Check out my sophomore article on Medium.com, entitled “Can You Feel Feminine While Being A Boss Ass Bitch?”
Check out my sophomore article on Medium.com, entitled “Can You Feel Feminine While Being A Boss Ass Bitch?”
Wow, look at that baby-faced newbie attorney!! Today marks ten years of being a member of the Rhode Island State Bar, and I have to say, it makes me pretty nostalgic!
I can’t believe how much has changed over the last few years, and I’m heartbroken to think that I’ll probably never practice law again.
That being said, I’m still so immensely proud of my journey, and I’m so thankful that I got to be part of the criminal defense and civil rights communities, even if it was just for a short while. My heart will always be with both of these causes.
In my first five years of being a Rhode Island attorney, I was able to own, operate and grow a corporation; argue several cases before the Rhode Island Supreme Court; testify numerous times before the Rhode Island Legislature; serve on a Rhode Island Senate Study Commission; be a board member of the ACLU of Rhode Island, the Rhode Island Association for Criminal Defense Lawyers (RIACDL), and the National ACLU Board; be selected for five straight years as a “Rising Star” in Rhode Island criminal defense and appeals; and, most importantly, help (or at least try to help) probably hundreds of people in desperate need of legal assistance.
I can’t begin to count the number of hours I put into my legal career, but I know for certain that it’s paid off immeasurably. The legal profession (and more specifically, criminal defense) gave me LIFE, and I’m so proud of my colleagues and mentors for the unending power and courage they continue to display in their fight towards justice and equality! I’ll always be with you on the frontlines in spirit!
To read more about my journey into and through the legal profession, keep an eye out for my upcoming memoir, From National Champion To Physically Disabled Activist: My Lifelong Struggles With A Diseased Body, And The Lessons It Has Taught Me Along The Way.
By: Katherine Itacy, Esq.
Dated: September 28, 2018
For those of you who don’t know, I used to make my living defending those suspected of, charged with, and/or convicted of a wide array of sex offenses. I represented these (mostly) men sometimes from the moment an allegation is made until the appeal is done and the sex offender classification level is imposed and challenged. On several occasions, I’ve even been around when additional allegations were made against them.
Unless you’re my friend on social media, you may not realize that, as a defense attorney, I almost never made public judgments regarding anyone accused of or charged with any crime—especially if no criminal charges were ever brought. In my opinion, unless I was able to review the alleged evidence and listen to and observe the testimony and demeanor of any and all witnesses, I don’t believe that I have enough information to make a “judgment” as to a person’s guilt or innocence. I’m also well aware as to how a false allegation impacts a person and their family for the rest of their lives.
Lastly, for anyone unaware, I am a staunch advocate for women’s rights, equity among all genders, and the civil rights of every human being on this planet. Despite my ethical obligations to my clients that I zealously advocate on their behalf and defend them to the best of my abilities, I never advocated for the commission of sex offenses; nor have I ever encouraged or engaged in victim blaming.
And I was and remain immensely proud of all of the individuals who came forward during the #MeToo movement with their own experiences with sexual harassment and/or assault. As a feminist and a cisgendered woman, I am intimately aware of the unwanted sexual advances of some cisgendered men. I also understand the shame, embarrassment, and/or fear that many assault victims/attempted assault victims feel when considering whether or not to come forward with their experiences.
In the instance of child victims, I also understand the concept of delayed reporting—that many are threatened with violence to themselves or their families if they tell anyone, or are bribed or induced into silence. Some are too young to realize what’s just happened to them until many years later.
Now, with all of those caveats out of the way, I’d like to take a moment to comment on The Kavanaugh hearings. Or, I should say, the public’s reaction to The Kavanaugh hearings.
I’ve seen Tweets, Facebook and Instagram posts regarding Dr. Ford, Judge Kavanaugh, and the Senate Judiciary hearings taking place on the Hill. I have to say that I was quite disturbed and disappointed as to just how many chose to believe the allegations lodged against the judge, husband, father, and coach, well before Dr. Ford was even sworn under oath. They were absolutely convinced that Judge Kavanaugh was a predatory monster who must be kept off of the Court. Some even cited to Anita Hill’s testimony almost thirty years ago, suggesting that she was the “foremother” of Dr. Ford’s testimony.
