just neurodivergent things: not being able to tell if you’re dealing with your symptoms better now or if you just never actually had them in the first place.
I did my thesis on eugenics and forced sterilization in Canadian history (indigenous specific) and the next cis woman to say that men should collectively be forced to get vasectomies for points on some kind imaginary scoreboard of rights is getting sent a copy of the records I had to sift thru of men, mostly indigenous, racialized, developmentally disabled, or poor men, being sterilized against their wills and often without their knowledge.
I once again must remind people that “don’t like abortion, get a vasectomy” isn’t the gotcha you think it is, and that reproductive justice means supporting people who are targeted by the state both for forced birth AND for sterilization and child apprehension, as they’re linked closely.
Today, while sitting in a shaded outdoor common space on my college campus, comparing sets of blood test results from the last year to see if there was anything I wanted to bring up with my doctor, I overheard a snippet of conversation between two middle aged women. What stood out to me was the woman who said, clearly in praise, “I know she’s suffered extremely, but she comes to work and she does her job!”
This is a kind of violence.
Now, maybe you’re reading this thinking What?? Sounds like the lady is a badass, good for her! Or maybe you’re thinking Why are you complaining? I would be appreciative that my coworker was doing her job despite hardship! Everybody has problems, I have problems, but I don’t bring them to work with me!
So before I break this down, let me tell you a little bit about two of my coworkers with disabilities: for context, there are other people at my place of employment with disabilities but I am most familiar with “A” and “B”’s specific circumstances, so they’re who I’m going to talk about here. Both coworkers I am discussing here are white, straight, cis women. I am not going to give any specifics that might make them identifiable, but I will say that “A” is in a skinny young adult with an autoimmune disorder; and “B” is middle aged, plus-sized, and has multiple disabilities. “B” is required to be provided with a chair so that she can sit periodically and has restrictions on how much weight she can lift; “A” has not requested or received any accommodations, although she does miss work periodically when she has bad flair ups. My manager has told me multiple times that she hates seeing “B” sit down because she thinks it “looks bad,” and both she and other managers have frequently harassed “B,” telling her that they need to see her doing more, threatening to stop allowing her use the chair (despite the fact they are required by company policy, and I believe law, to provide this accommodation), and writing her up for sitting down, claiming she is using her chair “too much.” All this is despite the fact that she was moved, against her wishes and to her disadvantage, by said managers from a position that allowed her to accomplish tasks while sitting (and to use a mobility aid while performing tasks while standing), to a position which makes it so that sitting in accordance with her doctor’s directions makes it more difficult for her to accomplish her assigned tasks; she also has less ability to use a mobility aid. “B” frequently expresses concern that she will be fired, and frequently goes longer than she is supposed to without sitting or lifts significantly more than she is supposed to (impacting her health), because she is afraid of being written up, or having a customer complain she was not helpful enough. My other coworker, “A” frequently works while visibly suffering from flair-ups and explains at length to myself and other managers that she is trying to get her health stabilized so that she does not inconvenience anybody, and because she wants to be a good employee. My manager praises “A,” except when “A” does have to miss a period of work because of her condition, and then, despite the fact that “A” always brings in documentation showing she was not only having a flair up, but was receiving treatment, my manager writes “A” up because her absences are “too much at this point,” and “beyond what we can reasonably excuse.” This is only the smallest possible example of the harm done by praising someone for “coming to work and doing her job.”
This mentality focuses on a valuing of human life based off of how productive and convenient a person is, and it’s something I see prevalent in classroom and employment settings (both as the affirmation, as well as the inverse “I know X is going through a lot, but they’re attitude is terrible, they’re just not doing a good job!”). Essentially, the value assigned to a person as an employee (or as a student) is based on how much they are able to do despite disability (or other barriers), and is framed through a lens of personal convenience (ie “I’m not ableist, I just don’t want to get stuck doing all the work because they can’t”). At its core, I believe the idea that this mentality stems from ableism, neoliberalism, and capitalism.
