Posts tagged ability.

When disabled people, Autistic and non-autistic, say that they use identity-first language to refer to themselves, a common retort is “I don’t understand why you would define yourself by your disability.” To me, this doesn’t make sense. I call myself disabled because I don’t think my disability needs to be held at arm’s length, not because I believe that I’m autism on legs.

(As with my other traits, I refer to my disability with an adjective-noun construction which is common to the English language. I would also describe myself as a long-haired woman. So far no one has come forward to demand that I instead refer to myself as “an individual with long hair,” or accused me of “defining myself by my hair length.”)

I’m starting to think that when people say “defining yourself by your disability” they really mean “talking about yourself in a way that reflects the belief that your disability is not detachable.”

Illusion of Competence (via glitterencrustedbunghole)

yuuuuuuuuuuuup

(via liquidiousfleshbag)

This is perfection.

(via goldenheartedrose)

01.05.13 ♥ 1745
The hardest thing about having an intellectual disability is the loneliness. We process information slower than everyone else. So even normal conversation is a constant battle for us not to lose touch with what the rest of you are saying. Most of the time the words and thoughts just go too fast for us to keep up, and when we finally say something it seems out of place.
11.02.12 ♥ 124

likeafieldmouse:

Sue Austin - Creating the Spectacle (2012)

As part of the 2012 Cultural Olympiad, performance and installation artist Sue Austin created this series in which she—in her self-propelled underwater wheelchair—explored the magnificence of the underwater world, aiming to generate a widespread public debate about the nature and value of contemporary arts practice shaped by the experience of disability.

Artist’s statement: 

“My studio practice has, for sometime, centred around finding ways to understand and represent my embodied experience as a wheelchair user, opening up profound issues about methods of self-representation and the power of self-narration in challenging the nexus of power and control that created the ‘disabled’ as other.”

10.31.12 ♥ 5621
I have lived a life of pushing myself too far, well past my edge, partly to survive and partly because I had no clue where my edge was. And this is still true in so many ways. Ableism is so seductive, so alluring, so all-together-spell-binding, that I find myself erasing my edges and redrawing them, until I become laid up sick in bed or physically injure myself. I am constantly navigating access or connection, “my edge” or being with community. The pull of connection and relationships, is always what gets me. It excites me and makes me abandon my edge. It is the part of me that foolishly thinks I can be someone who can party hop, work a 14 hour day and then go and socialize, doesn’t need sleep, doesn’t need to bring my wheelchair. It is internalized ableism. It is the seduction of ableism. And it has been the only way I have been able to be part of queer people of color community and social justice community in any real way.

-Mia Mingus, Edges


feeling this so hard right now, though in different communities and in different ways as a white person who doesn’t utilize a wheelchair. but my life has been all about this lately and really feeling the vulnerability that comes with going over the edge and paying for it for weeks. i keep modeling my edge after my past and the edges of my able bodied peers and i need to stop

(via unheardofsongs)

10.13.12 ♥ 2
I think the most annoying/difficult thing nondisabled people do on the daily is make assumptions about what my life is like or what I must be like, i.e., I get a lot of overenthusiastic, condescending smiles/words of unnecessary encouragement (“you’re so inspirational!”) when I’m trying to do basic things like buy tampons. You can tell people are thinking ‘I’m gonna go out of my way and brighten that sad crippled girl’s day!’ when the reality is I’m just trying not to murder them. Many nondisabled people seem to think that because I can’t walk, I can’t do anything (which is way weird and very insulting), therefore my completion of extremely mundane tasks blows. their. minds. For instance, I put my glasses back on at the dentist after taking them off for a root canal (I just threw that last part in to elicit reader sympathy) and the mid-twenties hygienist looked into my eyes, sighed, and said ‘you’re AMAZING.’ Umm really? That’s ‘amazing?’ If I’d been capable of thinking clearly through my paroxysm of indignation I would’ve responded with an ornery retort, something along the lines of ‘if you like that, you should watch me wipe after using the bathroom — it’s INCREDIBLE!’ Instead I did what I often do in these situations, which is: perform a Liz Lemon ‘over the top eye-roll,’ bury my exasperation deep down in my solar plexus, and wait for it to erupt later under more awkward and embarrassing conditions.

That particular ‘amazing’ comment was not an isolated event, and happens fairly regularly. Recently, I pushed the button in an elevator, which was also deemed ‘amazing.’ What’s so upsetting about these seemingly glib remarks is that they reveal the insidious consequences of pervasive cultural stereotypes about disability (namely: to be disabled means you must be incompetent); more personally, it exposes society’s lowered expectations of me as a disabled woman. Because if putting on a pair of glasses or pushing a button is an achievement deserving of a verbal pat on the back (it’s not), what sort of legitimateaccomplishments do people believe I’m capable of? Evidently my options are limited. For the record I don’t think the people making these ridiculous comments are bad people. In fact I think they’re ‘trying to be nice,’ but severely misguided, with no awareness that what they consider to be complimentary is actually denigrating and otherizing. An apt comparison would be a white person telling a black person they’re articulate or well-spoken. What one person considers praise, another labels as ‘worthy of a melodramatic, audible groan.’ Also, strangers in general just feel comfortable asking me really personal questions (“What happened to you?!” “Were you in an accident?” “Can you have sex?” which even at 30 years old I’m still shocked by. (Answers: Does it matter?, No, and YES — ALL THE TIME. I’m actually having sex as I’m typing now — it’s amazing.) I don’t have to deal with parking space-stealers as I rely on Portland’s ever-entertaining public transport. Did you know wheelchair vans are like $50K? Like most non-Huxtables I can’t afford that. I just keep it real on the bus.