Of course, I am all for supporting victims. I am all for exposing the truth regarding any dishonest, unethical, or immoral behaviors or traits of a potential United States Supreme Court Justice. These appointments are for life, and the Court decides the constitutionality of some of the most life-changing, freedom-suppressing, and/or civil rights-depriving laws imposed by cities, states, and the federal government. A lot is at stake when a case is brought before the nine members of the Court, so their fitness for the Court is, of course, of the utmost importance to ascertain.
Being a bleeding-heart liberal, I am not stoked that this President has had the opportunity to impact the laws of our land for decades to come by filling some of the Court’s seats. But I am also, in the deepest recesses of my heart, still a defense attorney. I believe in our Constitution; in the (still-rather-broken-and-unjust) Criminal Justice System, at least its ideal state; in the Rules of Evidence, the presumption of innocence, and the right to confront one’s accusers.
Now, I’m well aware that these hearings are not subjected to the same standard of proof as a criminal case.
But I am appalled by the fact that the American public has taken to the streets (and especially social media) to destroy this man and his family’s reputation and way of life before the allegations even made their way into the light.
I am announcing that I disbelieve Dr. Ford? No. Am I stating that I believe Judge Kavanaugh is innocent of any and all allegations lodged against him? No. I do not believe that I have sufficient facts to come to either of those conclusions.
I’m just so concerned and alarmed by the fact that so many others seem to believe that they had the ability to pass judgment, just by the mere fact that an allegation was made!
Now, in many of these cases, it boils down to the words of the accuser and the accused. Most times, there is no forensic evidence. Many times, there are no witnesses. Often times, especially with delayed reporting, there is no way for the accused to provide an alibi. Unless the allegations are specific as to a time, date, and location, it’s hard to prove you weren’t there. Factors like drugs or alcohol, fuzzy memories, and the perceived or misperceived intentions of both/all parties can convolute things.
But the public opinions surrounding these allegations seem to come from more of a place of “we must believe and support the accuser and destroy and shame the accused” than any evidentiary standard that I’m comfortable living with. I’ve seen the devastation that comes from false accusations, especially when they’re of a sexual nature. The man, even if accused of assaulting someone their own age, is suddenly seen as a sexual predator to all. He suddenly is no longer fit to be around women or children (male or female children, by the way, despite the research that shows that most pedophiles have a specific age and gender preference for their intended victims). He can no longer go to his children’s school or sporting events, never mind coach any of their sports teams.
Now, once again—I am not stating that I disbelieve Dr. Ford. I am just scared about where we, as a country, go from here. I want allegations of sexual harassment and assault to be able to come to the light without any fear of reprisal or revenge or shame brought upon the victim.
But are we really comfortable with trying a person in the court of public opinion?? By way of distorted rumors and emotionally charged Tweets from those without any personal knowledge of the alleged events or regarding those supposedly involved?? Are you really okay with this? Would you be okay if you, your sibling, or your parent were subjected to the same standards we’ve resorted to?
I’m not suggesting that we disbelieve or dishonor or disrespect anyone. But the very thought of someone committing a sex crime (or attempting to commit a sex crime) has resulted in such collective disgust in this country that the person is believed guilty, essentially unable to prove him- or herself innocent. It’s hard enough to prove a negative without having any presumption of innocence afforded to you in the first place.
And this type of allegation never goes away for the accused, even if he is ultimately found not guilty. The allegation and all that accompanies it forever follows this person and his family around. It will impact the person’s ability to get or maintain a job; their ability to participate in community events; to socialize with others; to maintain familial and friendly relationships.
When I started practicing law just about ten years ago now, I was deeply concerned about the emotionally charged policy and rule-making that surrounds alleged sex crimes. Often times, it ignores facts, logic, and rational thinking in favor of being overly cautious and protective of potential victims. Sadly, as I’ve stated publicly and in Rhode Island Senate Judiciary Committee hearings, often times, creating laws or policies based upon emotion and these overly cautious instincts lead to unintended consequences that make society and potential victims less safe, not more safe.
