The second-wave radical feminist theologian and professor Mary Daly died earlier this month, and there has been a veritable outpouring of eulogies from various feminist blogs.
Few of these eulogies have acknowledged Daly's transphobia and racism.
I do not deny that Daly was an important figure in second-wave feminism, but to mourn her passing without a nod to her work's more problematic aspects, or explorations of these aspects, are, to put it mildly, not good. In particular, the intense, hateful transphobia found in some of her writing, and her issues with unexamined white privilege and racism--which both QueenEmily at Questioning Transphobia and Sungold at Kittywampus cover very well in recent posts--strikes many as both deeply disturbing and an old pattern that has, and continues to, rear its grotesque head in certain segments of contemporary feminism. I include myself among those who are deeply troubled by Daly's transphobic sentiments and her questionable record when it came to examining the entrenched racism and issues surrounding white privilege in the second-wave feminist movement.
I should probably mention at this point that I do not mean to appropriate or co-opt the struggles of trans* folks in any way, although my cis privilege will most likely be unintentionally reflected at points in this piece. Though the struggles of trans* people, trans feminists and PWDs and disabled feminists are not the exact same, some exclusionary tactics of certain cisgendered feminists and those of abled feminists sometimes take similar forms, especially within the mainstream feminist movement. The oppression of trans* folks and PWDs in cis, abled culture intersect in a number of ways; this post, however, barely scratches that surface. I believe that the many issues present in Daly's work--as well as the reaction to her death around the blogosphere--can serve as just one entry point to discussions of the similarities in oppression(s) that trans* people and PWDs face. There are also clear differences, among them the fact Daly used language that can only be called genocidal, while many other feminists of her generation did not advocate such an extreme path when it came to keeping certain individuals out of feminism. I will be focusing on feminism's exclusion of trans* and PWDs as reflected in the work of two very influential second-wave feminists here, but there is, of course, much more to these stories.
Daly's penchant for exclusion and outright hatred (particularly of trans* individuals) couched in oddly phrased academic rhetoric unfortunately brings to mind another famous second-waver's similar issues with people (particularly women) with disabilities. Princeton scholar Elaine Showalter--best known for bringing feminist literary theory to the fore in the academy at a time when such a discipline was, for the most part, inconceivable--dismissed disabling conditions like Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Gulf War Syndrome and mental health issues such as Dissociative Identity Disorder (referred to in the text as Multiple Personality Disorder) in her 1997 book Hystories.
In Hystories, Showalter attempted to debunk "modern media epidemics" such as the aforementioned disabilities as well as more traditionally disproven phenomena such as alien abduction and satanic ritual abuse. In the book's chapter on Chronic Fatigue, Showalter rather disingenuously declared that she did not want to “disparage the suffering” of people with such conditions only a few pages before she called CFS an extension of Western “fin de siecle [end of the century] anxiety.” She followed this stunning assertion with the claim that the Western news media was primarily responsible for making CFS into an escalating “psychogenic epidemic” (117, 131).
Like Daly's severe opinion of trans* people as dupes of the medical industry (which Kittywampus cites in her post), Showalter also seemed to be taken with the idea that people with CFS are somehow being duped into thinking that they are ill because of the media focus on their condition. She wrote that many CFS patients and their defenders are “hostile to psychiatric or social explanations” of the condition, and that many of them react in a way that is not friendly to the labeling of CFS as “psychiatric” (128). However, the reactions of these same patients make sense if considered from a non-abled perspective. Showalter also seemed completely mystified by these "hostile" reactions. If CFS is just a manifestation of "fin seicle anxiety," as she contended (adding that "emotions have tremendous power over the body") she seemed to push the conclusion--without any scientific or medical proof--that many people with CFS have somehow been brainwashed into believing they have it; thus, the media-driven "hysterical epidemic" has worked.
Nowhere are feminists with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or related conditions consulted; the not-so-feminist implication here is that feminists with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome either do not exist or are just victims of a "hysterical" media-led epidemic and therefore cannot be "real" feminists. This is similar to how trans* feminists were erased, excluded and castigated by Daly as somehow not "real" women or feminists, and as benefiting from patriarchy in a way that "real" women and feminists could not. To put it crudely: This is exclusionary bullcrap, and it does not do trans* people, people with disabilities, feminists who fit either (or both) of these categories, or the feminist movement as a whole any favors whatsoever.
Exclusion is not radical. It has never been radical. It is, in fact, extraordinarily status-quo. No one should be able to arbitrarily pick and choose who "belongs" in the feminist movement and who does not, especially if those who are being excluded because of their gender identity, sexual identity or disability actively identify as feminist. Feminism should be for a wide variety of people; exclusion, however, is something that is not--and has never been--very feminist.
Author's note: I will be moderating this thread with an iron fist; please have the courtesy to not try to tell me how Daly really was an ally to trans* folks, or how Showalter didn't mean what she said about CFS *that* way, or that either author's influence on the feminist movement somehow excuses their hatred and bigotry. Thank you.
[Originally posted at FWD//Feminists With Disabilities]
Showing posts with label personal/political. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal/political. Show all posts
09 January, 2010
18 December, 2009
Son of Guest Blogging
My latest Bitch post--on Supercrip--is up!
I predict that someone will blast me for the Chris Reeve comment at the end of the third full paragraph (even though many disability activists have been taking exception to Reeve's public persona for a long time).
I predict that someone will blast me for the Chris Reeve comment at the end of the third full paragraph (even though many disability activists have been taking exception to Reeve's public persona for a long time).
06 October, 2009
Song of the Moment, or a Follow-Up of Sorts
Diamanda Galas always has an appropriate song for every occasion, especially the ones that involve lots of RAGE. To wit:
And with that, currently able-bodied white privileged feminists, I would like you to know that we will NOT be silent, nor silenced.
Background: here, here, here, here, here, here, and right here.
And with that, currently able-bodied white privileged feminists, I would like you to know that we will NOT be silent, nor silenced.