Disabled people, especially disabled women, are under constant surveillance; there’s a great article by Sharon Dale Stone called “The Myth of Bodily Perfection,” where she discusses the idea of bodily perfection and points out that morality is generally tied to ability, and that people (especially women) are likely to conceal disability if they can. This is because of capitalist ideas of productivity, as well as neoliberalism; anyone who is not appropriately productive, who can’t come to work and do their job, must just be lazy, must not be trying hard enough. “Model” disabled figures, such as the woman I overheard be discussed on campus, are used to prove this; if she can do her job, why can’t someone else? What is overlooked is not only that people have different needs and abilities and not everyone can come in every single day and meet/exceed expectations (or that the additional burden of trying to do this may not be desirable, and shouldn’t be enforced), but it overlooks the actual lived experiences of this “ideal” figure: what is it costing her to fill this role? Why is she put in a position where she has to? Furthermore, why are you blaming those who cannot do it? While it may be inconvenient for you to “pick up the slack,” rather than blaming your disabled coworker, maybe ask why your employer is setting you both up to fail–why is your coworker being asked to work beyond their ability, and why are you? Why is the workplace not setup to accommodate for disability?
This also ties into another of Stone’s points: that we imagine individuals are “totally able or totally disabled, with no in-between,” and that disability cannot be concealed (418); essentially, in the hegemonic imagination if someone is disabled they should not only experience the same amount of disability at all times, but should be completely (and visibly) disabled. The employed disabled figure is something of a paradox: while neoliberal Model Minority figures exist, those with visible disabilities must either be able to achieve this status, or be viewed as unemployable; this comes out in sentiments along the lines of “Well, if they were able to do x,y,z task last week, they can do it today!” and “All I’m saying is if they can’t do the job, they shouldn’t work here!” With invisible disabilities, it largely comes out as a complete refusal to believe the person in question is disabled; this doesn’t always mean a specific belief that the person is lying, but rather a refusal to engage with, on a meaningful level, the idea that a person who “looks” healthy and normal has real limitations that impact their ability to do things, and is not just “being lazy” when they can’t do something.
So what’s the solution to this? Ultimately, what I want is good allyship. Think critically before you speak. Ask yourself why is it so important to you that your coworkers, who are “suffering extremely” are also meeting your standards of productivity. Look for ways to make your workplace or classroom more accessible. And above all else, try to find ways to build solidarity; instead of praising the woman who is working despite suffering, ask what you and others can do to alleviate the suffering.
advice for writing a stutterer from an actual stutterer;
okay no shade at all I just want all of u to learn and grow and become better writers! so here’s a handy tip list!
we don’t stutter on every word. okay, sometimes it can seem it, but honestly, we don’t, so leave a few words in there to give your readers some breathing room.
we stutter more on specific sounds. for me, f and s sounds are big ones. everyone has their thing and most stutterers have sounds that are harder to get out.
we don’t just stutter at the beginning of words and sentences. okay, honestly this is a big one for me. sometimes, a word starts off really well and goes down the drain at the second syllable! and the stutter doesn’t disappear once we’ve made it past the first word - it clings in there, so don’t forget it.
some of us don’t always stutter. some, not all, of us have what’s known as an anxious stutter, which generally comes alongside anxiety disorders. so, while it may be usually present, when a person with an anxious stutter is particularly comfortable with a situation, it tends to get better (or even almost disappear).
we don’t stutter when we swear. this is why some of us can stutter and stutter and stutter on a word and then shout fuck and everything’s cool. as far as science knows, this is because swearing is from a more primitive part of the brain, and so it bypasses the bit that makes us stutter! it’s so cool honestly.
we don’t stutter when we sing. the biggest two reasons for this one is 1) music comes from a different part of the brain to talking (language=left; music=right), and so it once again bypasses the stutter, or 2) ‘easy voice’, which is the voice that people sing in, is softer and smoother, and the sounds are longer so there’s less opportunity to stutter. either option is way cool but we don’t stutter when we sing.