Now…I don’t know what to think. I don’t know where we go from here, when we’re instantaneously passing judgment before hearing any of the alleged evidence or allowing the alleged perpetrator the opportunity to respond.
I’m not criticizing Dr. Ford. I’m criticizing the rest of us. Those who were so quick to choose sides, whether it was on the basis of gender, political affiliation, or the mere subject matter of the allegation. Those who may or may not have used Dr. Ford’s letter and allegation as a political ploy; a weapon to use, if and when decided necessary.
I’m afraid for the rule of law. I’m afraid for us, as a civilized society. I’m afraid that we’re so politically polarized that we’re now willing to throw away our standards and our rule of law in exchange for political gains. And potentially destroy lives in the process.
Where do we go from here? Please—I’d love to know, although I’m terrified of the answer.
It’s here, folks! Click below to start listening to the extended, extra-special mega episode of the “Hear Me Roar” podcast, “Female Business Owners: The Benefits, Pitfalls and Struggles Women Face When Running Their Own Business”! The episode features the podcast’s very first guest, Angie Bonin, of Angelina Rose Photography! Kate had an amazing time chatting with Angie about […]
By: Katherine Itacy, Esq.
Dated: August 14, 2018
Last Friday marked 25 years on the Supreme Court for the Notorious RBG!! Happy Silver Anniversary, Justice Ginsburg!
Well before #NotoriousRBG became a thing, I was a huge Ruth Bader Ginsburg fan.
Not only is she an 85-year-old badass, who is almost certainly more physically fit than I am, but she’s a legal pioneer of all sorts!
In 1956, she was one of only nine women enrolled in Harvard Law School. She was one of only two women on the prestigious Harvard Law Review in 1957, and, after transferring to Columbia Law School in order to stay with her husband (who’d just graduated from Harvard Law and gotten a job in New York), she again made Law Review. A year later, she tied for first in her law school class!
In 1963, she was the second woman ever to teach at Rutgers School of Law full-time. Nine years later, she became the very first woman to obtain tenure as a law professor at Cornell. That same year, she co-founded the ACLU’s Women’s Rights Project. In 1993, she became the second female Supreme Court Justice ever (following Sandra Day O’Connor’s nomination in 1981). And for well over a decade, she has been writing fierce, poignant, woke dissents in opinions issued by the now mostly conservative Supreme Court.
She has such an IDGAF attitude, but in such a dignified, informed, intelligent way. A kindred spirit of mine, to be sure! She’s who I aspire to be. She was a ride-or-die for her beloved husband, and was able to handle being a newlywed, a new mommy and a female law student in the predominantly male-attended Harvard Law School, all at the same time! And while serving on the Court with mostly men, she’s managed to stay sharp, poignant and unrelenting, despite the fact that she endured and overcame two different types of cancer!
She also approached her efforts towards gender equity by being incredibly strategic. Justice Ginsburg took the approach of trying to make small, incremental changes, so that the country could catch up with the idea of gender equity/equality before larger legal opinions/proclamations were issued.
But just because Justice Ginsburg took a “slow and steady wins the race” approach doesn’t mean she’s a pushover or has given up on her end goal. One of her most famous (and badass) quotes was in response to the question “When will there be enough women on the Supreme Court?” Her response? “When there are nine” (i.e., when all of the justices are female!).
I’m such a fangirl, I have a RBG tank top, two pins (one with her face and her famous collar, and the other, a pin of the Supreme Court building, with “When there are nine” displayed across it). I also devoured the book, Notorious RBG: The Life and Times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and watched one of the first screenings of her documentary, “RBG.”
I never really had any aspiration to be a Supreme Court Justice, but this woman, as a human being, a civil rights activist and a legal mastermind, embodies all that I wish to be. And four years ago, when I was sworn in to the Supreme Court Bar, a mere ten feet or so away from Justice Ginsburg, my heart swelled. Even though I’ll never argue a case before her, the induction somehow made me just a bit closer to my idol!
Thankfully, it’s rumored that she wants to stay on the Court until she’s 90, which will hopefully be in the middle of a more sane, rational, learned and progressive Leader of the Free World’s first presidential term. If wishes make it so, please, please hang in there, RBG! At least until 45 is out and a more inclusive, diverse, respectful, hard-working, humble, well-intentioned and well-informed government is firmly in place! We need you! Like never before!