Background: here, here, here, here, here, here, and right here.
05 October, 2009
Confessions of a Reluctant Young White Feminist
Dear Feministing.com,
Once upon a time, I posted this on my Livejournal: "One day, I will write about my numerous issues with Feministing.com."
Guess what? Today is that day! Lucky you.
Let me introduce myself: I am a feminist, an occasional blogger, a person with disabilities (fibromyalgia, cerebral palsy), and am currently getting my Master's Degree in Women & Gender Studies. I am also white, heterosexual, cisgendered, have a college degree, and am relatively economically privileged. I, at first glance, seem to embody many (stereo)typical qualities of a young, white feminist: from the type of music I enjoy, to how I dress, to the fact that I sometimes wear makeup, and, on occasion, read BUST magazine when I need a break from "serious" literature. Because I am white, I have the choice to ignore issues surrounding race, and those surrounding white privilege. Because I am heterosexual and cisgendered, I can brush off queer and trans issues if I so choose. Because I am white, economically privileged and have a college degree, I can probably rest assured that I will have a job in the future, even with my rather esoteric choice of college major and advanced degree.
One could argue that your site is pretty much made for people like me: the "fun" feminists who can wear makeup and heels [I can't wear heels, but that's for another post], go out and party like it's 1999 [I don't, but that, too, is for another post], and still fight for [their own] rights the next morning. One could argue that your contributors do, in fact, speak for folks like me, and that since they are the face of the fourth wave, I should just be thankful that feminist issues are getting any airtime or page space in the mainstream media at all, and/or that people who look like me are getting book deals.
But here's where our feminisms differ, Feministing.com: I am saddened by your numerous issues when it comes to representing people who are not like you. You all don't have the greatest track record when it comes to race and white privilege, trans issues, disability issues, economic privilege, and a ton of other things that I am probably accidentally leaving out. If someone new to feminism were to look at your website--which, not incidentally, is one of the "top" feminist websites, at least in the U.S.--they might conclude that feminism is a movement that is exclusively for young, white, heterosexual, able-bodied, sexually active, upper-middle-class women. If you know about the history of feminism in the U.S., and I assume that you do, you will see why this is so troubling.
There is more to the feminist movement than fighting for the rights of white women. Feminism is more than allowing your or your commenters' racial, economic, heterosexual, and able-bodied privilege to go totally unchecked. If you are so committed to "intersectionality," as you have claimed several times, where is it? True efforts toward inclusivity and intersectionality constitute more than simply talking about those things, or throwing around whatever blogular buzzword is currently hot, or thinking that droppin' those terms like they are on fire will suffice. There is an enormous chasm of difference between talking about doing something and actually doing it.
There is no gentle way to say this, Feministing.com: You do not speak for me, and I'm not sure that you ever will. I want to give you a chance, but until you actually start to make changes instead of alternately talking about making them and ignoring those of us who have asked you to, it is going to be difficult for me to hold out any hope.
You've already made it clear that I am not like you; apparently, neither are the people who have asked you, time and time again, to take what they have to say seriously, and to make changes accordingly.
You have also made it clear that there is no room for people like me in your version of "fun" feminism. There is no room in your world for my brothers and sisters: feminists and womanists of color, feminists with disabilities, working class feminists, fat feminists, queer and LGBTI feminists, asexual feminists, older feminists, or trans folk.
I understand. Boy, do I understand.
I will end with the following quote from the great Barbara Smith:
"Feminism is the political theory and practice that struggles to free all women: women of color, working-class women, poor women, disabled women, Jewish women, lesbians, old women--as well as white, economically privileged heterosexual women. Anything less than this vision of total freedom is not feminism, but merely female self-aggrandizement." [From "Racism and Women's Studies," 1979]
Sincerely,
Annaham
ETA, 7:27 PM PST: There's been an important update from meloukhia on this whole situation; Anna also has a lovely link roundup.
ETA II: I will be modding the shit out of both this and related posts; leaving trollish or inflammatory comments might spell D-E-L-E-T-I-O-N for you. Don't like it? Don't comment.
Once upon a time, I posted this on my Livejournal: "One day, I will write about my numerous issues with Feministing.com."
Guess what? Today is that day! Lucky you.
Let me introduce myself: I am a feminist, an occasional blogger, a person with disabilities (fibromyalgia, cerebral palsy), and am currently getting my Master's Degree in Women & Gender Studies. I am also white, heterosexual, cisgendered, have a college degree, and am relatively economically privileged. I, at first glance, seem to embody many (stereo)typical qualities of a young, white feminist: from the type of music I enjoy, to how I dress, to the fact that I sometimes wear makeup, and, on occasion, read BUST magazine when I need a break from "serious" literature. Because I am white, I have the choice to ignore issues surrounding race, and those surrounding white privilege. Because I am heterosexual and cisgendered, I can brush off queer and trans issues if I so choose. Because I am white, economically privileged and have a college degree, I can probably rest assured that I will have a job in the future, even with my rather esoteric choice of college major and advanced degree.
One could argue that your site is pretty much made for people like me: the "fun" feminists who can wear makeup and heels [I can't wear heels, but that's for another post], go out and party like it's 1999 [I don't, but that, too, is for another post], and still fight for [their own] rights the next morning. One could argue that your contributors do, in fact, speak for folks like me, and that since they are the face of the fourth wave, I should just be thankful that feminist issues are getting any airtime or page space in the mainstream media at all, and/or that people who look like me are getting book deals.
But here's where our feminisms differ, Feministing.com: I am saddened by your numerous issues when it comes to representing people who are not like you. You all don't have the greatest track record when it comes to race and white privilege, trans issues, disability issues, economic privilege, and a ton of other things that I am probably accidentally leaving out. If someone new to feminism were to look at your website--which, not incidentally, is one of the "top" feminist websites, at least in the U.S.--they might conclude that feminism is a movement that is exclusively for young, white, heterosexual, able-bodied, sexually active, upper-middle-class women. If you know about the history of feminism in the U.S., and I assume that you do, you will see why this is so troubling.