sometimes, we give up on words. after a certain amount of stuttering on a certain word, you may see a stutterer take a deep breath and either try again, or replace it with a synonym. sometimes that word just won’t fit right in our mouths!
we hate it when people try to guess what we’re trying to say or try to speed us up. this might be a more personal thing for me, but there’s nothing I hate more than that clicky sound people make or the weird hand gestures or being told to “spit it out.” because we can’t control this shit and it gets tiring. it’s better just to let the person get it out and take their time with it, so when you’re writing, keep this in mind!
it gets worse when we’re anxious or stressed, and when we’re excited! I get really really stuttery when I’m enthusiastic about the topic of conversation, because I know so much about that thing that I try to talk really fast and my mouth can’t keep up! it’s the same when I’m anxious or stressed - when there’s more on our minds, the more everything gets a little muddled.
I hope this was helpful! feel free to add on and spread around!
Some of my personal things. (Can’t day the same for others)(I have mostly gotten rid of my stutter so this is based off past experiences)
•when I’m acting, I don’t stutter. Probably because the words aren’t mine and I don’t have to come up with them myself. (But when reading through the script the first few times before I’ve memorised it I will struggle)
•when I’m reading aloud however, my stutter becomes even more prominent
•sometimes I’ll give up talking all together and say never mind so I’ve developed the habit of not inputting into conversations
•not really all that relevant but I used to talk to my baby sister all the time because she couldn’t talk yet and wouldn’t complain about my stuttering, and so when she started to talk with a stutter like me, I wasn’t allowed to talk to her for a WHOLE TWO YEARS
Reading aloud is the actual worst.
Back when I was in elementary school my third grade teacher didn’t believe I could read as well as I could (I was tested that year as having a reading level equivalent to a typical tenth grader) because I couldn’t read aloud. I have a stutter. It was severe in third grade. And like anyone who has a stutter will tell you, reading aloud is awful. The teacher wanted to hold me back in third grade because I can’t read aloud. Thankfully, the principal and my folks vetoed that idea.
Hell, I’m 30 now, and my stutter is mild most days now, and I still can’t read aloud. At all. My stutter won’t let me.
The other thing I can’t do: Field sobriety tasks involving talking like trying to say the alphabet backwards or counting out loud on one leg or something. A cop thought I was publicly intoxicated on Hallowe’en when I was 15 because of my stutter and tried to do a field sobriety thing on me. Thankfully my little sister was with me and was like, “She can’t do that, she has a stutter. And she’s not drunk!” If she hadn’t been with me, I’m pretty sure I would’ve been arrested solely because I stutter.
hearing neurodivergents piss me off so much actually
like. idk maybe it’s the whole “body language is weird and shouldn’t be used, its too hard to understand” or “actually captions were meant for autistic english-only speakers to understand foreign media” or “i wish we had real life captions” or “facial expressions are meaningless, we should all look neutral” (before you ask, yes these are all real things i’ve seen hearing neurodivergents tell me straight to my face.) but i think maybe i’m allowed to be upset when maybe one every 20 videos i see has captions. or no places i go to have a sign language interpreter. or the fact that hearing aides are so expensive, just to get one that’s decent quality could cost me thousands of dollars, just so i can pass as “normal”. or maybe it’s me HAVING to get a hearing aide just to function like a “normal person”. maybe its all of these combined and spilling over constantly. i dont fucking know. im just tired of never being able to participate in activities that rely on sound.
dont rb if youre gonna put a stupid comment in my notes.
Back when I was in school, a teacher who knew I wanted to be a writer told me that my chronic illness would make me a wiser, better writer. I said something polite in response, but now I would probably tell her this:
I would rather be well and have absolutely nothing to write about. Being sick sucks. Illness has no perks, benefits, or silver linings that I wouldn’t trade for good health.
Parents with disabilities shouldn’t be discriminated against, but all too often, they are.