If you haven’t read Notorious RBG or seen “RBG” yet, please do so, immediately! Whether you’re male, female or gender non-conforming; whether you’re in the legal profession or not; and whatever your political leaning is, you will be inspired by this incredible woman. Hell, she was BFFs with now-deceased Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia. The love for this woman is universal, and transcends all. So go forth and bow before The Notorious RBG. We’re all better off for her efforts and for her existence.
Happy Anniversary, Justice Ginsburg!! Here’s to you and your ever-lasting vitality!
If you have any thoughts or insights on this post, you can let me know by leaving a comment below, or reaching out to me via Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, Tumblr, Google+ or Twitter. Feedback and thoughtful, respectful comments are always encouraged!
By: Katherine Itacy, Esq.
Dated: January 24, 2018
Both of my parents have demonstrated an obscene work ethic my entire life. And sure, they came right out and told me and my brother to work hard in school and for the things we wanted, but I think that I learned subconsciously to mimic their true workhorse style.
You know how they say: “Work smart, not hard?” Well…that lesson was never taught in our house…. Instead, Mom and Dad just wanted us to take pride in the efforts we put into whatever we did. You give it your 100% best efforts, and you don’t worry about the rest.
I get (or got) this perverse high from working nonstop at full tilt, and it came on quickly in my early teens. As I was getting better at track (and training more and more each passing year), I was also working at Dunkin’ Donuts during weekends and summers. The manager there learned fast that she could use my “Work the hardest you can, even at your own expense” mantra to the store’s advantage. As a young teen, she had me working in the kitchen with the full-time bakers. Later, she had me driving the delivery trucks to their other stores, and opening one of the stores at 5 AM. At the same time, my coworkers learned to let me pick up the slack while they took extra smoke breaks and stole my tips.
You’d think I would’ve learned to ease up the pace a bit, but nope! Not me! It made me proud to come home exhausted from my shift, with my feet aching and my hair and skin smelling like stale coffee grinds and donut grease (despite numerous attempts in the shower to eradicate the smells).
My work ethic only increased after that, to the point where I was running my own law firm, on three different boards of directors, doing pro bono legal work for the RI ACLU and a few select clients, testifying at the RI State House on various criminal justice and civil rights bills, volunteering for a friend’s mayoral campaign, representing a nonprofit on a RI Senate Study Commission and coaching high school track throwers. My obsession with doing my absolute best for all of these clients and entities led me to neglect my diabetes and caused me to have almost forty surgeries and procedures over a four-year timespan.
Even the Deputy Defender at my last job told me (half-jokingly) during my job interview that she’d only come down to the branch office for my interview “to see how tired you are from everything you’ve been doing!”
Looking back on it now, none of it was for fame, accolades or a sense of power. And upon deeper reflection, none of those things were ever praised in my childhood home. The only goal that my parents ever encouraged us to pursue (besides attaining higher education and the pursuit of happiness) was to work hard at whatever we chose to do in life. There were no five-year or ten-year plans in place. We weren’t raised to be doctors or lawyers. They didn’t push us to go to Harvard or Yale. They wanted us to find our own way, and to find our own version of happiness.
Turns out: None of my major life decisions were prefaced with much premeditation.
As contradicting as it sounds, I never plotted out what sport I hoped I’d excel at, or what college I’d work hard to get into, and yet, once I made the decisions, I worked my ass off to give my absolute best to the task at hand. I stumbled upon throwing and had no idea that I’d be good at it. Same with law school! I only considered it after my diabetes precluded me from becoming a federal law enforcement field agent. And the only reason why I decided to run my own firm is because I’d left a few other incompatible associate/partner positions and a friend told me that he’d mentor me through opening my practice.
I have never dreamt of running for public office, obtaining a judgeship or becoming a senior partner at some huge law firm. In fact, I’ve always preferred working behind the scenes. Coming out of law school, I would’ve been perfectly content being a worker bee, doing the grunt work while others received the prestige. I hate politics (personal and professional), and the only thoughts I’d had regarding political positions were that it’d be great to be an adviser and help shape public policy/law without having to do all the hand-holding and deal-making.