There is more to the feminist movement than fighting for the rights of white women. Feminism is more than allowing your or your commenters' racial, economic, heterosexual, and able-bodied privilege to go totally unchecked. If you are so committed to "intersectionality," as you have claimed several times, where is it? True efforts toward inclusivity and intersectionality constitute more than simply talking about those things, or throwing around whatever blogular buzzword is currently hot, or thinking that droppin' those terms like they are on fire will suffice. There is an enormous chasm of difference between talking about doing something and actually doing it.
There is no gentle way to say this, Feministing.com: You do not speak for me, and I'm not sure that you ever will. I want to give you a chance, but until you actually start to make changes instead of alternately talking about making them and ignoring those of us who have asked you to, it is going to be difficult for me to hold out any hope.
You've already made it clear that I am not like you; apparently, neither are the people who have asked you, time and time again, to take what they have to say seriously, and to make changes accordingly.
You have also made it clear that there is no room for people like me in your version of "fun" feminism. There is no room in your world for my brothers and sisters: feminists and womanists of color, feminists with disabilities, working class feminists, fat feminists, queer and LGBTI feminists, asexual feminists, older feminists, or trans folk.
I understand. Boy, do I understand.
I will end with the following quote from the great Barbara Smith:
"Feminism is the political theory and practice that struggles to free all women: women of color, working-class women, poor women, disabled women, Jewish women, lesbians, old women--as well as white, economically privileged heterosexual women. Anything less than this vision of total freedom is not feminism, but merely female self-aggrandizement." [From "Racism and Women's Studies," 1979]
Sincerely,
Annaham
ETA, 7:27 PM PST: There's been an important update from meloukhia on this whole situation; Anna also has a lovely link roundup.
ETA II: I will be modding the shit out of both this and related posts; leaving trollish or inflammatory comments might spell D-E-L-E-T-I-O-N for you. Don't like it? Don't comment.
28 September, 2009
Objectivity: Its Uses and Abuses
A few months ago (I know it's, like, FOR-EV-ER in internet time, but bear with me, because as I have already explained, I can't update often because of various issues), Amandaw did a series of guest posts at Feministe, and--similar to what happened when she guest-posted last year--people kind of missed the point, and in some cases, did this rather spectacularly, by accusing her of not being "objective" enough in listening to criticism, among other things.
Here's the thing: Objectivity is absolutely, awesomely useful in many areas. The natural and physical sciences are just two areas where it is, understandably, required; quantitative studies in the Humanities are also useful to those of us who do scholarly work in that field.
But when you have such an e-boner for OBJECTIVITY in everything ever that you have to steamroll over peoples' experiences because you have an expert platform from which to do so, and your commentariat feels the need to pipe up about how they, too, have had similar experiences with PWDs and their goddamn bitching and why can't PWDs be more objective?!, then there is a bit of a problem. Specifically, when the entire point of someone's post is how a possible piece of legislation will impact those who need the proposed banned substance the most, being rabid about OBJECTIVITY is probably not the best strategy to take. Personal experience is subjective, and if you insist on screeching OBJECTIVITY OBJECTIVITY WHY CAN'T YOU BE REASONABLE, you are missing the entire point. The whole aim of Amandaw's post on the proposed Percoset and Vicodin ban was to demonstrate exactly why it is (and was) such a terrible idea--using her personal experience as someone with chronic pain to make her point.
If you're going to read the above-linked Skepchick post, I would suggest doing so with caution; one reason why I did not cover this when it happened was because I could not read the above thread without getting extremely upset. I'm going to get slammed for this, because it is not OBJECTIVE enough, but I still can't read through it without getting upset. Here is just a taste of the delightful comments following the post:
[Ridiculous comment by this person; macro by me, because I watched Aliens the other night for approximately the 443rd time.]
Before anyone goes all BUT THEY ARE EXAMINING IT **OBJECTIVELY**, STOP TAKING IT PERSONALLY-robotic on me, please remember: there is no way that I can not take it personally; many of the comments there are hateful toward people with chronic pain, or with disabling chronic pain. If you know anything about disability rights, or anything about social justice, or marginalized groups versus the majority, or even a very basic concept like privilege (and no, the "PWD privilege" argument in the above post is most definitely not what I am talking about here), you will see why this is not good. It does not matter if you hide your contempt for PWDs and chronically ill people behind the guise of OBJECTIVITY--you are still hiding your contempt (and just barely, I might add).
Tell me I'm wrong, skeptical people. Tell me that a (young) disabled feminist atheist like myself has a place in the movement, and not just in the young-white-cute-steamrollering-privileged-feminist subset of the skeptical movement. I wish I could see a place for myself in the movement, but right now, I really can't.
Obligatory, non-OBJECTIVE Disclaimer: This blog is a SAFE SPACE for people with disabilities and chronic illnesses, including chronic pain. If you're going to leave a comment about how one of my responses makes my entire blog/opinion moot, or how people with disabilities need to accommodate non-disabled people in attitude, openness, or helping ABs process their feelings, or that I'm too angry/emotional, or that you, as an able-bodied person, can totally relate and here's a long comment detailing exactly how, please remember that such a comment might not be taken in good faith, and that I might be a jackass to you in return.
Here's the thing: Objectivity is absolutely, awesomely useful in many areas. The natural and physical sciences are just two areas where it is, understandably, required; quantitative studies in the Humanities are also useful to those of us who do scholarly work in that field.
