Showing posts with label diasbility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label diasbility. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

ON INTERNET MEMES...





...AND OTHER UNQUESTIONED ACTS OF BIGOTRY 



by Heidi Johnson-Wright
EarthBound Tomboy

Perhaps by now you’ve seen the Internet meme making the rounds of a drawing of a guy in a wheelchair. He’s looking back over his shoulder, a sad, pathetic expression on his face. Surrounding him are the following words: “If you're (sic) spouse became disabled for the rest of there (sic) lives, would you still be with them???”

Yes, dear reader, it is taking all of the strength I can muster to resist calling the meme’s creator a moron incapable of knowing the difference between "you're" and "your" and “their” and “there,” or even knowing how to use a software grammar check function. And, yes, I am irritated with the use of the pronoun “them,” as if the question poses the hypothetical situation that this is a pluralist marriage that includes multiple partners who “became disabled” all at once. Perhaps it’s implying the crash of a plane on which the multiple marital partners were flying, or they all contracted a rare tropical disease while on safari together.

I also believe it is quite likely that anyone who uses three question marks in a row probably dots every letter “i” with a tiny heart. For that reason alone, the meme’s creator should be placed a stockade in the village square and bombarded with rotten produce.
 
Nevertheless, it’s not the meme’s grammatical atrocities that have inspired me to write this post. It is the sheer butt-puckering bigotry of the question being posed. Why is it an acceptable question worthy of an answer?
 
Would it be appropriate to ask: “If your spouse sent in DNA to 23 and Me and learned he/she had African ancestry, would you divorce him/her?” Or “If your spouse told you his/her grandparents emigrated from Uruguay, would you make him/her relocate permanently to the guest bedroom?” Or perhaps “If your spouse converted to Judaism, would you toss him/her off a cliff?”

 I’d like to think that most decent human beings would be appalled by questions about whether a spouse remains worthy of love even if he/she is of a different race, religion or country of national origin. Yet when it comes to disability, many people – such as those that actually answered the question on Facebook – feel it’s fine to weigh the option of giving walking papers to the person they married.

I’m not sure whether to be pissed off or profoundly sad that a quarter century after the passage of the ADA – the most comprehensive civil rights statute ever enacted to protect disabled folks from discrimination – societal attitudes remain in the Dark Ages. We continue to deny that illnesses and health issues are inextricably part of the human condition. We still cling to hierarchies, to notions of “us versus them,” to assigning value to other human beings based on their ability to meet an often unattainable ideal.

 Perhaps I should buy a more comfortable mattress for the guest bedroom.



Thursday, October 8, 2015

SCREAM ALL THE TIME



By Heidi Johnson-Wright

Once upon a time, I sincerely answered the stupid questions of others with nary a whiff of sarcasm. 

Yes, I find it hard to believe myself. But I can recall some of those moments from my youth when I thought it was my duty to educate others about my disability. Or even about disability in general. I figured that -- as a gimp girl -- I must be a positive gimp role model for the rest of society. Why, hadn’t the non-gimps allowed me to use their marginally-accessible restrooms and attend their marginally-accessible schools and struggle to find marginally-accessible housing? I had a debt to repay!

I recall a particular episode when I was a college freshman. My university offered free physical therapy for students with disabilities. It was after a PT session that I found myself at the student health center waiting for a van pick-up back to my dorm. And who should join me but Crazy Debbie.

Now, I didn’t know at the time that her name was Crazy Debbie. I learned that later after I described her to someone who knew her. All I knew was that she was a soft-core -- minimal Mohawk ‘do with no face piercings -- punk chick who introduced herself as “Deb.” (For those younger readers who are incredulous about the absence of piercings, keep in mind this was spring 1983. Back then, we thought Michael Jackson’s one glove was rad.)

Crazy Debbie started up a conversation with small talk, followed by a question I’d been asked a million times before: “What’s wrong with you?” Ask me that question today and you’re likely to end up prying my European-size 35 hand-made in Italy out of your butt crack. But back then, I responded with a gentle smile, followed by my fact-laden canned speech about rheumatoid arthritis:
“Auto-immune disease…no known causes or cures…new diagnosis in the U.S. every 30 seconds…blah, blah, blah.”

But before I got too far into my spiel, Crazy Debbie blurted out: “Isn’t that the disease where you just scream all the time?”

It’s possible that was simply a sincere question from a crazy person. I’m pretty sure, however, it was the punch line from a punker who thought she was getting over on a naïve little girl from the ‘burbs. I responded with a polite, serious answer about how the pain sometimes made me scream. But even dopey little 18-year-old me knew I’d been had. I was glad when my van ride showed up shortly thereafter.

I have no idea what Crazy Debbie is up to these days. Perhaps she’s a bobo CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Or maybe she’s now a grandma living in a double-wide in a backwoods holler somewhere.
Crazy Debbie, if you’re reading this, just remember: you never know when I’ll be wearing my Manolos. 

http://earthboundtomboy.blogspot.com/2015/09/scream-all-time.html