I was in my glory in both college and law school, taking up to 20 credits a semester, getting a double major and a minor at Penn State while spending 2-3 school days per week on the road for track meets; doing research for three different law school professors on top of doing internships and writing a 100-page paper on the criminal justice system (when my writing requirement only required that I write 10 pages, if memory serves correct). I didn’t even realize that I was double majoring, or was earning a minor as well. Hell, I was three classes away from a second minor in African and African-American Studies!
It all made me feel useful. It made my life feel purposeful. I felt like I was contributing; like I was soaking up as much knowledge and guidance as I possibly could. Like I was helping as many clients as I could possibly help.
And while I have essentially stumbled upon every accomplishment and accolade I’ve earned since high school, and had no prior plans for any of the educational, professional or activism decisions I’ve made since then, it has somehow all felt like it was meant to be. I can’t imagine what my life would’ve been like, had I not been a hammer thrower or a criminal defense attorney.
If all of this was somehow preordained for me to stumble upon, what am I supposed to believe my purpose is now? I feel so confident that I’m supposed to be practicing criminal defense, representing indigent clients, doing pro bono work and advocating for justice and equity for all. I know I had a skill at legal research and writing. Yet now, I can’t even understand or analyze a single legal case. I’m in so much pain these days, I’m mind-numbingly laid up in bed, with every other thought being: “It hurts so bad!!!”
Almost a year ago now, I came to the heart-wrenching conclusion that I could no longer perform my job duties, and I immediately notified my employer. Just about one of the most soul-crushing things I’ve ever had to admit to myself or others. This workhorse has been put out to pasture. My heart and my soul (and my ego) want to be able to continue contributing to society. My mind and my body have taken that purpose away from me, and it is still something that I am adjusting to. Why put a purposeful soul into a defective body?
Best believe, if I could work, I would. I’ve been working incessantly since I was fourteen years old. I was able to earn a good living running my own law firm, starting at the age of twenty-five, in the midst of a tough economy and an even tougher area of law to turn a profit. I have no qualms about doing hard, thankless work; I’ve sure done it before. In fact, I’ve done a helluva lot of free work, and been more than happy to do it!
The workhorse in me sure isn’t happy about her crap body forcing her to retire. Quite honestly, being trapped in this body is one of the cruelest punishments I could ever receive. It’s stifling my spirit. I’m trying to stay optimistic that life will guide me to stumble into whatever’s meant for me next, but in the meantime, I need to conserve my energy in order to make it through most days. Time to put that workhorse spirit into adjusting to my new quality of life – goodness knows, finding peace with this reality will be the hardest work I’ll have done yet!
By: Katherine Itacy, Esq.
Dated: December 12, 2017
I grew up thinking that I had fatefully (and narrowly) escaped paralysis. As my mother has relayed to me time and time again, in early 1988, she noticed that I was complaining of lower back pain. Since I had been born with Spina Bifida and a lipoma near my lumbar spine, she knew to immediately get me to a neurosurgeon. After receiving nonchalant (and incredibly sexist) advice from one Rhode Island surgeon to wait to operate so that I could feel confident to wear a bikini (scar-free) when I got older, she sought a second opinion at Boston Children’s Hospital.
That talented and intelligent neurosurgeon explained to my parents that the baseball-sized tumor had wrapped around my spinal cord and was pulling on it, similar to the tension felt when one pulls the cord on a set of window blinds. He warned them that the lipoma needed to be removed immediately, before the tumor snapped the cord and left me paralyzed. I had surgery in March of 1988, at the ripe old age of four, and re-learned how to walk. We followed up with yearly MRIs until I was twelve years old, since there were remnants of the tumor that were too close to the cord to safely remove.
Except for some swelling and lower back pain when I exercised, I really didn’t worry too much about the tumor after that. Sure, I didn’t feel confident to wear a bikini in public, since the surgeon had to pack my lumbar region during surgery in order to reinforce my back; but then again, I also didn’t have to spend from age four on in a wheelchair. I considered myself pretty fortunate, bikini-clad or not.