But when you have such an e-boner for OBJECTIVITY in everything ever that you have to steamroll over peoples' experiences because you have an expert platform from which to do so, and your commentariat feels the need to pipe up about how they, too, have had similar experiences with PWDs and their goddamn bitching and why can't PWDs be more objective?!, then there is a bit of a problem. Specifically, when the entire point of someone's post is how a possible piece of legislation will impact those who need the proposed banned substance the most, being rabid about OBJECTIVITY is probably not the best strategy to take. Personal experience is subjective, and if you insist on screeching OBJECTIVITY OBJECTIVITY WHY CAN'T YOU BE REASONABLE, you are missing the entire point. The whole aim of Amandaw's post on the proposed Percoset and Vicodin ban was to demonstrate exactly why it is (and was) such a terrible idea--using her personal experience as someone with chronic pain to make her point.
If you're going to read the above-linked Skepchick post, I would suggest doing so with caution; one reason why I did not cover this when it happened was because I could not read the above thread without getting extremely upset. I'm going to get slammed for this, because it is not OBJECTIVE enough, but I still can't read through it without getting upset. Here is just a taste of the delightful comments following the post:
[Ridiculous comment by this person; macro by me, because I watched Aliens the other night for approximately the 443rd time.]
Before anyone goes all BUT THEY ARE EXAMINING IT **OBJECTIVELY**, STOP TAKING IT PERSONALLY-robotic on me, please remember: there is no way that I can not take it personally; many of the comments there are hateful toward people with chronic pain, or with disabling chronic pain. If you know anything about disability rights, or anything about social justice, or marginalized groups versus the majority, or even a very basic concept like privilege (and no, the "PWD privilege" argument in the above post is most definitely not what I am talking about here), you will see why this is not good. It does not matter if you hide your contempt for PWDs and chronically ill people behind the guise of OBJECTIVITY--you are still hiding your contempt (and just barely, I might add).
Tell me I'm wrong, skeptical people. Tell me that a (young) disabled feminist atheist like myself has a place in the movement, and not just in the young-white-cute-steamrollering-privileged-feminist subset of the skeptical movement. I wish I could see a place for myself in the movement, but right now, I really can't.
Obligatory, non-OBJECTIVE Disclaimer: This blog is a SAFE SPACE for people with disabilities and chronic illnesses, including chronic pain. If you're going to leave a comment about how one of my responses makes my entire blog/opinion moot, or how people with disabilities need to accommodate non-disabled people in attitude, openness, or helping ABs process their feelings, or that I'm too angry/emotional, or that you, as an able-bodied person, can totally relate and here's a long comment detailing exactly how, please remember that such a comment might not be taken in good faith, and that I might be a jackass to you in return.
17 September, 2009
Obligatory NIIAW Post
So, it's National Invisible Illness Awareness Week.
As with all of my disability-related posts, the following applies: This blog is a SAFE SPACE for people with disabilities. If you're going to leave a comment about how one of my responses makes my entire blog/opinion moot, or how people with disabilities need to accommodate non-disabled people in attitude, openness, or helping ABs process their feelings, or that I'm too angry/emotional or not "objective" enough, or that you, as an able-bodied person, can totally relate and here's a long comment detailing exactly how, or that you are concerned about the tone of my post, or that I should "just try" this miracle supplement that totally cured your brother's guy friend's drinking buddy's co-worker, please remember that such a comment might not be taken in good faith, and that I might be a jackass to you in return.
1. The illness I live with is: Fibromyalgia
2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: 2007
3. But I have had symptoms since: 2006
4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: Not being so hard on myself, and also not having too many commitments.
5. Most people assume: That being young means that you cannot have serious health problems, or that I am not "really" disabled. DISABILITY POLICE! WEE OO WEE OO
6. The hardest part about mornings is: Combating joint stiffness
7. My favorite medical TV show is: House
8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: My iPod
9. The hardest part about nights is: Falling asleep without tossing and turning!
10. Each day I take 1 pills & vitamins. [Cymbalta]
11. Regarding alternative treatments I: have tried two that did not work (hypnosis, vitamins) and one that has worked (acupuncture)
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose: I don't know
13. Regarding working and career: Thank FSM that I got financial aid for grad school, because having a job at this point is out of the question.
14. People would be surprised to know: That I'm not as mean in real life as I sound on the internet. No, seriously.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: Peoples' stupidity is harder to deal with than the actual physical pain.
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was: Stand up for myself.
17. The commercials about my illness: Bug the SHIT out of me. Since when can someone with fibro write in perfect cursive? Also, the way that the actors in the ads pronounce "fibromyalgia" makes it sound like a vegetable, not an actual medical condition.
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: Playing guitar :(
19. It was really hard to have to give up: Being able to stay up past 11 PM or so
20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: Cooking!
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: Go see a movie, go shopping, and then go out to eat, because I would be thrilled to be able to do all three in one day without getting exhausted.
22. My illness has taught me: That a lot of people are pretty stupid and subscribe to "if I can't see it, it isn't there/doesn't exist" thinking, but also that illness affects people of all gender identities, races, ethnicities, ages, sexualities, and class backgrounds.
23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: "You should try positive thinking!" Thanks, dipshit.
24. But I love it when people: Are not afraid to admit that there are things about disability that they don't know, without also expecting that I'll play the role of Magical Disabled Person Who Teaches Them a Lesson About Life.
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: "Tomorrow might be better."
26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: It's not the end of the world
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: That people say similar ridiculous things, and that some people keep suggesting "cures" even if I've rebuffed their suggestions before.
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: It's the little things, mostly--asking if I need a break, need to sit down, if there's anything he/she can do, et cetera.
29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because: Awareness just isn't enough; in some cases, it breeds complacency.
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Thankful that I have so many friends who will put up with me!
Find out more about National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week and the 5-day free virtual conference with 20 speakers Sept 14-18, 2009 at www.invisibleillness.com
As with all of my disability-related posts, the following applies: This blog is a SAFE SPACE for people with disabilities. If you're going to leave a comment about how one of my responses makes my entire blog/opinion moot, or how people with disabilities need to accommodate non-disabled people in attitude, openness, or helping ABs process their feelings, or that I'm too angry/emotional or not "objective" enough, or that you, as an able-bodied person, can totally relate and here's a long comment detailing exactly how, or that you are concerned about the tone of my post, or that I should "just try" this miracle supplement that totally cured your brother's guy friend's drinking buddy's co-worker, please remember that such a comment might not be taken in good faith, and that I might be a jackass to you in return.