According to talkpoverty.org, disabled parents are more likely to lose custody of their children during a divorce than non-disabled parents. In 37 states, parents can have their custodial rights revoked solely because they’re disabled. Child welfare services remove children of disabled parents at higher than average rates, and disabled people also face discrimination when adopting and fostering children.
The vast majority of parents with disabilities are capable of providing a safe, loving home for their children. Families shouldn’t be separated because of these discriminatory practices that are based on outdated, ableist definitions of parental fitness.
I wish healthy people understood that getting a diagnosis ≠ getting an effective treatment.
There are so many chronic illnesses for which there aren’t very effective medications or therapies. Even if your chronic illness has a few good treatments available, they might not work for you, or they might be out of your reach because your doctor won’t prescribe them or your insurance won’t cover them.
If you do find a medication or treatment that works for you, it might only alleviate some of your symptoms and restore part of your function. It might come with unpleasant side effects that interfere with your life in new ways.
Chronic illnesses are complex, and treating one is never as simple as getting a diagnosis and being prescribed a pill that fixes everything (or even helps).
Health insurance companies shouldn’t be able to pick and choose which treatments they’ll cover. I just got diagnosed with a condition (Small Fiber Polyneuropathy) that can be effectively treated or even cured with IVIG. But because IVIG is expensive and my doctor has a hard time getting insurance companies to cover it, he’s putting me on other medications that are much less effective. Health insurance companies shouldn’t be allowed to prevent doctors from properly treating their patients all in the name of profit.
One of the worst things about chronic illness is how it changes your relationships.
Because you’re so tired, it’s hard to regulate your emotions. You might snap at your loved ones, or lean on them for emotional support too heavily.
You might worry about asking your loved ones for too much help. Even if you have very supportive family and friends, internalized ableism can make you feel that you’re a burden on them.
Worst of all, chronic illness can cause the people who don’t understand it to say very hurtful things to you or even walk out of your life entirely.
It’s extremely hard to cope with the changes that chronic illness brings to your body while coping with the changes it brings to your relationships and your life.
Nondisabled storytellers often seem to think of disability as an abusive roommate coming and imposing its will on a disabled person. When they think about wheelchair users, they don’t think about the mobility that’s made possible by assistive technology. They think about how they’d feel if someone chained them to a wheelchair and forcibly prevented them from walking.
This misconception is dangerous. When people see disability-related limitations as similar to violent restraint, they don’t know know to tell the difference between the innate limitations of someone’s body and limitations being forcibly imposed on them by others. When people don’t understand the difference between living with a disability and living with an abuser, they assume that abusive experiences are inevitable for people with disabilities.
In reality, there’s nothing inevitable about abuse. Coming up against the limitations of your body is fundamentally different from being forcibly restrained by someone else. Whether or not you are disabled, having physical limitations is part of having a body. Being disabled means that you have a different range of physical limitations than most other people do, but they don’t come color coded ‘normal’ and ‘disabled’. When you’re used to the way your body works, the disability-related limitations feel pretty similar to those that aren’t disability-related.
Using assistive technology is pretty similar to using technology for any other important reason. Everyone uses technology to do things that their bodies alone would be too limited to do. Most people use cars to go further than they could walk; some people also use wheelchairs to go further than they could walk. Some people type or use communication tablets to say more than they could with their bodies alone; some people use musical instruments; some people use both. People with disabilities have different limitations, and as a result, often benefit from technology that wouldn’t be particularly useful to nondisabled people.
When technology is associated with disability, people tend to have the dangerous misconception that using it is the same as being restrained. This can very easily become self-fulfilling. When people prevent disabled people from doing things, their inability to do it is often misattributed to their disability. For instance:
Wheelchairs as restraints:
Anthony lives in a nursing home.
Anthony speaks oddly, and most people interpret most of what he says as meaningless. They say ‘Anthony doesn’t communicate’.
Anthony can walk and wants to walk, but the nursing him staff don’t let him.
George, the supervisor, tells Sage, another staff member, ‘Anthony wanders. We need to keep him in his wheelchair to keep him safe. Just lock the seatbelt. After a few minutes, he stops resisting.’
