The U.S. International Council on Disabilities Fundraising Virtual Gala on December 3rd

Join USICD’s Virtual Gala on December 3, 2026 — Admission Is Free!

On December 3, the International Day of Persons with Disabilities, the United States International Council on Disabilities (USICD) will hold its annual fundraising gala. I hope you will join us.

It’s virtual. It’s free. You don’t have to dress up, leave your house, or even put on shoes. And while donations will be greatly appreciated, they are not required to attend.

But there is a serious reason for this celebration.

For more than 35 years, USICD has worked to advance the rights of people with disabilities around the world. We have advocated for policies that promote inclusion, strengthened international partnerships, and insisted that people with disabilities have a seat at the tables where decisions affecting their lives are made.

That work is more important than ever.

Around the world, people with disabilities are confronting enormous challenges. Wars, natural disasters, shrinking humanitarian resources, and threats to established civil rights are putting hard-won progress at risk. Too often, people with disabilities are the last to receive assistance and the first to be forgotten when resources become scarce.

USICD is determined to make sure that doesn’t happen.

We are also committed to preparing the next generation of disability leaders. Those of us who fought for the Americans with Disabilities Act and other landmark protections are getting older. Our accomplishments mean little if we fail to prepare younger people with disabilities to defend those rights, expand opportunities, and lead the next battles.

I recently agreed to serve as USICD’s Interim Executive Director through the end of this year. I previously served as its President for eight years. I came back because I believe this organization is too important to lose.

At 82, I am not interested in watching decades of progress unravel.

An Evening to Celebrate Extraordinary Advocates

Our December 3 gala will honor two remarkable individuals whose contributions to disability rights deserve recognition.

Ambassador Donald Steinberg will receive the prestigious Dole-Harkin Award. Throughout his career in diplomacy and international development, Ambassador Steinberg has championed the inclusion of people with disabilities in humanitarian assistance, peacebuilding, and international policy.

Eric Rosenthal, founder of Disability Rights International, will receive USICD’s International Advocate Award. His decades of work exposing abuse, challenging institutionalization, and defending the human rights of people with disabilities have changed lives around the world.

We will also welcome filmmaker Cameron S. Mitchell, along with a special prerecorded video featuring RJ Mitte.

This will be an opportunity to celebrate people who didn’t simply talk about disability rights. They did something about them.

Why We Need Your Support

USICD is facing serious financial challenges. We need resources to rebuild our staff, sustain our international advocacy, strengthen partnerships, and invest in young disability leaders.

We cannot accomplish those goals on goodwill alone.

We need people who believe disability rights are human rights. We need organizations willing to invest in the next generation. And we need supporters who understand that progress can disappear when no one is there to defend it.

If you can make a donation, please do. Whether it is $10, $50, $100, or more, your contribution will help USICD continue its work.

If you cannot contribute financially, please attend. Invite your friends. Share this invitation. Help us expand the circle of people who understand why disability rights matter.

Join Us!

Thursday, December 3, 2026

Time: 6:00–7:30 p.m. Eastern Time

Location: Wherever you are! This is a virtual event.

Tickets: FREE. Donations: Appreciated.

Register or become a sponsor: https://usicd.org/gala

Become a USICD member: https://usicd.org/membership

Questions or sponsorship information: aedmorrissey@usicd.org

I have spent much of my life working to change laws, policies, and attitudes toward people with disabilities. I know what determined people can accomplish when they work together.

I also know what happens when we become complacent.

Disability rights were never handed to us. People fought for them. Now we have to make sure there are people ready and able to fight for them tomorrow.

Join us on December 3. Celebrate what we’ve accomplished. Help us protect what we’ve won. And help us build what comes next.

Pat Morrissey
Interim Executive Director
United States International Council on Disabilities

To the New Congress: Start Where We Can Agree

An Open Letter to Every Newly Elected Member of Congress

Congratulations on your election. Whether you are a Republican or a Democrat, whether you won by a landslide or a handful of votes, the voters have given you an extraordinary responsibility: to govern.

Not just to win arguments. Not just to defeat the other party. Not just to prepare for the next election.