As I’ve previously mentioned, I’ve had a rough go of it with my diabetes since my early 20s. I’ve had dozens of surgeries to save what’s left of my vision, to maintain some use of my fingers and hands, and to keep my left breast from being completely taken over by large, benign tumors. The eye surgeries have messed with my depth perception, almost completely obscured my peripheral vision, and made it near impossible to drive at night.
I was adjusting to my diabetic-related complications. I even gave up my law practice and moved myself and my two miniature Shar Peis clear across the country to start a new, more balanced life. For the first year in Texas, I lost weight, was able to exercise almost every day, and got most of my diabetic-related conditions under control.
Then the proverbial ish hit the fan.
After feeling the sensation of electric shocks to the base of my spine, I received news that the 1988 surgery had caused scar tissue to form inside a sac of nerves below my lumbar spine. The scar tissue had caused the floating nerve roots to clump together, and to adhere to the wall of the sac. The condition is called adhesive arachnoiditis, and it is incurable and inoperable. All of the sudden, I am once again at risk of paralysis. I could also develop dementia at any time due to the disorder.
For the last two years, this condition has caused me debilitating pain in my lower back, legs and feet; it has caused dysfunction to my bowel, bladder and sex organs. It has caused persistent, seizure-like muscle spasms all over my body. Steroid injections, epidurals, radio-frequency nerve ablations, narcotic drugs and a trial run of a spinal cord stimulator have all failed to alleviate the pain. I am on the maximum allotted dosages of Lyrica and Cymbalta to address the nerve pain, and they barely scratch the surface.
My work at the Office of the Federal Public Defender in southwestern Texas was to conduct legal research, provide trial-related advice, draft legal court filings and give presentations regarding criminal defense issues to the Assistant Federal Defenders in the District, as well as to the court-appointed attorneys in the area. I loved my work. I was good at my job. But once I developed the arachnoiditis, everything fell apart.
Soon after the diagnosis, the pain got so intense that I could no longer concentrate on my work. Every few seconds, my brain would redirect its attention to the pain in my body. I couldn’t sit, stand or walk for any meaningful period of time. A few months in, after I’d had to take days off or ask to work from my bed at home, a colleague of mine brought in a camping cot for me to use in the office. Even that wasn’t enough, because I found myself unable to read any caselaw or write any court filings. I couldn’t do my job. I couldn’t even think like a lawyer anymore.
I got so angry at my body. What kind of sick joke was this? I get saved from paralysis at age four, only to find my out nearly thirty years later that the surgery that had saved me from the paralysis has led to a condition that puts me at risk of paralysis? Was I living in my own version of Sliding Doors? Did it not matter whether I had the original surgery or not, since it would all still lead to the same result in the end? Or was I only meant to have mobility in my youth, so that I could play sports and earn a college scholarship?
Was it not enough that my diabetes was aggressively attacking half of my body parts? Did I do something so heinous in a past life that I deserved to suffer so much in this one?
I’d like to consider myself a pretty tough, resilient chick. I’ve endured well over forty surgeries over the last ten years and still managed to pursue a career that gave my life meaning. I found what I believed to be my calling in life. I was helping to change lives for the better. I had joined the boards of nonprofits that did incredible work to better society. I was surrounded by colleagues and mentors who I admired and applauded for their lengthy careers doing what I hoped to mimic, even in part. I was sopping up the knowledge and experience of others, and I loved it. And then I lost it all.
I had to quit my job. I had to stop practicing law. I can’t even think of rejoining any nonprofit boards or starting back up with any volunteer work. Besides no longer being able to read and analyze caselaw or draft any legal filings, I have to save all of my remaining energy on visiting the vast number of doctors that I need to see in order to maintain my health. So now I spend most days laid up in bed, falling asleep for 3-5 hours during the day due to my meds and/or the pain. Some days, it’s too painful to stay awake.
I’ve gone from being an elite athlete to being unable to even go for walks. I’ve gone from running a successful, meaningful law practice and being on the board of three amazing nonprofits to being unable to work in any capacity. What once identified me (athlete, activist, criminal defense attorney) is now only referred to in the past tense.
