A Disabled Woman's Scorn

Two months later….

     Everybody cheer I am not actually typing with alcohol nearby….just a sprite. Oddly I don’t drink as much as I make it sound but that is only because I don’t drink as much as I would like to drink. Why do I have not so occasional and often intense needs to drink or otherwise pretend certain parts of life don’t exist? To put it simply…you folks are stupid. (Me too don’t worry). Recently I talked to a faculty member at my alma mater about the women’s studies program and at some point it came up I might feel friction with the racial studies side, as I am white and might be seen as having it easy. I, too curious for my own good, asked what kind of role my disability would have on that sentiment to which her response was basically un surety. That made sense seeing as she was neither disabled nor knew anyone in the program that was, but in an attempt to give some kind of answer she said that at least I was a ‘pretty’ disabled. Everyone let that sit for a moment and sink in….done? Fantastic. 

     So here I am sitting in an office talking to an attractive and intelligent woman who I can only assume worked very hard to get where she was in the field of women’s studies and I am trying really hard not to slam my head into her oversized desk. Now I understand what she was trying to say which was that 1) at least I was physically capable enough to access all the available resources and 2) that since I was attractive and generally found myself with quite and unobtrusive disabilities I was likely to get farther because of reason I covered in my previous post. I get what she was TRYING to say but that doesn’t change the fact that the woman called me a ‘pretty disabled’ a term I find so insulting I can’t exactly express why…yet. First of all this women’s studies academic just used a common and degrading social view used on and against women by our species as a whole; being that a woman’s worth is based on how attractive she is to others. Secondly she just seemingly demeaned the struggle of a disabled woman by making it sound as if an attractive woman somehow feels the social condemnation and borderline banishment less than a person who is less physically appealing and that is plain bull shit.

     As a child I was apparently very cute, being blond and blue eyed. My mother talks of times when we lived in Korea as part of an army position and women would rush her in the street of town, pushing the hands of their children forward to touch my head as blond hair was extremely lucky. As child in elementary school none of the kids cared I was once pretty. I was knobbed kneed, rough and tumble with scabs and scars on my legs, and I was a cripple. I was THAT kid, the child every child is glad he or she isn’t with the thought of “I may not be the most popular but at least I am not…that kid.” In the power struggle that was an elementary school full of half fed army kids, moving every three years and learning to shop double coupon, the pecking order was an intense affair. My fifth grade year a friend of mine was adopted, as it were, by the popular crowd and given a task. To amuse them with my misery. My once friend, spurred on by the requests of the others, began to torment me daily. She called me names, jeered at me every given chance, spit at me, forcibly removed me from play equipment at recess, smashed my ankles with rhythm sticks and kick my knees out from under me at gym, removed my assignments from the inbox only to place them in the garbage and even on one occasion followed me home only to beat me up in my own back yard as the other girls gathered around and watched. If you think she cared that I was a ‘pretty’ disabled then you are painfully obtuse.

     In high school this changed as I 1) started swinging back and 2) grew boobs. At sixteen I weighed 120 pounds and sported an H cup so attention wasn’t an issue. Guys stopped making fun of me and started commenting on what ‘other things’ a tremor might be useful for besides shaking my drink. They groped, touched themselves in my direction, whistled and made suggestions daily. My only saving grace where a handful of friends who are almost all currently in the military, dead, or addicts but at the time routinely threaten those who harassed me with rather specific bodily injury. Unfortunately they couldn’t be everywhere and in one particular home economics class a boy sexually harassed me in a way I have yet seen repeated. He would ask for my number (laughing as he did), demand to sit next to me, lean over into my personal space, try to touch my hair, ask what underwear I wore, if my shaking made ‘it’ easier, stated the way I wrote (with my face very close to the paper) looked like I was ‘blowing’ someone and insisted on touching himself through his jeans and moaning every time I did my work. It was not so much the what that bothered me as the intensity and consistency, even the way the rest of the class would watch and laugh as I squirmed and pushed him away. My appearance helped absolutely nothing with those that sought to find their amusement at my expense and at times it even seemed to only peak their interest and creativity.

     I suppose this is all to say that this woman deeply insulted me by insinuating that my life was somehow easier because I was pretty. She assumes, having no knowledge of her own, that those that find themselves attractive are somehow given an easy way out of the cruelty society finds pleasure in dealing. I am not here to wine or gather pity but to simply give you the examples I know best of just how wrong those assumptions are in actuality. It seems society shuns that which it does not want to see or believe, either out of horror or discomfort, and in a modern age of prevalent guilt they also seek to ease their  own conscious by denying their involvement. White people say they aren’t racist because their ‘best friend’ is black and they too are part Native American (yeah…1/82^nd), men say they aren’t misogynistic because they love a ‘strong’ woman, and the healthy say they are not ableist because they provide assistance. Meanwhile only 8.8% of residents in Atlanta live in integrated neighborhoods, men scream Ice Queen to the virginal, Whore at the sexually active, and Irresponsible at the pregnant, and the disabled still have to use the back entrance at the University of Alabama.

