Are We Ever Disabled ‘Enough’ When You Don’t See Our Disabilities?
It is not so much that these things are invisible as it is that people are trained to hide them, and society is conditioned to look away from them.
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Beds transmute into a form of policing while simultaneously being promoted as an alternative to policing.
In listings for old pottery that was not intended to be crazed, sellers will disclose what they see as damage: ‘Some crazing.’ Sometimes that’s how I feel. Some crazing.
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It is very rare, as a disabled person, that I have an intense sense of belonging, of being not just tolerated or included in a space, but actively owning it.
When your back is against the wall, dumping your loved ones in the president’s front yard can seem like the only rational response.
Disability ruins everything, these stories tell us: disability itself is tragedy. These people’s lives are over, apparently, even though they are palpably still here.