To govern.

I spent nearly 20 years working for Republican members of Congress. I participated in the development of legislation that changed the lives of millions of Americans with disabilities. I learned something during those years that seems increasingly forgotten in Washington: Republicans and Democrats can disagree profoundly about many things and still work together to accomplish something important.

The Americans with Disabilities Act did not become law because everyone agreed on everything. Neither did the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act or the legislation that expanded access to assistive technology. They became law because members of Congress recognized that some issues were too important to be held hostage to partisan differences.

I am 82 years old. I have cerebral palsy. I have spent much of my professional life working to expand opportunities for people with disabilities. I have seen what Congress can accomplish when its members decide that getting something done matters more than getting credit for it.

So I have a suggestion for the newly elected Congress.

Start with disability policy.

There are millions of Americans with disabilities living in Republican households, Democratic households, and households that want nothing to do with either party. Disability does not check voter registration cards. It crosses every geographic, economic, racial, and political boundary.

And it touches nearly every family, whether through a child born with a disability, a veteran returning home with an injury, an aging parent, or an unexpected illness or accident.

Here are four places where Congress could begin.

1. Restore Medicaid Funding

Medicaid is not simply a health insurance program. For millions of Americans with disabilities, it is the foundation of independent living.

It pays for services that allow people to get out of bed, get dressed, work, attend school, participate in their communities, and live in their own homes rather than institutions.

When Medicaid funding is cut, the consequences do not disappear. They are transferred to families, state governments, hospitals, and ultimately taxpayers. Parents leave jobs to provide care. People lose independence. Families confront choices no family should have to make.

Congress should revisit and reverse reductions that threaten access to essential disability services.

This is not simply a question of spending. It is a question of what kind of life we believe Americans with disabilities should be able to live.

2. Put the Right to Community Living Into Federal Law

For decades, federal disability policy has moved toward a fundamental principle: people with disabilities should have the opportunity to live and receive services in the most integrated setting appropriate to their needs.

That principle should not depend on the interpretation of one administration, one federal agency, or one court.

Congress should codify a clear, enforceable obligation to provide services in the most integrated, least restrictive appropriate setting, consistent with individual needs and choices.

People should not have to surrender their independence simply because they need assistance with daily living.

And families should not have to fight the same battles generation after generation to keep their loved ones out of institutions.

3. Authorize a National Museum of Disability History and Culture

America has museums dedicated to its wars, presidents, scientific achievements, cultures, and struggles for civil rights.

Yet the history of more than 60 million Americans with disabilities remains largely invisible in our national story.

The disability rights movement helped change our laws, workplaces, schools, transportation systems, public buildings, and understanding of citizenship. Its leaders organized, protested, negotiated, litigated, and persuaded. Their achievements deserve to be preserved and understood.

Congress should authorize the process for establishing a National Museum of Disability History and Culture, with the goal of creating a permanent presence on the National Mall.

This is not about celebrating one political party. It is about telling an American story of struggle, innovation, persistence, and progress.

Our history belongs to the nation. It should not disappear as the generation that made it passes away.

4. Put People With Disabilities at the Tables Where Decisions Are Made

We have spent decades talking about including people with disabilities. It is time to make that inclusion meaningful.

Congress should authorize incentive grants to states, local governments, and community organizations that demonstrate meaningful participation by people with disabilities in planning, policymaking, and decision-making.

That includes decisions about housing, transportation, education, employment, health care, emergency preparedness, disaster response, and community reconstruction.

People with disabilities should not be invited into the room after decisions have been made. They should be at the table when problems are defined, priorities established, resources allocated, and solutions designed.

And participation should mean more than having a name on an advisory committee. It should mean influence, authority, accessibility, and accountability.

Nothing about us without us must become more than a slogan. It must become standard operating procedure.

Four Issues. One Opportunity.

I am not suggesting these proposals will be easy. There will be disagreements over costs, federal and state responsibilities, implementation, and priorities. Those disagreements are legitimate. They deserve serious debate.

But disagreement is not an excuse for paralysis.