Peace,

Nest

Personal

Hey boys and girls,

So I am posting in an alcohol induced stupor, fyi, so excuse any ramblings or misspellin; if you were under the impression that this was a politically correct blog where I pretend to be a perfect angel of a disabled American than well...we haven't been reading closely have we? The fact is that I drink, curse, scream, socially smoke, and generally act in ways my grandmother would rather wish I not because in all seriousness society has never much wanted me so I find little room for thier regulations. Any who...to the point.

In the last several weeks I have read a mulitude of articles involving the disabled that have bothered me deeply. The first, to sum up, is a recent occurrence in my home state of Alabama where teachers could be heard taunting a student with Cerebral Palsy (Disabled Boy Taunted). For those playing at home, but not reading the intro, that is what I have. In this article it explains how several teachers not only neglected to instruct this student but went so far as to taunt him and called him 'disgusting' nermerous times to his face. Cerebral Palsy is a neurological disorder described in several websites, if you bother to look, but for the sake of this post the important difference is this; cerebral palsy does not affect mental functions but motor function (Cerebral Palsy) meaning that this child was mentally and emotionally capable to understanding what the teachers said. Unfortunately he was wholly unable to express his unhappiness. Imagine, if you will, that you are unable to sit up or speak properly. You find yourself hard pressed to write, eat, drink, or even communicate without assistance but you are as intellectually capable as you are now. Now imagine that you are neglected and taunted daily but are either too embarrassed or unable to tell someone and so must endure this perpetually, hoping that your 'care takers' will either grow bored or develop a conscious. You might, likely not, have some idea of what this child endured for what I can only hope was a short period of time. (Many schools have a specific 'special needs class' so in reality this child could have had the same teachers for years.)

Now many of you are likely scoffing at the idea of such cruelty. How could anyone be so mean to a special needs child? YOU would never treat a child like that right? Well thus is the issue. To millions around the world the child was not a child but a 'special needs child'. Jose, the boy's name for those who didn't bother reading, was not viewed as a future valuable member of society but as a burden. Society doesn't really care if he was mistreated or even abused, America is just mad because it makes us look bad. Even the friend of mine who posted the article was not so much worried over the abuse as he was how it made his society look, stating "Stay classy, Alabama... We made international news again". Who the fuck cares about Alabama? This boy was mistreated for what I can only guess was years and your only worry is how it makes you look as an Alabama resident? (His name is purposefully left out because he is, in reality, a good person and to make others think otherwise would be unfair. Sorry lovely.)

As much as this may make my friend seem bad it is really a view of our society. Proof? My Autistic Son's Life: Not Less Valuable. In this article the mother of a boy with Down Syndrome responds to the country’s reaction after a friend murders her own son, also with Down Syndrome, and then commits suicide only to be sympathized with for her 'burden'. WHAT? A woman murders her child due to postpartum depression  and America is up-in-arms but a woman shoots her disabled son having no other mental issues and suddenly it is understandable? Shannon Des Roches Rosa was not reaching to say that society devalues the lives of the disabled. Even as a child I was viewed as less important than my classmates and so was given less attention, assistance, and even love. I was considered a burden on my parents and humanity by teachers, peers, and on occasion my family because of my disability. I have had to fight for every accomplishment I have ever had and every ounce of scholastic attention I was given because everyone, EVERYONE, saw me as less valuable than my healthy peer. Even now my closest friends assume I am incapable of even simple tasks and playfully tease me about my inability to do certain tasks, having very little to say about my capability other than my physical looks, which I am told are pleasant. The reality is that if society viewed me as valuable they would have more to say than 'nice tits...I bet you give a good hand job.' (I have heard that word for word)

So, I am sure many of you are doing the usual 'no not me'. Of course YOU couldn't be this horrible. There is no way you, with your non-aching arthritic hand and piercingly painful back, could ever add to the constant degradation of the disabled. Obviously you didn't understand EVERYONE...google it. Have you ever been somewhere, say a restaurant, and seen an obviously disabled person roll/walk in. They fight the door, order food, carefully take their tray, struggle at the drink machine and all the while you do your best to not look at them. Yes..NOT look at them. Secretly you say it is because you don't want to stare but in reality you look away because you really wish they weren't there. You shift uncomfortable because you feel you should help, or at least offer, but if they accept you would have to get up and interact. *Cue dramatic music* It is...inconvenient. The fact is your life would be easier if that disabled person wasn't around, if I wasn't around. So I guess what I am saying is that I cannot think of a single 'healthy' person who has never devalued the life of a disabled person, even myself. That is right; I am guilty of the same offenses that I charge you with. As a disabled woman I have watched a wheelchair bound person fight a door dumb struck and not knowing what to do. Do I off to help? Would that be offensive? Perhaps I should go to another door....I don't want to disturb them after all. As a disabled person I don't have some magic text book with the answers in the back. I can’t tell you what to do or what we all think because believe it or not the disabled are not secretly telepathic. We are not hive minded like some bad remake of Indiana Jones. I have my views, opinions, and hang-ups just as anyone else because when I go to sleep I do so as a human being, no more or less valuable than anyone else.

Peace and Biscuits y’all

Nest