Story Wall

Dorothy's Story

Gloria's Story

Hello, my name is Dorothy Anderson. I was born in the Fairbault State Hospital. I left Fairbault when I was a teenager and then I was moved around from place to place living in the Minnesota State Hospital system until the age of about 29.

I started working folding laundry about the age of 16 while I was still in Fairbault. I didn't earn any money for doing that job. It was just one of my chores. I also set the table for meals and washed the dishes every day. I don't remember of having anyone that really took care of me - not a special person that I could go to. I had to learn things on my own.

I eventually moved out of the state hospital system and lived with a family for a few years until I moved into a group home. I was very scared to leave the state hospital because it was all I knew. I didn't know what it was like to be a part of a family.

When I was growing up in the state hospital, I don't remember of having any toys to play with. The clothes I wore I shared with other people. There were no blankets to keep us warm. It was cold in the dorm that I shared with many other children. We just had to snuggle up and try to keep warm with a sheet over us. Some of the kids got bed sores from laying in their beds all day.

Later on, as a teenager, I was moved into a room that I shared with 3 other girls my age. We slept on mattresses on the floor without pillows and often slept in our clothes.

The food we ate was all right but if we didn't finish it they would just warm it up for the next meal. There was nothing to do but sit and watch TV or sit on the floor alongside others with nothing to do making the days endless and boring.

When I got to be an adult, I took care of the babies and cleaned rooms. I earned about $1.00 a day and would spend my money at the canteen for treats or things that I needed like shampoo, toothpaste or deodorant. It was nice to get out of my cottage and go to a job in some other building on the grounds. At least I got to meet new people and the nurses in the baby ward were usually very nice to me. I liked feeding the babies the best.

I have come a long way since living in state hospitals. We have all come a long way since those days. I'm happy to say that I work at a job that I love taking care of animals. I live in a house with 3 other ladies that I have a good time with; although, that's not always easy. I'd rather just live with 1 other person. I go out shopping, out to eat and to movies. I have gone on several vacations to places like Disney World, Nashville, Black Hills. I've been to a lot of places and have enjoyed traveling and the opportunity to see the country.

I feel that I'm a respected and valuable member of my community. Through my People First group, I have participated in several community service projects and am learning to be an advocate for myself and others with disabilities. I enjoy my life.

Seeing the new gravestone markers that have been put in the cemetery made me think of the years I lived in Fairbault State Hospital. Those were years that I remember with mixed feelings - sometimes it was bad and sometimes it was o.k. I wouldn't want to go back. I wouldn't want anyone else to have to grow up in a state hospital like I did. I am glad that the people who lived and died in Minnesota's State Hospitals will now be remembered by name and should not be forgotten.

From Assembly Line to Activism
A story of building leadership through community activism.
by Gloria Steinbring and Jerry Smith

When I moved from Hibbing to Minneapolis in 1968, I thought I was on my way to a new career. My social worker in Hibbing told me that I should get job training, and Minneapolis had schools for this. I was living with my parents in Hibbing at the time, and helped them with raising my younger brother, Duane. I liked working with children, and dreamed of one day working in a day care. I followed my social worker's advice, and moved to Minneapolis. I lived in a group home with over 100 people.

I was nervous at first. I didn't know what to expect. It was really tough living away from home for the first time. I was living at Outreach Center, what you might call a mini-institution. I didn't really like living there. Instead of getting real job training, I went to a sheltered workshop. They "evaluated" me and said that I couldn't get a competitive job because the dexterity in my fingers was not quick enough. They told me "you'll have to stay in the workshop f or the rest of your life."

I hoped I would be able to develop my skills as a child care worker. Instead, my job was to put hooks in straps, hour after hour, all day long. I also sealed thermostat covers in a plastic package. We would work on a line, where one person would put in one part, another person would do something else, and the part would move down the line. I didn't like this work because this wasn't where my expertise was. This work made me feel like I was good for nothing.

Around this time I met my future husband, Dean Steinbring. Dean also lived in Outreach, and worked at Opportunity Workshop. He felt the same way I did about work. Some people liked their jobs, but Dean and I didn't . When we started getting involved with each other, the people at the workshop separated us. We had to work in different rooms. We got married in 1974 and moved into our own apartment.

In 1975, some people from the local Arc came to our workshop to talk about voter registration. We learned about self-advocacy, and met other people who were speaking up for themselves. People at the workshop kept telling us "you'll be here the rest of your lives." They kept pounding this into us. But when I started going to self-advocacy meetings, I learned that I had rights, and that I could stand up for myself. I was tired of being treated like a kid by the workshop.

After 11 years at the workshop, I took some time off and I asked my social worker for an independent evaluation. I learned that I was capable of working in competitive jobs and that I could have worked with children. My social worker thought the workshop should have given me these kinds of jobs a long time ago. I went back to the workshop in the fall, and told them I'd only work if they paid me minimum wage, which was $2.35 per hour. They told me they could only pay me .88 cents per hour. They said they were a rehab facility, and that they were training me to do what I would do in a factory job. I told them I didn't want a factory job. In eleven years, they didn't teach me anything. I told them to go to hell, and quit the workshop. I started devoting my time to ACT, a self-advocacy group I helped found.

Since that time, I think supported employment has made things better, but there are still people being trained for jobs they don't want. Who is this helping? We need to work on changing attitudes, telling people what they are capable of, not what they're not capable of it. We need to make our own decisions.

Gloria Steinbring is a founding member of Advocating Change Together (ACT), a self-advocacy organization in St. Paul, Minnesota.