Every morning, Sage puts Anthony in a wheelchair that he can’t move, and ties him down so he can’t escape.
Sage tells Marge, a new volunteer, ‘That’s Anthony. It’s so nice to have a volunteer - he’s been spending most of his time in the hallway lately. He doesn’t walk or talk, but he loves visiting the garden! Can you take him there?”
Marge and Sage don’t know what Anthony actually wants, and it doesn’t occur to them that it’s possible to ask.
Anthony actually hates the garden and hates being pushed by other people. He prefers to spend his time in the library or with children in the children’s wing.
Marge assumes that Sage is the expert on Anthony, and assumes that Anthony’s disability prevents him from walking and communicating.
Marge doesn’t know that Anthony has stopped talking because he’s constantly surrounded by people who refuse to listen to him.
Marge doesn’t know that Sage is tying Anthony to a wheelchair against his will to stop him from going where he wants to go.
Marge doesn’t know that she’s doing something to Anthony against his will.
When people see disability and restraint as the same thing, they fail to notice that people with disabilities are being violently restrained — and often unwittingly participate in physical abuse of disabled people.
The disability-as-restraint misconception also causes people to fail to understand that when they deny people access to assisstive technology, they’re preventing them from doing things, eg:
Mobility:
Beck is an eight year old who can’t walk.
Beck has a wheelchair, but he’s not allowed to bring it to school.
At school, he’s strapped into a stroller that others push around.
His classmate Sarah has *never* had a wheelchair that she can push herself.
At a staff meeting, Lee, their teacher, says “Because of their disabilities, Sarah and Beck can’t move around by themselves. Even though they stay in one place all day, they’re so fun to have in our class!”
Lee is missing the crucial fact that the reason Sarah and Beck are immobile is because they’re being denied access to assistive technology.
When people see disability and externally-imposed limitation as the same thing, they don’t notice limitations being imposed on disabled people.
Communication:
Rebecca types on her iPad to communicate.
Clay takes away Rebecca’s iPad.
Clay tells Sophie, ‘Rebecca is nonverbal. Her disability prevents her from communicating, but we’re working on improving her speech.’
Sophie sees that Rebecca can’t talk, and assumes that it’s her disability that’s preventing her from communicating.
Actually, it’s *Clay* who is preventing Rebecca from communicating.
When people see disability and abuse as the same thing, they don’t notice abuse of disabled people.
It’s important to be clear on the difference between disability and abuse. Disability is not an abusive roommate; people with disabilities are only abused if someone is abusing them. When people with disabilities are restrained against their will, this is not caused by their disabilities; it’s caused by the people who are restraining them. Restraint is an act of violence, not an innate fact about disability. When wheelchairs are used as restraints, the wheelchair isn’t the problem; the violence is the problem. When people are denied access to assistive technology, it’s not their disability that’s limiting them; it’s neglect. When we stop conflating disability and abuse, we’re far less likely to see abuse of people with disabilities as inevitable.
It’s important to have morally neutral language to describe actions. This is especially important for actions that are always, usually, or sometimes morally wrong.
For instance:
In English, ‘killing’ and ‘murder’ mean different things.
‘Murder’ always means killing that is either illegal or morally wrong.
‘Killing’ can describe any act that causes someone to die.
This distinction makes it possible to talk about when killing is and isn’t justified.
Even for people who think that killing is always murder, this is important.
Without morally neutral language, it’s impossible to express a clear opinion on whether or not killing is ever acceptable.
Sonja: *dies as a result of being shot by Heather*.
In this situation, Heather definitely killed Sonja. Whether or not she murdered Sonja is something people can argue about.
Eg: If Sonja was trying to kill Heather and Heather shot her in self-defense, almost everyone would argue that this isn’t murder.
Eg: If Heather was trying to rob Sonja’s store and shot her to prevent her from calling for help, almost everyone would consider that murder.