1. The illness I live with is: Fibromyalgia
2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: 2007
3. But I have had symptoms since: 2006
4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: Not being so hard on myself, and also not having too many commitments.
5. Most people assume: That being young means that you cannot have serious health problems, or that I am not "really" disabled. DISABILITY POLICE! WEE OO WEE OO
6. The hardest part about mornings is: Combating joint stiffness
7. My favorite medical TV show is: House
8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: My iPod
9. The hardest part about nights is: Falling asleep without tossing and turning!
10. Each day I take 1 pills & vitamins. [Cymbalta]
11. Regarding alternative treatments I: have tried two that did not work (hypnosis, vitamins) and one that has worked (acupuncture)
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose: I don't know
13. Regarding working and career: Thank FSM that I got financial aid for grad school, because having a job at this point is out of the question.
14. People would be surprised to know: That I'm not as mean in real life as I sound on the internet. No, seriously.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: Peoples' stupidity is harder to deal with than the actual physical pain.
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was: Stand up for myself.
17. The commercials about my illness: Bug the SHIT out of me. Since when can someone with fibro write in perfect cursive? Also, the way that the actors in the ads pronounce "fibromyalgia" makes it sound like a vegetable, not an actual medical condition.
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: Playing guitar :(
19. It was really hard to have to give up: Being able to stay up past 11 PM or so
20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: Cooking!
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: Go see a movie, go shopping, and then go out to eat, because I would be thrilled to be able to do all three in one day without getting exhausted.
22. My illness has taught me: That a lot of people are pretty stupid and subscribe to "if I can't see it, it isn't there/doesn't exist" thinking, but also that illness affects people of all gender identities, races, ethnicities, ages, sexualities, and class backgrounds.
23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: "You should try positive thinking!" Thanks, dipshit.
24. But I love it when people: Are not afraid to admit that there are things about disability that they don't know, without also expecting that I'll play the role of Magical Disabled Person Who Teaches Them a Lesson About Life.
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: "Tomorrow might be better."
26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: It's not the end of the world
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: That people say similar ridiculous things, and that some people keep suggesting "cures" even if I've rebuffed their suggestions before.
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: It's the little things, mostly--asking if I need a break, need to sit down, if there's anything he/she can do, et cetera.
29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because: Awareness just isn't enough; in some cases, it breeds complacency.
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Thankful that I have so many friends who will put up with me!
Find out more about National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week and the 5-day free virtual conference with 20 speakers Sept 14-18, 2009 at www.invisibleillness.com
13 August, 2009
Not My Type of Feminism, Redux
I wrote this as part of a post I made back in May, but given current goings-on, I think it still applies, and will (unfortunately) probably still apply to certain segments of the blogosphere for quite a while:
I find it [...] difficult to understand why some are so dedicated to holding on to the last vestiges of their privilege, even as they give lip service to things like "inclusion" and "diversity." Neither term holds meaning when used by a certain type "good" mainstream liberal/feminist/et al to describe just how awesome and progressive they themselves are; oftentimes, these words are used to make those in the mainstream feel better about themselves, their privilege(s), and their biases--some of which they just cannot let go.
I want to be optimistic; I want to trust people when they say that they really do want to change, to be more inclusive, to give space to those who may be underrepresented, and that they are actively working on all of these things. There are certain things that I don't want to do, however, and most of the time, this includes being forever mega-understanding and/or fulfilling the role of Magical Invisibly Disabled Girl (I do enough of that when I'm not on the internet, to be frank) ALL OF THE DAMNED TIME. Initially, I responded to a WATRD blogger's comment on yesterday's post by being somewhat conciliatory and providing links to various disability blogs, hoping that she would actually take my suggestions--and this, after many voices have made similar suggestions to boot.
Because of the most recent WATRD post, however, I now feel even less confident that all of the voices who have (thank FSM) spoken up are, in fact, being taken seriously.
A huge part of making changes--whether personal or not--involves a willingness to actually do the work on one's own. It's not just about talking the talk, either. Saying that you will change means nothing if you do not actually make any changes.
I find it [...] difficult to understand why some are so dedicated to holding on to the last vestiges of their privilege, even as they give lip service to things like "inclusion" and "diversity." Neither term holds meaning when used by a certain type "good" mainstream liberal/feminist/et al to describe just how awesome and progressive they themselves are; oftentimes, these words are used to make those in the mainstream feel better about themselves, their privilege(s), and their biases--some of which they just cannot let go.
I want to be optimistic; I want to trust people when they say that they really do want to change, to be more inclusive, to give space to those who may be underrepresented, and that they are actively working on all of these things. There are certain things that I don't want to do, however, and most of the time, this includes being forever mega-understanding and/or fulfilling the role of Magical Invisibly Disabled Girl (I do enough of that when I'm not on the internet, to be frank) ALL OF THE DAMNED TIME. Initially, I responded to a WATRD blogger's comment on yesterday's post by being somewhat conciliatory and providing links to various disability blogs, hoping that she would actually take my suggestions--and this, after many voices have made similar suggestions to boot.
Because of the most recent WATRD post, however, I now feel even less confident that all of the voices who have (thank FSM) spoken up are, in fact, being taken seriously.
A huge part of making changes--whether personal or not--involves a willingness to actually do the work on one's own. It's not just about talking the talk, either. Saying that you will change means nothing if you do not actually make any changes.
12 August, 2009
In which I am counterproductive
02 June, 2009
05 May, 2009
Disability 101!
I've started a series of Disability 101 posts over at FoF, and I'd be thrilled to have you all check out the first entry!
Many thanks to Tigtog for brilliantly starting and keeping up the excellent Finally Feminism 101 blog, which inspired me to start a Dis101 series.
