For eight years I traveled several counties throughout northeast Ohio assisting persons with disabilities and challenges attempting to navigate the Medicaid process. Faced with mounting bills and low on resources, they sought help to lessen the financial burden of medical expenses. Although I sometimes traveled 100 miles a day in many directions, I often drove down one long stretch of road connecting three cities. It was along this road I would see the abandoned shopping carts as I thought about the patients I was visiting, and how they related stories of feeling isolated and neglected by a system charged with caring for them.
The cart, an obvious metaphor for those who travel without a home, also embodies the idea of motion; of moving about a landscape in search of something more meaningful on a path less traveled. It also indicates the frailty of our lives; and how often we are set aside when we are no longer wanted or needed.
My thoughts soon turned to the visual of the cart – stationed quietly in neat rows in an entryway of a grocery store; near the back of a parking lot, flipped on its side, or abandoned on an empty street corner. What if one of them decided to take a chance and defy his fate? The Go Cart was born.
I dedicate the film and its message to all those who have felt forgotten, or who believed that maybe their time for serving a purpose had passed. It is never too late to re-imagine yourself or your plan. And like a shopping cart, fashioned for durability, even our vulnerabilities may be assets. Regardless of the outcome or the stopping point, ultimately it is the process, the journey that best serves humanity.