless, and
courageous things for their families, their communities, and their
country. Some of these people chose careers in public service. Others
were leading normal, uneventful lives when they were unexpectedly
confronted with circumstances that caused them to become leaders. Many
have simply lived inconspicuous lives caring for others. And then there
are those who have struggled to overcome unfair and seemingly
impossible hurdles and in doing so have shown a force of character and
spirit that breaks barriers and inspires awe among everyone they meet.
Ben Chater, a Vermonter who interned in my office several years ago
during the summer after his sophomore year at the University of
California at Berkeley, is in the latter category. Born with cerebral
palsy, Ben has faced obstacles from birth that the rest of us could not
even imagine, much less overcome. He has done so with amazing grace,
courage, and good humor, and his accomplishments are nothing short of
awe inspiring. Ben's refusal to let his disability prevent him from
taking on practically any challenge has been an example for me and my
wife Marcelle, for my staff, and for virtually everyone who has come
into contact with him.
I have little doubt that Ben will continue to set ambitious goals and
in reaching them he will demonstrate even further the incredible
capacity of the human spirit to overcome adversity. He will also
continue to erase the stereotypes and misconceptions about the
potential of people with disabilities.
Ben was recently the subject of an article in the Vermont Sunday
Magazine by Tom Slayton, who is also the editor of Vermont Life, and I
ask unanimous consent that it be printed in the Record so others can be
inspired by Ben's life and accomplishments.
There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in
the Record, as follows:
[From the Vermont Sunday Magazine, September 10, 2006].
``In Awe of Ben''--Ben Chater, 23, with cerebral palsy, finishes
Berkeley, prepares for life's next challenge
(By Tom Slayton)
This is the story of a fine mind living in a body that
won't cooperate.
Ben Chater, 23, of Montpelier has had cerebral palsy since
birth. Due to a difficult birth, Ben's brain was deprived of
oxygen for a few moments. As a result, he has a major
disability--he has limited control over movements of his
limbs, or the rest of his body.
He requires assistance with everyday living--getting
dressed in the morning, eating a meal, taking a shower. He
speaks with some difficulty and requires a motorized
wheelchair to get around.
However, Ben's mind is complete and undamaged. In fact, he
is extremely bright.
[[Page S9718]]
He graduated this year, with honors, from the University of
California at Berkeley with degrees in English and
linguistics, the study of language--how it works, how sounds
combine to make meaning, how the language we use shapes our
thinking and our experience.
Linguistics is not for the faint of heart. Or mind. But Ben
is neither.
For his work in that field, Ben received the Departmental
Citation for Excellence in Linguistics, awarded by the
faculty of the department to an outstanding student. He was
the only student at Berkeley to receive that award this year.
Ben is not only an outstanding student; he is an
outstanding person.
After talking with him for even a few minutes, one forgets
the fact that he is in a powered chair and has some
difficulty forming words. What remains is the lasting
impression of an intelligent, positive, hopeful young man.
``I'm frankly in awe of Ben,'' says his mother, Maude
Chater. ``There's a grace about him that I don't understand--
nor do I need to.''
Maude and her husband, Mike, have worked long and hard to
help Ben achieve an independent life. Perhaps the hardest
thing for them to do, in recent years, has been to stand back
and get out of Ben's way.
``It's very hard for families to resist their protective
instincts,'' she notes quietly.
In addition to academic success that would be remarkable in
a person with normal abilities, Ben has served as an intern
in the office of U.S. Sen. Patrick J. Leahy, living in
Washington while working for the senator. And he recently
took--and aced--the LSAT exams--the qualifying exam for law
school.
However, all that success does not eliminate the fact that
he has difficulties the rest of us cannot imagine.
Recently, Ben went outside into the back yard to check on a
blueberry patch, alone, while family members were out and
about, as usual. He drove his motorized chair uphill
toward some trees--and got mired in a soft spot in the
yard.
Two hours later, when his mother arrived back home, she
found Ben, still mired, still in his chair, stuck in front of
one of the trees. When she went to assist him, Ben's only wry
comment was:
``It's a nice tree . . . really!''
Early on--when Ben was a junior at Montpelier High School,
to be exact--his special qualities became apparent to all of
his classmates.
For Ben, as for most kids, it was a time of change,
uncertainty and social stress. Many of the young people he
had grown up with had begun to change their interests, and
old friends drifted away and new ones didn't appear to take
their places. More than most kids, Ben felt isolated.
Unlike most kids, though, he decided to do something about
it. He received permission from the school administration to
call a school-wide assembly, and at it he spoke to his fellow
students about what he saw and felt. He spoke about what it
was like to be Ben Chater, teenager, confused and lonely. ``I
felt I needed to do something,'' Ben says, remembering the
assembly.
What he discovered that day was that he was not alone. Many
of his classmates and other students approached him afterward
and said they felt exactly the same way--and they thanked him
for putting their feelings into words along with his own.
``I don't know a single kid who loved every minute of high
school,'' he says.
With his parents' backing and encouragement, he has always
tried to join in the activities and share the interests of
his peers. If a school field trip involved climbing a
mountain, Ben's first thought was not: ``I can't go,'' but
``How can I climb the mountain, too?''
(Answer: ``We need to get a really strong guy to carry me
up the mountain on his back.'' And that's the way it
happened.)
But college presented a whole new set of challenges.
How could Ben get by without the assistance of his parents?
(Answer: Hire and manage assistants. There are some Social
Security funds for just that purpose.)
How could he do the immense amount of work that college
typically demands? What about lengthy term papers, for
example?
(Answer: The world of electronic communication--computers,
e-mail, the Web, blogging and so on--has actually been very
helpful to Ben. True, his hands and fingers won't obey his
mental commands, but he makes expert use of a headset that
enables him to type by tapping with a pointer attached to
his head.