Eg: If Heather felt threatened by Sonja in a public space and shot her rather than trying to run away, most people would consider that murder, but some people would vehemently disagree.
Because ‘murder’ and ‘killing’ are different words, everyone would be able to express their opinion in a clear way.
When it’s impossible to describe actions without condemning them, it can be impossible to describe what people are actually doing. This makes it hard to have an honest conversation, and even harder to hold people accountable.
Here’s a disability services example (randomly generated names):
Charles (a staff person): I don’t believe in coercion. I never control my clients or tell them what to do. They’re totally in control of their own lives.
Patricia (a disabled adult client): I want to eat some cookies at 3am.
Staff person: You can’t eat cookies at 3am. You agreed to take care of yourself by making healthy choices, and it’s important to keep your agreements.
Patricia: You’re telling me what to do instead of letting me decide.
Staff person: No I’m not. I’m telling you that you can’t eat cookies at 3am because staying up past your bedtime and eating junk food aren’t healthy choices. I would never tell you what to do.
Patricia doesn’t get access to cookies, and is put on a behavior plan if she leaves her room after 10pm.
In this example, Charles is blatantly and unambiguously controlling Patricia and telling her what to do. When Patrica says ‘telling me what to do’, she means it literally. When Charles says, ‘telling people what to do’ he really means ‘telling people what to do (without a good reason)’. He doesn’t realize that coercion is still coercion even if he thinks it’s justified coercion. Without a direct literal way to refer to the act of controlling people, it becomes nearly impossible to discuss when coercion is and isn’t justified.
This happens a lot, in any number of contexts, often following this kind of pattern:
Person: I would never do The (Unacceptable) Thing!
Person: *does The (Unacceptable) Thing*.
Someone else: You literally just did The (Unacceptable) Thing.
Person: No, I didn’t do The (Unacceptable) Thing. I had a good reason, so it wasn’t The (Unacceptable) Thing. I would never do The (Unacceptable) Thing.
Sometimes people who talk this way are lying — but not always. Sometimes it’s that they don’t understand that reasons don’t erase actions. Sometimes they think actions only count as The (Unacceptable) Thing when they consider the actions to be unjustified/unacceptable. If you point out that they are, in fact, literally doing The Thing, they think that means you’re accusing them of being bad — and that you couldn’t be right, because they have a good reason.
This language problem is breaking a lot of conversations that need to happen, particularly around privilege and misuse of power.
Tl;dr: It needs to be possible to describe what people are doing in morally neutral terms. This is especially important for actions that are always, usually, or sometimes morally wrong. Scroll up for more about why and a concrete example.
Some apologies amount to someone asking for permission to keep doing something bad.
These apologies generally shouldn’t be accepted.
(But it can be really hard not to, because who want permission to do bad things tend to lash out when they don’t get it.)
(If you have to accept a bad apology to protect yourself, it’s not your fault.)
Eg:
Moe: “I’m sorry, I know this is my privileged male opinion talking but…”
Or, Moe: “I’m sorry, I know I’m kind of a creeper…” or “I’m sorry, I know I’m standing too close but…”
At this point, Sarah may feel pressured to say “It’s ok.”
If Sarah says, “Actually, it’s not ok. Please back off” or “Yes, you’re mansplaining, please knock it off”, Moe is likely to get angry.
The thing is, it’s not ok, and Moe has no intention of stopping.
Moe is just apologizing in order to feel ok about doing something he knows is wrong.
Another example:
Sam is a wheelchair user. He’s trying to get through a door.
Mary sees him and decides that he needs help.
Mary rushes to open the door. As she does so, she says “Oh, sorry, I know I’m supposed to ask first”, with an expectant pause.
At this point, Sam may feel pressured to say “It’s ok”, even if the ‘help’ is unwanted and unhelpful.
If Sam says, “Yes, you should have asked first. You’re in my way. Please move”, Mary is likely to get angry and say “I was just trying to help!”.
In this situation, Mary wasn’t really apologizing. She was asking Sam to give her permission to do something she knows is wrong.