Members of Congress do not have to abandon their principles to find common ground. They have to be willing to listen, negotiate, compromise, and occasionally let someone from the other party share the credit.

That is not weakness. That is governing.

I have lived long enough to remember when bipartisan legislation was an accomplishment members proudly took home to their constituents. I have also lived long enough to see how easily political differences can become excuses for doing nothing.

The newly elected members of Congress have an opportunity to change that pattern.

Start with four concrete disability policy proposals. Hold bipartisan hearings. Invite people with disabilities and their families to testify. Ask governors, service providers, employers, educators, and community leaders what works and what does not. Develop legislation that can command support across party lines.

Then pass it.

The measure of a successful Congress should not be how many political battles its members win. It should be how many problems they solve.

To every newly elected member of Congress: You asked the American people to trust you with the responsibility of governing. Now show them what that trust can accomplish.

People with disabilities are not asking Congress to agree on everything.

We are asking Congress to find something important enough to work on together.

Here are four places to start.

Being Heumann: Judy Knew That Power was Meant to Be Shared

Thanks to my friend, Dr. Raphael with the Center on Disability Studies at the University of Hawaii, I had the privilege of holding an advance screening of Being Heumann, the film about Judy Heumann’s extraordinary life. When the film was over, I felt inspired, emotionally drained, and exhausted. It is a powerful film. But then, Judy was a powerful woman.

I knew Judy for 40 years. We worked together, sometimes agreed, sometimes disagreed, and always shared a fundamental conviction: people with disabilities belong everywhere decisions are made about their lives.

The film captures Judy’s determination, her extraordinary ability to organize people, and her refusal to accept the notion that people with disabilities should be grateful for whatever society was willing to give them.

But what struck me most was something that I believe distinguished Judy from many other leaders: She understood that real power comes not simply from having it, but from sharing it.

Judy was a human Rolodex before anyone dreamed of putting a contact list on a cell phone. She knew everybody. More importantly, she remembered everybody. She knew their strengths, their weaknesses, their connections, and what they might contribute to advancing disability rights.

She understood something that many political leaders never learn: not everyone has to march in the street, testify before Congress, or command a microphone to make a difference.

Some people could organize. Some could write. Some could raise money. Some could open doors. Some could persuade an elected official. Others could make a phone call at exactly the right moment.

And some could simply wait.

Judy understood that even waiting someone out could be a strategy. Not every battle had to be won today. Sometimes the smartest thing was to keep the pressure on, maintain relationships, build alliances, and wait until the political circumstances changed. Patience was not surrender. It was another weapon in her arsenal.

She was relentless, but she was also strategic.

I spent nearly 20 years working on Capitol Hill, helping shape disability legislation, including the Americans with Disabilities Act. I understood the importance of votes, committee hearings, negotiations, and political compromise. Judy understood those things, too. But she brought something else to the table: the organized voices of people whose lives would be changed by those decisions.

And she made certain those voices could not be ignored.

Judy could be demanding. She could be impatient. She could drive people crazy. I suspect she would have considered that last observation a compliment.

But she was also willing to learn. She came to understand that leadership was not about being the only person with influence. It was about helping others acquire influence of their own.

That is an extraordinary lesson, particularly today.

Too many organizations and movements become dependent on a handful of recognizable leaders. Too much energy goes into protecting positions, controlling decisions, and determining who gets credit. Judy certainly knew how to use her own considerable influence, but she also understood the necessity of building a movement that was bigger than any one person.

Her Rolodex was not simply a collection of names. It was a network of possibilities.

The film also reminds us that progress was neither inevitable nor easy. Rights that seem obvious today were won through confrontation, political maneuvering, personal sacrifice, and an enormous amount of persistence. People put their bodies, reputations, careers, and relationships on the line.

Watching that history unfold was exhausting because I remember how hard so much of it was. And because I know how much of that work remains unfinished.

Judy is gone. So are many others who helped build the modern disability rights movement. We cannot assume that their accomplishments will survive simply because they were once written into law.

We are already seeing how quickly hard-won protections can be challenged, weakened, or reinterpreted.

That makes the lessons of Judy’s life particularly urgent.