Many thanks to Tigtog for brilliantly starting and keeping up the excellent Finally Feminism 101 blog, which inspired me to start a Dis101 series.
03 May, 2009
The Drug Thing
Recently, I have been thinking about how I was pretty harsh to one particular commenter on IIB I. In retrospect, I realize that my comparison of smoking pot to gambling was unfair, and am working on a version of IIB I that both shifts the wording a bit and is a bit “neater” graphic-wise (yes, I have finally figured out how to make straight lines in Photoshop!).
However, there is still something that I have an issue with as far as the whole “pot has been tested by science and you should [do something] to keep an open mind/reflect this in your post!” argument goes: Many of the people from whom I have heard this argument from are not dealing with disability or chronic illness. In my rather limited experience, this tactic seems like the whole abled-bodied-people knowing what is “best” for PWDs in every circumstance thing yet again—-particularly when the ABs' “well-meaning” advice has to do with exactly which treatments the PWD should or should not be pursuing.
I am aware that pot does work for many people with chronic pain, and I am not opposed to people using it if it works for them. What I do take exception to is the insinuation—again, mostly from able-bodied people who are unaware of my family history of addiction (this is what has made me personally uncomfortable with the use of illegal substances for my own pain relief)—that I, as a person with a disability, do not know what is best for me when it comes to pain management. As I have said before, there is no substance that is miraculous for everyone who tries it—not booze, not pot, not the medicines that I myself take (Cymbalta and, on occasion, Vicodin). When people imply that I should just keep an open mind about this treatment, or think about trying that one because it has worked for someone they know, or that my personal experiences with people who are “just trying to help” by suggesting all kinds of things somehow renders my other points moot, I tend to get angry. My patience runs out, because I deal with these “well-meaning” suggestions quite often, and find that I must also manage some folks’ feelings when they are hurt that I don’t throw myself at their feet with gratitude for every single suggestion, whether that suggestion relates to the use of vitamins, recreational drugs or “positive” thinking.
As Amandaw so gracefully puts it:
I don’t know what the hell is going on in the life of the next chronic pain patient you might meet. That’s the point. You just don’t know. You don’t have the slightest concept of what their background is or how their body works or what they’ve tried before. So why do you assume it’s totally benign to throw this in their face? Why are you acting as though you know their body, their history, their experiences better than they do?
Do I have the time to detail everything above every time someone “helpfully” informs me that marijuana can be good for pain relief? Should I have to reveal all this stuff to total strangers, or even acquaintances, coworkers, casual friends? Even if all this stuff wasn’t there, and I just didn’t feel like using it: why can’t I have that decision respected?
Not everyone will relate to all of the spaces on the Bingo cards; though I have tried to construct them so that as many of the spaces as possible are (in general) applicable to the experiences of people with invisible disabilities and chronic illnesses, this does not mean that I will radically change them based on the opinions of apparently able-bodied people who are, of course, only trying to help.
However, there is still something that I have an issue with as far as the whole “pot has been tested by science and you should [do something] to keep an open mind/reflect this in your post!” argument goes: Many of the people from whom I have heard this argument from are not dealing with disability or chronic illness. In my rather limited experience, this tactic seems like the whole abled-bodied-people knowing what is “best” for PWDs in every circumstance thing yet again—-particularly when the ABs' “well-meaning” advice has to do with exactly which treatments the PWD should or should not be pursuing.
I am aware that pot does work for many people with chronic pain, and I am not opposed to people using it if it works for them. What I do take exception to is the insinuation—again, mostly from able-bodied people who are unaware of my family history of addiction (this is what has made me personally uncomfortable with the use of illegal substances for my own pain relief)—that I, as a person with a disability, do not know what is best for me when it comes to pain management. As I have said before, there is no substance that is miraculous for everyone who tries it—not booze, not pot, not the medicines that I myself take (Cymbalta and, on occasion, Vicodin). When people imply that I should just keep an open mind about this treatment, or think about trying that one because it has worked for someone they know, or that my personal experiences with people who are “just trying to help” by suggesting all kinds of things somehow renders my other points moot, I tend to get angry. My patience runs out, because I deal with these “well-meaning” suggestions quite often, and find that I must also manage some folks’ feelings when they are hurt that I don’t throw myself at their feet with gratitude for every single suggestion, whether that suggestion relates to the use of vitamins, recreational drugs or “positive” thinking.
As Amandaw so gracefully puts it:
I don’t know what the hell is going on in the life of the next chronic pain patient you might meet. That’s the point. You just don’t know. You don’t have the slightest concept of what their background is or how their body works or what they’ve tried before. So why do you assume it’s totally benign to throw this in their face? Why are you acting as though you know their body, their history, their experiences better than they do?
Do I have the time to detail everything above every time someone “helpfully” informs me that marijuana can be good for pain relief? Should I have to reveal all this stuff to total strangers, or even acquaintances, coworkers, casual friends? Even if all this stuff wasn’t there, and I just didn’t feel like using it: why can’t I have that decision respected?
Not everyone will relate to all of the spaces on the Bingo cards; though I have tried to construct them so that as many of the spaces as possible are (in general) applicable to the experiences of people with invisible disabilities and chronic illnesses, this does not mean that I will radically change them based on the opinions of apparently able-bodied people who are, of course, only trying to help.
17 April, 2009
Even MORE Epic Privilege Fail, This Time From a Fellow Feminist
Well, looks like someone's already committed parts of Derailing For Dummies to memory.
Seriously, what the in the high holy fuck is feminist about what pretty much amounts to "Ann Coulter is a transsexual, DUR HURRRRRR"? Oh, right, it's supposed to be "snarky" and "ironic." Sort of like the Jezebel twits and their hard-hitting stances on a number of controversial issues, or something. Oh, and both the Jezes and the blogger linked above have also issued fauxpologies, which seem to have the not-so-subtle-message of "LA LA LA IT WAS JUST A JOKE, LIGHTEN UP!" Yeah, that totally helps.