More generally:
Fake Apologizer: *does something they know the other person will object to*.
Fake Apologizer: “Oh, I’m sorry. I know I’m doing The Bad Thing…” or “I guess you’re going to be mad if I…”
Fake Apologizer: *expectant pause*
The Target is then supposed to feel pressured to say something like “That’s ok”, or “I know you mean well”, or “You’re a good person, so it’s ok for you to do The Bad Thing.”
If the Target doesn’t respond by giving the Fake Apologizer permission/validation, the Fake Apologizer will often lash out. This sometimes escalates in stages, along the lines of:
Fake Apologizer: I *said* I was sorry!
Fake Apologizer: *expectant pause*
The Target is then supposed to feel pressure to be grateful to the Fake Apologizer for apologizing, and then as a reward, give them permission to do The Bad Thing. (Or apologize for not letting them do The Bad Thing.)
If the Target doesn’t respond in the way the Fake Apologizer wants, they will often escalate to intense personal insults, or even overt threats, eg:
Fake Apologizer: I guess you’re just too bitter and broken inside to accept my good intentions. I hope you get the help you need. And/or:
Fake Apologizer: Ok, fine. I’ll never try to do anything for you ever again. And/or
Fake Apologizer: *storms off, and slams the door in a way that causes the person who refused their intrusive help to fall over*.
Tl;dr Sometimes what looks like an apology is really a manipulative demand for validation and permission to do something bad.
We need to talk about your absolution-seeking behavior. When disabled people go to conferences, disability professionals flock to us and ask us to help them feel good about themselves and their field. This isn’t ok. It needs to stop, and you need to be part of stopping it.
This is never ok, but it’s especially bad when it’s a defense against listening. Disabled people often put themselves on the line to bear witness to the problems in the disability field. When we do this, the last thing it’s appropriate to do is seek out validation. It’s a time for reflection, not absolution.
Too many disabled disability advocates are having some version of this conversation with disability professionals:
Disabled Advocate: Your field is doing serious harm to disabled people.
Disability Professional: Tell me about it! They’re all awful. But not me, I’m the exception. I’m one of the good ones.
Disabled Advocate: How?
Disability Professional: I am the exception because I recognize the uniqueness of individuals by doing Something Disabled Advocates Oppose and Another Thing Disabled Advocates Lobby Against. I’m sorry you’ve had such bad experiences with other people in my field, there are a lot of bad apples!
Disabled Advocate: Actually, the things you’re describing are the things we object to in your field, and here’s why.
Disability Professional: I agree with you! That’s why I do those things. I’m one of the good ones.
Please stop doing this to disabled people. Please stop assuming that you’re one of the good ones and that what we say doesn’t apply to you. Everyone seems to think of themselves as an exception because they have helped some people or had some sort of good intentions.
Please keep in mind that it is not remotely unusual to do good things in the disability field. Most people who have done great harm have also done some good. That doesn’t make you special, and it doesn’t erase anything you’ve done to disabled people. Good intentions don’t heal broken bones or broken dreams. Don’t seek absolution from us. Listen to us, acknowledge the problems, and find ways to do better.
Sincerely, The disabled presenter who you called inspirational
One reason I started writing this blog is that I got tired of seeing social skills programs teach autistic people that they have to become normal in order to have friends.
It’s not true. There are a lot of autistic people who have friends without becoming remotely normal. Oddness and friendship are entirely compatible.
You can be autistic, seem autistic, and have friends who like you and enjoy your company.
Some people won’t like you, and that’s ok. Not everyone has to like everyone.
Some people will dislike you because they are bigoted against autistic people. That’s not ok, but it doesn’t have to ruin your life. Ableists don’t speak for everyone. Those people aren’t your friends. Other people can be.
You’ll probably always face ableism. Trying to be normal probably won’t make that go away; accepting yourself probably won’t make that go away either. You don’t need to change the whole world in order to have friends.
You can have friends as the person you are, in the world as it is now.
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