We need people who are willing to fight. We need people who understand how government works. We need people who know when to compromise and when to refuse. We need people who can bring together individuals who don’t particularly like one another but who recognize that they share a common objective.

And we need leaders who are not afraid to share power.

I have spent much of my life working inside government while Judy spent much of hers pushing government from the outside. Both approaches were necessary. Neither could have accomplished as much alone.

That is another lesson worth remembering. A successful movement needs insiders and outsiders, agitators and negotiators, impatient activists and patient strategists. Judy understood that there was a place for all of them.

I hope everyone who sees Being Heumann comes away appreciating Judy’s courage and determination. But I hope they see something more.

Judy did not simply want to change laws. She wanted to change who had the power to make them.

And she understood that the next generation had to be prepared to exercise that power.

For me, the film was more than a tribute to a remarkable woman I knew for four decades. It was a reminder of what a determined group of people can accomplish when they refuse to accept exclusion as inevitable.

It was also a warning.

History does not protect itself. Rights do not defend themselves. And movements do not survive on memories of great leaders.

We honor Judy best not by putting her on a pedestal, but by doing what she did: finding people, recognizing what they can contribute, bringing them into the fight, and giving them the opportunity to lead.

Judy knew that everyone had something to offer.

The question for the rest of us is whether we are smart enough to recognize it — and generous enough to share the power to make it happen.

 

History Doesn’t Preserve Itself.We Have to Decide if It Matters

Recently on Facebook, Senator Bill Frist shared a fascinating account of a Native American community that thrived in Tennessee’s Harpeth River Valley 1,000 years ago.

Think about that. A thousand years ago, people were building communities, raising families, developing traditions, solving problems, and creating a culture. They had stories worth telling. Today, we are still discovering who they were and how they lived.

Frist’s account made me think about another history that is in danger of being lost — the history of Americans with disabilities.

For generations, people with disabilities were hidden away, institutionalized, excluded from schools, denied employment, and treated as objects of charity rather than people with rights. But that is only part of our history.

There is another story. One of extraordinary courage, ingenuity, determination, and sometimes outrageous defiance. People with disabilities organized, protested, challenged laws, changed public attitudes, and demanded the right to participate fully in American life.

I was privileged to participate, along with Senator Frist and others in some of that history, particularly the development of federal disability rights legislation. I knew many of the people who made it happen. Some are gone. Others, like me, are getting old. Our memories, documents, arguments, victories, disappointments, and even our mistakes are part of America’s history.

And much of that history is disappearing before anyone bothers to preserve it.

That is why I am working with others to establish a National Museum of Disability History and Culture on the National Mall.

Not a museum about what society did for people with disabilities, but about what people with disabilities did for America.

Our contributions to civil rights, education, technology, transportation, employment, architecture, and community life have changed this country for everyone.

A thousand years from now, what will people know about us? Will they have to piece together our lives from fragments? Or will we have had the wisdom to preserve our history while the people who made it are still here to tell it?

We rightly devote resources to discovering and preserving the lives of people who lived a thousand years ago.

Surely we can find the will to preserve the history being made in our own lifetimes.

History doesn’t belong only to the powerful, the famous, or the people who could climb the stairs to enter the buildings where decisions were made.

It belongs to all of us.

And it deserves a museum.

Patricia Morrissey

Chair, Friends of the National Museum of Disability History and Culture

Funding for Human Rights Orgaizations in America Is Vital

American philanthropy has invested millions of dollars in advancing human rights worldwide to help people with disabilities, women, children, and others whose rights have been denied or ignored. It has supported organizations fighting discrimination, promoting inclusion, and holding governments accountable.

That is money well spent.

But I have a question for America’s major foundations and other entities that support human rights work: What about funding human rights organizations here at home, especially American organizations working to advance human rights internationally?

As I engage in conversations with human rights nonprofits in America, one thing is clear—most are struggling financially. This is verified in a 2026 report by the Center for Effective Philanthropy (cep.org). Sixty-six percent of CEOs of nonprofits report concern about financial stability; 30 percent report reduced staff size; 36 percent report ending 2024 with an operating deficit; 52 percent had three months or less cash on hand.