When ``translated'' into computer strokes and electronic
impulses, Ben's words and ideas can be communicated freely.
And the excellence of his ideas and scholarship stands out.)
How would Ben get to classes in a multi-story building,
meet with professors, register, even accomplish something as
basic as going to the bathroom in a standard multi-story
academic building? (Answer: Attend a university that prides
itself on integrating disabled students into all its classes
and activities.)
After considerable research and a couple of visits, Ben
decided to apply and was accepted at Berkeley, one of the
nation's most competitive universities.
``Going to Berkeley expanded my horizons in just about
every way imaginable,'' he says of the school, which is
located across the bay from San Francisco.
As Ben explains the situation at Berkeley, he smiles and
mentions the school's diverse, multi-ethnic, multi-cultural
student body.
``In most cities, `diversity,' means there are a lot of
different sections of town, each with its own different
ethnicity or whatever,'' he said. ``But in Berkeley,
everybody--all the different kinds of people--lives together.
. . . And that creates a kind of social comfort I had never
seen before.''
People in the Bay area--in California generally, according
to Ben--prefer to make life easy and non-confrontational.
They tend to be more accepting of different kinds of people
because there are a lot of different kinds of people living
close together. That means acceptance is the rule, not the
exception.
``People with disabilities are just another element in that
kind of melting pot,'' Ben said. ``There are a lot of folks
in chairs out there--so it's easy to get around.''
And people with significant disabilities are more accepted,
more worked into the everyday mix of society, he noted.
That doesn't mean that bad things, never happen.
Ben tells the story of the time he went into San Francisco
to a concert. His plan was to meet friends in the city and go
to the Fillmore, one of the city's main event venues. Then
his friends would help him take the Bay Area Rapid Transit
train back across the Bay to his apartment.
But things began to go wrong as soon as he reached San
Francisco. He couldn't find his friends at all, and by the
time the concert got out, he realized that he had to return
home on his own.
Unfortunately, by the time he worked all that out, the BART
trains had stopped for the night, so Ben had to go home by
bus--a much longer and more circuitous route. He found his
way to the Trans-Bay Bus terminal, and got a bus part-way
home, to Oakland. It was late at night by then, and Ben had
to wait in downtown Oakland for a bus to Berkeley.
The bus finally arrived and Ben drove his motorized chair
onto the special lift that buses in the Bay area carry for
passengers with disabilities. At that moment, the lift broke
down.
And so at 3 a.m. Ben sat suspended over the street, waiting
for 45 minutes for a mechanic to come and repair the lift.
Eventually the mechanic fixed the lift, the bus rolled out
of the Oakland station, and Ben got home--as the sun was
rising at about 5 a.m. He passed out in his chair and was
later helped to bed by his roommate.
Such experiences have not cramped Ben's spirit. Now, with
his degree in linguistics, a high score on the LSATs, and
college behind him, he's taking a bit of a break, letting
things settle, thinking about his next move.
There is an employment possibility at Berkeley that he's
considering, but he's also visiting law schools--he and his
father, Mike Chater, checked out Yale last week; and Ben
would also like to visit Columbia and New York University.
Eventually, he plans to apply to several law schools, choose
one, and start next year. He's also thinking about traveling.
Like many young men and women his age, he also doesn't know
precisely what career he wants to follow.
``The thought of being a lawyer . . . working in an office
for the rest of my life is not all that exciting,'' he said.
``But going to law school gives you a lot of options--you can
do a lot of things with a law degree.''
His dad, Ben notes, has counseled him to keep as many
options open as he can.
Ben obviously has some things going for him. One is the
steady, strong support of his parents.
``Our family was definitely oriented around Ben in his
early years,'' Maude Chater says, ``When he got into high
school, he directed us to back off a bit.''
Vacations and trips have occasionally been challenging.
``We travel, but we don't travel light,'' Maude quips.
Independence has been Maude and Mike's goal for Ben since
his birth, and they realize that to foster independence in a
person you have to let them be independent.
But there are moments--especially when Ben wants to take a
significant step forward, like foreign travel or learning to
drive--that can cause the mental brakes to go on in a
parent's head. The difficulties Ben faces with daily living
are probably at least as stressful on his parents as on Ben
himself. But they have learned to stand back. They have
learned to learn.
And they are regularly amazed by their son's courage.
For his part, Ben doesn't waste any time at all on self-
pity. Not a moment.
``I've never spent a lot of time thinking about what life
would be like if I weren't disabled,'' he said recently. ``I
believe that everyone's dealt a set of cards, and it doesn't
matter which cards you're dealt--it's how you play them.''
Interestingly, although he is well aware of the inequities
that people with disabilities face in society, he said
recently, ``There are a lot of things about our society that
aren't right, and that aren't fair.''
But he said he doesn't want to spend his life worrying
about that.
What he said he has learned, and is still learning, is that
the more comfortable people can be with themselves, the more
power they have over their lives--and by extension, the
conditions around them.
Ben doesn't think of himself as a teacher, but he is one.
Those who know him say he has taught them about the dignity
and deep value inherent in every person, no matter
[[Page S9719]]
what their circumstances. At Berkeley, one of his nicknames
was ``The Rabbi,'' because of the wise counsel he would offer
his classmates, when asked.
He remains modest about his achievements, the long learning
process he has come through and the long road that remains
ahead. ``I'm definitely in the middle of a lengthy process of
figuring out which end is up,'' he said. ``It's a process
that everyone has to figure out for themselves.''
And what are his parents' hopes?
``Our hope for Ben is that he is able to live
independently, support himself, and be happy,'' Maude says
``. . . that he finds his place in the world.''
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