I wish I could be more coherent, but this sort of shit astounds me, and the fact that it keeps happening makes it worse.
Seriously, what the in the high holy fuck is feminist about what pretty much amounts to "Ann Coulter is a transsexual, DUR HURRRRRR"? Oh, right, it's supposed to be "snarky" and "ironic." Sort of like the Jezebel twits and their hard-hitting stances on a number of controversial issues, or something. Oh, and both the Jezes and the blogger linked above have also issued fauxpologies, which seem to have the not-so-subtle-message of "LA LA LA IT WAS JUST A JOKE, LIGHTEN UP!" Yeah, that totally helps.
I wish I could be more coherent, but this sort of shit astounds me, and the fact that it keeps happening makes it worse.
31 March, 2009
I Don't Know What to Call This
The singer Martha Wainwright has a song entitled "Bleeding All Over You" that begins with the following set of lyrics:
There are days
when the cage doesn't
seem to open very wide at all
I know it sounds negative, but some days, I can definitely relate. Maybe it's the fact that I pass fairly regularly as able-bodied--at least in public spaces--or maybe it's my failure at passing on my worst days that makes me relate. As much as I hate to rely upon the old trope of the person-with-disability as trapped by her own unruly body, it, like many tropes, has a sliver of truth to it.
When I am in public, I often fear that other people--more able-bodied people--can "spot" my disability. On a purely surface level, this makes no sense. Part of what makes passing such an interesting topic is the fact that, on some level, the individual who passes can hide something and look as if she or he is a part of another group, despite some (invisible) evidence that would suggest otherwise. I realize also that not everyone has the ability to pass--that passing, in itself, is a privilege. The ability to appear to be something that one is not (often as a member of a more privileged group) is not something that absolutely everyone has.
Today, I sat in a restaurant and ate a light lunch very, very slowly because my right hand was unable to hold the fork without considerable muscle pain in my tendons and wrist. This sort of thing happens rarely, but when it does, I get nervous. I become nervous because I think that my fellow diners, or students, or whomever, can pick up on my not-immediately-obvious physical difference(s) from something that is only slightly "off." Even using a term like "off" is problematic; it implies that there is something wrong, that the person who needs to take time to do some of the things that others may take for granted needs to be fixed, somehow; that, or she needs to "fix" herself (by minimizing/masking her pain or ability or dis-ability) so that she may fit in and continue to pass.
So, are my restrained grimaces due to pain--when I am in public spaces, that is-- restrained because I, deep down, want to continue passing? Is it because I would be embarrassed to show my pain around strangers? Is it out of rather ridiculous consideration(s) of the "comfort" level of strangers (ie: the social assumption that one should never make people uncomfortable, even if one is in pain)? Does a "stiff upper lip," so to speak, actually do anyone a favor? I'd argue that the whole "keep your pain to yourself" thing might arise from a very deep fear of individuals with disabilities, but that's probably best saved for another post.
There are days
when the cage doesn't
seem to open very wide at all
I know it sounds negative, but some days, I can definitely relate. Maybe it's the fact that I pass fairly regularly as able-bodied--at least in public spaces--or maybe it's my failure at passing on my worst days that makes me relate. As much as I hate to rely upon the old trope of the person-with-disability as trapped by her own unruly body, it, like many tropes, has a sliver of truth to it.
When I am in public, I often fear that other people--more able-bodied people--can "spot" my disability. On a purely surface level, this makes no sense. Part of what makes passing such an interesting topic is the fact that, on some level, the individual who passes can hide something and look as if she or he is a part of another group, despite some (invisible) evidence that would suggest otherwise. I realize also that not everyone has the ability to pass--that passing, in itself, is a privilege. The ability to appear to be something that one is not (often as a member of a more privileged group) is not something that absolutely everyone has.
Today, I sat in a restaurant and ate a light lunch very, very slowly because my right hand was unable to hold the fork without considerable muscle pain in my tendons and wrist. This sort of thing happens rarely, but when it does, I get nervous. I become nervous because I think that my fellow diners, or students, or whomever, can pick up on my not-immediately-obvious physical difference(s) from something that is only slightly "off." Even using a term like "off" is problematic; it implies that there is something wrong, that the person who needs to take time to do some of the things that others may take for granted needs to be fixed, somehow; that, or she needs to "fix" herself (by minimizing/masking her pain or ability or dis-ability) so that she may fit in and continue to pass.
So, are my restrained grimaces due to pain--when I am in public spaces, that is-- restrained because I, deep down, want to continue passing? Is it because I would be embarrassed to show my pain around strangers? Is it out of rather ridiculous consideration(s) of the "comfort" level of strangers (ie: the social assumption that one should never make people uncomfortable, even if one is in pain)? Does a "stiff upper lip," so to speak, actually do anyone a favor? I'd argue that the whole "keep your pain to yourself" thing might arise from a very deep fear of individuals with disabilities, but that's probably best saved for another post.
27 March, 2009
Time and Energy, Or Lack Thereof
This amazing post and its follow-up by Anna at Trouble in China have got me thinking. [In the interest of full disclosure, my Shakesville post is in there as an example of the problematic nature of inclusiveness.]
Whenever I mention this blog in, say, a contributor's or artist's bio, I nearly always include the qualifier "sporadically updated." Regular readers will know that this is partially my style--the dash of self-deprecation--but it masks something else. Namely: I very rarely have the energy to write a whole blog post, to respond to comments, or, hell, to comment on other blogs with wit and insight. This does not mean that I do not exist. It only means that I, quite simply, don't always have the mental or physical energy to contribute to a medium that is, by and large, designed in favor of the non-disabled.
Before the inevitable questions of "why don't you just quit?" arise, I keep and have kept this space for a very specific reason: I cannot just give up. Certainly, there are better writers out there than me. There are better blogs. I have blog friends who are more articulate, more stylistically clever; some of these folks who blog more, or have more readers. Yet I know that the blogosphere is a bit wicked in that one is only as good as her or his last post (to use a worn cliche). Some of us can crank out quality posts nearly every day. Many of us cannot.