I have spent much of my professional life working to advance the rights of people with disabilities. I worked in Congress over a 20-year period, helping develop legislation including the Americans with Disabilities Act. I later served as Commissioner of the federal Administration on Developmental Disabilities in the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. Today, at 82, I am serving as Interim Executive Director of the United States International Council on Disabilities (USICD).

I have watched disability rights move from the margins of public policy into the mainstream. I have also watched how quickly progress can be threatened when organizations lose the resources to defend those rights.

Rights do not protect themselves. Laws do not implement themselves. And good intentions do not pay the salaries of people who organize, educate, train, and advocate in the human rights arena.

Someone has to do the work.

For more than 35 years, USICD has worked to advance disability rights internationally, build relationships among advocates and governments, and promote the participation of people with disabilities in decisions affecting their lives.

This work is not limited to what happens overseas. Decisions made in Washington influence international development, responses to conflicts, humanitarian assistance, and the treatment of people with disabilities around the world.

American disability organizations have knowledge and experience that can help shape those activities. The Americans with Disabilities Act was the catalyst for the UN Convention on the Rights of People with Disabilities and the framework for training and advocacy that followed. Philanthropy underwrote this work enthusiastically as well as governments.

 In the past, USAID or the State Department funded human rights work. That is not the case currently.

Philanthropy, therefore, is vital. But consider what is happening in philanthropy itself.

Wellspring Philanthropic Fund, which has supported human rights and social justice organizations for 25 years, is completing its grant making commitments in 2026 and closing in early 2027.

Wellspring deserves recognition for its contributions. But its departure raises a serious question: Who will help sustain the organizations and movements that depend on long-term philanthropic investment?

I would like to see other major foundations, including those that have traditionally concentrated on international human rights, take a hard look at the American organizations whose work supports those same goals.

This is not an argument for taking money away from human rights organizations overseas. Quite the opposite. We need strong organizations in every country, including our own. We need partnerships that allow advocates to learn from one another, work together, and hold governments accountable.

Nor is this simply about keeping nonprofit organizations alive. Some organizations will close. Others will change. That is inevitable.

The real question is whether we are prepared to lose the experience, relationships, institutional knowledge, policy templates, and leadership that have taken decades to develop.

Once those resources disappear, rebuilding them will not be easy or cheap.

I am particularly concerned about the next generation of disability rights leaders.

Young people with disabilities need more than encouragement. They need opportunities to learn how government works, participate in policy decisions, build international relationships, and assume leadership positions. They need experienced advocates willing to mentor them and organizations capable of opening doors. Many of those are here.

Who will provide those opportunities if the organizations doing this work cannot afford staff? Nonprofit employees cannot simply volunteer their way through financial crises. Foundations employ professionals, invest in infrastructure, and plan for their own institutional futures. The organizations they support need those same things.

I respectfully ask major foundations to consider three critical actions.

1. Recognize U.S.-based human rights organizations as essential partners in international human rights work, not merely as domestic charities outside an international funding portfolio.

2. Provide meaningful general operating support. Funding a project while leaving an organization unable to pay its basic operating expenses is a poor investment.

3. Invest in leadership development, particularly for young people from communities whose rights are most at risk. That investment will pay dividends long after individual grants have ended.

None of these ideas is particularly radical. What is radical is for philanthropy to promote and support the importance of human rights abroad while allowing American organizations that defend them to disappear.

I have lived with cerebral palsy all my life. I know personally what disability discrimination looks like. I also know what happens when determined people organize, persuade elected officials, challenge established practices, and refuse to accept exclusion as inevitable.

That is how progress happens. It takes people, organizations, persistence, and money over time.

Philanthropy has an opportunity to help preserve what previous generations fought to achieve while preparing new leaders to carry that work forward.

I am not asking foundations to rescue every struggling nonprofit. I am asking them to recognize that protecting human rights requires a continuing investment in the organizations and people doing the protecting in America as well as overseas.

If American philanthropy believes human rights are universal, then invest in American nonprofits that do this work too.

 

Thank you.

Common Grounder