Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Kickin it Old School for BADD 2013

I don't have the spoons to put together a new post for BADD, and it's late in the day, really late in the day.

But I've been doing BADD since, um, forever. My old blog where I started doing it is no longer available to anyone but me. So here is a vintage post that still applies way too much.

From 2010: "The Little Things. They Add Up. Stoppit" (or, microaggressions, but I didn't know that word then).

Those little things your attitudes about people like me, about what people like me, about what those other disabled people are like, that lead you to do things for me, for other people like me, to say things that you think are complementary comparisons to me. They aren't compliments. They aren't favors. They're symptoms of ableism. They make me uncomfortable. That silence isn't assent. It isn't consent. It's me not knowing how to stand up for me and my community through the constant fog of hurtful, mislead attitudes.

Please don't tell me I seem normal-just-weird. I don't. I am not. If all the calculations my brain did to look what you call normal-just-weird were printed out, I'd slaughter a rainforest in a week. It's exhausting. I don't even want to be normal. It's erasing who I am to say I'm almost a shallow imitation of something I don't wish to be. The workarounds are to make my life easier--it's a choice between doing them & having the life and appearance I do now, and not doing them and I don't even know, I've been doing them for so long. Yes, I know when I describe how I understand speech it sounds like a lot of work. It IS a lot of work. That's how my brain works. I can't tell if you're trying to understand, or trying to tell me I Am Doing It Wrong. Don't tell me I Am Doing It Wrong. It's been my brain for a long time.

Don't tell me things aren't or weren't that bad. That surely I am or was exaggerating. I hate awareness for this. I hate "kids will be kids" for this. I hate the culture of the sainted martyr parents for this. Fuck you with a rake, it can be, was, and the global situation absolutely is that bad. I have a pretty awesome life right now, yes. I'm delighted you think I am fantastic and well adjusted and I quite agree. That doesn't mean that the situation at large, childhood, adolescence, earlier adulthood weren't absolute rainstorms of shit.

Don't fucking call me an inspiration either. My name had best not be in the same sentence as that word if you wish to remain friends. I'm not an inspiration. I'm a person. Cliffs and waves and sunsets inspire. I'm just stubborn and wish to live my life as I see fit. That's not inspiring when you do it, and it isn't inspiring when I do it either.

Medical professionals: don't talk to be like I'm an adult before you notice my medicalert and like I'm 5 after. Nowhere on there does it say "words of one syllable". It tells you things that effect how I communicate and can kill me. Like when you stabbed me three times and I started shaking and not being able to focus, that didn't mean talk to me like a toddler, it meant go get some prednisone. Just so you know. If you don't know what adrenal insufficiency is, you could have asked.

People in general, stop assuming my friends aren't really my friends. They are. It's not some great act of charity to hang out with me and stuff. Nor are they there to translate Real Human to Kassianese. I may not look at you. I still LISTEN. I can probably hear you further away than you'd ever consider thinking about. I like to think that as really real grownups people can, in fact, get past the whole different body language thing. ZOMG PEOPLE ARE DIFFERENT.

Also. Please stop condescending to me about my job. I like it. You don't have to do it. I do it. I love what I do. I choose to do it because I am good at it. Yes, it is a real job. No, it isn't volunteer, people are actually paid to do what I do. You have to get certified and everything! Yes, it is my real job. And yes, I could do other real jobs, but I like mine and there is nothing wrong with that.

I do not want to be miraculously cured...no, making baby steps towards access is not, in fact, doing me a favor, but being decent and babysteps towards following the ADA...

Annnd in spite of all your ableism fail, humans I know, I actually really do like you. It hits me in the gut every time you do this stuff, because it seems out of place, what with the whole treating me like a human being thing. Stoppit already.


 

1 comment:

Posts older than 14 days are on moderation, as are non registered with google folks.

First and foremost this is a relatively safe ish space for me & mine. Do keep that in mind.