— Caitlin Wood (via stowaway)

thetendergravityofkindness:

josiahd:

ceepolk:

thatdeafchick:

thetendergravityofkindness:

I love this pic so much. But I hate the quote, so much. My “bad attitude” comes from the fact that so many of my disabled kin are either homeless or locked up in nursing homes. It comes from the long history of eugenics [that’s still continuing today]. It comes from the fact that disability justice gets pushed so far back that many, many activists haven’t even heard/come across the term “ableism,” let alone understand it as a systemic oppression. Shit like this makes disabled people responsible for inaccessibility and ableism—while it romanticizes it. ::hisses:: Why can’t this simply be a pic of a child running with her friend/mentor? Why does everything having to do with our lives have to be repackaged and consumed for the purpose of inspiration?Our lives aren’t owned by Hallmark, y’all.

also you get abled bodied people going, “such and such disabled person did this! whats your excuse?”
what the fuck is that supposed to mean? everyone’s amazing is different. obviously people like Oscar Pistorius are born athletes. thats HIS skills. it doesnt make him some sort of poster child to make all other people who have NOT accomplished some great feats feel bad about themselves and to have their accomplishments diminished by highlighting his disability as “WOW he did that even though he is disabled! whats your excuse for not being better??”
disabled people are not here to be your inspiration. 
i will repeat. disabled people are not here to be your inspiration.

Thank you. And that child is cute, I remember having a dress like that when I was little.

And you know what else?
This *could* be a picture of something like “why disabled kids need disabled adults”, or “Awesome, she’s not being taught to pretend she’s not disabled and look normal at all costs”, or any number of other genuinely good things going on in that picture.
But instead people make it mean *the exact opposite* of what it’s a picture of.

Reblogging for josiahd’s commentary. Super good point.

thetendergravityofkindness:

josiahd:

ceepolk:

thatdeafchick:

thetendergravityofkindness:

I love this pic so much. But I hate the quote, so much. My “bad attitude” comes from the fact that so many of my disabled kin are either homeless or locked up in nursing homes. It comes from the long history of eugenics [that’s still continuing today]. It comes from the fact that disability justice gets pushed so far back that many, many activists haven’t even heard/come across the term “ableism,” let alone understand it as a systemic oppression. 

Shit like this makes disabled people responsible for inaccessibility and ableism—while it romanticizes it. ::hisses:: Why can’t this simply be a pic of a child running with her friend/mentor? Why does everything having to do with our lives have to be repackaged and consumed for the purpose of inspiration?

Our lives aren’t owned by Hallmark, y’all.

also you get abled bodied people going, “such and such disabled person did this! whats your excuse?”

what the fuck is that supposed to mean? everyone’s amazing is different. obviously people like Oscar Pistorius are born athletes. thats HIS skills. it doesnt make him some sort of poster child to make all other people who have NOT accomplished some great feats feel bad about themselves and to have their accomplishments diminished by highlighting his disability as “WOW he did that even though he is disabled! whats your excuse for not being better??”

disabled people are not here to be your inspiration. 

i will repeat. disabled people are not here to be your inspiration.

Thank you. And that child is cute, I remember having a dress like that when I was little.

And you know what else?

This *could* be a picture of something like “why disabled kids need disabled adults”, or “Awesome, she’s not being taught to pretend she’s not disabled and look normal at all costs”, or any number of other genuinely good things going on in that picture.

But instead people make it mean *the exact opposite* of what it’s a picture of.

Reblogging for josiahd’s commentary. Super good point.

takebacksexuality:

I have been doing some research on sex and disability, and thought I would share some of the links I have found. This will be useful for me in the future as a resource, and hopefully to others too.


Disability and Sex General Links

09.04.12 ♥ 4066
I can assure you my fight is not with “hypothetical others”. My fight is very real. It involves baseless prejudice acted upon by real people who would like to see me and all the other cripples shut up and quietly and gratefully accept what society deems appropriate to give us. Real people consider me an expensive burden, an economic drain. Real people tell me “I would rather be dead than use a wheelchair”. Real people knowingly oppose disability rights. Real people go to great lengths to avoid compliance with the ADA. Real people routinely cut budgets and the first line item to go is always about access. Real people think I cannot read. Real people avoid me because they fear disability. Real people worry I am contagious. Real people with children grab their kids hand in fear and pull their child away from me. I need not go on as you surely get the point. Bigotry is very real, compromises my life and has in fact destroyed countless lives.

tranquality:

[photo: words spray painted onto concrete wall. words read, “I’m queer. I have a disability. I’m on this campus. Hear me.”]