What should I make of all this? I’m not trying to throw myself a pity party, but I’m having a hard time adjusting to the screeching stop of almost everything that I both loved to do and was good at. I know that a lot of people have it worse than me. I know that I should consider myself lucky to have experienced all that I have at my age. But I’m pissed.
It’s not really even about my sudden lack of mobility or the fact that apparently nothing can provide me with consistent, significant pain relief. I’m more pissed about being stopped from continuing to pursue my calling in life, and from being an activist for issues that are in desperate need of reform. Believe me – I know that far more talented and qualified people have already picked up my slack, and that so many more will follow in my absence. I’m not diluted enough to think I’m irreplaceable, or that I’ve even made more than a few drops in the ocean of change that my peers and mentors have already made to the causes I love so much. But is this really it for me? Is this all that I will contribute to the world? I had a small taste of activism, and I want more.
I have no idea what’s waiting for me in the future. My condition could plateau for a while, or it could take a drastic, sharp turn for the worse. I could become paralyzed and/or develop dementia at any time now, and if I lose the only remaining piece of my identity (my mind), there’ll really be no more “me” left.
I’m trying to come to terms with all of this. The main reason why I want to write my book now is because I need to get it all out while my mind is still somewhat intact. I feel like maybe the things that I’ve been through in my life might be able to lessen someone else’s pain, or at least make them feel like they’re not alone in their struggles. I have to get it all out while I still can. Maybe if I do, it can serve as some smaller version of activism. Maybe then, I won’t feel like my life’s purpose stopped before I even hit 35.
I guess only time will tell.
My name is Katherine (Johnston) Itacy, and welcome to my site! I intend to use this site to explain who I am, the journey I’ve been on, and the lessons I’ve learned along the way.
Born and raised in Warwick, Rhode Island, I am a 29+ year-long Type I Diabetic who threw the 20-pound weight and hammer throw in high school and college. After setting both state and national high school records, winning eight national high school championships and competing in the 2000 World Junior Track and Field Championship in Santiago, Chile, I earned an athletic scholarship to Penn State.
Later, I earned an academic scholarship to Roger Williams University School of Law. I loved law school; I joined both the moot court board and the trial team, conducted research for several professors and a private attorney, and graduated fourth in my class. I spent a year working for a private criminal defense attorney before pairing up with a classmate in his practice, and eventually, going out on my own. I spent five years running my own law firm in Rhode Island and Massachusetts, focusing on pre-trial, trial and appellate work for criminal defendants, and hearings and appeals for convicted sex offenders. I joined the Rhode Island and National ACLU board of directors, as well as the Rhode Island Association for Criminal Defense Lawyers board of directors, and did pro bono work for both the ACLU and for indigent criminal defendants.
Running my criminal defense law firm was the most rewarding experience I have ever had, but it took its toll on my diabetes. During four of the five years I ran the practice, I underwent over three dozen surgeries. Diabetes had attacked my eyes, my hands, and the nerves in my elbows and wrists.
In November of 2014, I took a job in Del Rio, Texas, as a legal research and writing specialist for the Federal Public Defender’s Office for the Western District of Texas. I loved my work there, but my health began to deteriorate further, to the point that I could no longer perform my job responsibilities. I developed an incurable spinal nerve pain disorder called adhesive arachnoiditis, as a result of a 1988 lipoma/tethered spinal cord surgery. The diabetes has also caused benign tumors to develop in my breasts, and has damaged the nerves in my lower body.
For the last 22 months, I have been on a mind-numbing journey to find adequate health care, including a sufficient drug protocol to help alleviate my daily pain. I have also had to adjust to my new quality of life, and to accept the fact that I can no longer pursue my life’s calling.
I hope that you can use this blog site (as well as the book I am writing) as a resource. I will be using both the site and the book to document my life’s journey, and to share some of the life lessons I have learned from living in a diseased body. My poor health has motivated me to live the fullest life possible, but I have days (as I am sure that many physically disabled persons do) when I feel as if the medical system and my body have failed me. We all need an avenue to vent our frustrations, and to feel as if we are understood. I hope you will find that you can do those things here.
I look forward to hearing from some of you as to what struggles you have faced with your health and with the medical system in America. We all need emotional support from time to time, and I am confident that we can find that in one another. I wish you all good health, and a full, happy life!