I often cannot keep up with a 'sphere in which other voices--more able voices--have the luxury of time and actual emotional/physical energy to blog. The conspiracy theorist in me wants to chalk this up to the blogosphere's--and to a lesser extent, the internet's--design as yet another space where able-bodied folks can "fit," and can be "productive" in terms of number and quality of posts. For all the talk of the internet as a utopia where one is free to not be embodied, the same old shit seems to keep coming up, along with the big ol' Cthuluphant in the room: that the world is designed for able-bodied (and preferably white, straight, middle-class, and male) individuals. Productivity, fitting in, responding quickly: These are things that non-able-bodied folks may not be able to do, whether because of issues of time, energy, ease of access, or many other factors. What happens when one cannot type because of searing pain in her hands, wrists, arms? What happens when one finds that he is too brain-fogged to write a post, much less comment on an existing post that many other people have already commented upon? When one is confined to bed because of nausea or all-over pain that forces her to lie for hours, staring at the ceiling, doing nothing because it's all too much? What happens is that much-needed voices are not part of the conversation. They are lost, but not because they are not there.
This is shameful. There is no other word for it.
Do I know where to begin in pursuit of a solution? No.
Does anyone? I am not sure. I would like to hope that someone does, but I remain unsure.
We're here. You just might not know it, yet.
Whenever I mention this blog in, say, a contributor's or artist's bio, I nearly always include the qualifier "sporadically updated." Regular readers will know that this is partially my style--the dash of self-deprecation--but it masks something else. Namely: I very rarely have the energy to write a whole blog post, to respond to comments, or, hell, to comment on other blogs with wit and insight. This does not mean that I do not exist. It only means that I, quite simply, don't always have the mental or physical energy to contribute to a medium that is, by and large, designed in favor of the non-disabled.
Before the inevitable questions of "why don't you just quit?" arise, I keep and have kept this space for a very specific reason: I cannot just give up. Certainly, there are better writers out there than me. There are better blogs. I have blog friends who are more articulate, more stylistically clever; some of these folks who blog more, or have more readers. Yet I know that the blogosphere is a bit wicked in that one is only as good as her or his last post (to use a worn cliche). Some of us can crank out quality posts nearly every day. Many of us cannot.
I often cannot keep up with a 'sphere in which other voices--more able voices--have the luxury of time and actual emotional/physical energy to blog. The conspiracy theorist in me wants to chalk this up to the blogosphere's--and to a lesser extent, the internet's--design as yet another space where able-bodied folks can "fit," and can be "productive" in terms of number and quality of posts. For all the talk of the internet as a utopia where one is free to not be embodied, the same old shit seems to keep coming up, along with the big ol' Cthuluphant in the room: that the world is designed for able-bodied (and preferably white, straight, middle-class, and male) individuals. Productivity, fitting in, responding quickly: These are things that non-able-bodied folks may not be able to do, whether because of issues of time, energy, ease of access, or many other factors. What happens when one cannot type because of searing pain in her hands, wrists, arms? What happens when one finds that he is too brain-fogged to write a post, much less comment on an existing post that many other people have already commented upon? When one is confined to bed because of nausea or all-over pain that forces her to lie for hours, staring at the ceiling, doing nothing because it's all too much? What happens is that much-needed voices are not part of the conversation. They are lost, but not because they are not there.
This is shameful. There is no other word for it.
Do I know where to begin in pursuit of a solution? No.
Does anyone? I am not sure. I would like to hope that someone does, but I remain unsure.
We're here. You just might not know it, yet.
19 February, 2009
Bad Poetry Corner with Annaham
Hello, readers! I have a very spur-of-the-nanosecond piece of poetry for you, written by yours truly and inspired by recent events both in the blogosphere (a great take on it by Bfp is here and not.
for what it's worth (dust)
i have to stop spending so much time in the 'net
but will that make the knot in my stomach go away?
it might just fester, and rot into a clump of some forgotten sticky cobwebs
some of those who say "i want to understand"
or
"i am not trying to silence you"
are just looking to cover themselves
and loop back to the same points they've made, over and over and over
and
over
and
over the course of threading some damn fancy eagle scout-style knots
reconfirm the biases, the mental wheel-ruts to which they're accustomed
what they really mean is
"just shut up and listen to me
because i know what i am talking about, even if what i am talking about
happens to be your experience"
it's the same old thing:
"your post offended me. i am a [name of privileged group] and i am not like that at all"
"i'm trying to be consciously racist, therefore i am not a racist"
"he's not trying to be consciously ableist, therefore he is not ableist"
"but listen: this piece/this cartoon/my opinion/the statistic that i just pulled out of my ass was not intended to be racist, therefore i should get a pass."
they say, sounding concerned for you via bits and bytes and letters
after all: they are only trying to help!
and wouldn't you be easier to listen to if you weren't so "angry" or "militant" or "negative"
or whatever dust they can flick off of themselves and onto you?
the dust will, as dust is wont to do, settle.
and no one is safe from it.
i have to stop spending so much time in the 'net
but will that make the knot in my stomach go away?
it might just fester, and rot into a clump of some forgotten sticky cobwebs
some of those who say "i want to understand"
or
"i am not trying to silence you"
are just looking to cover themselves
and loop back to the same points they've made, over and over and over
and
over
and
over the course of threading some damn fancy eagle scout-style knots
reconfirm the biases, the mental wheel-ruts to which they're accustomed
what they really mean is
"just shut up and listen to me
because i know what i am talking about, even if what i am talking about
happens to be your experience"
it's the same old thing:
"your post offended me. i am a [name of privileged group] and i am not like that at all"
"i'm trying to be consciously racist, therefore i am not a racist"
"he's not trying to be consciously ableist, therefore he is not ableist"
"but listen: this piece/this cartoon/my opinion/the statistic that i just pulled out of my ass was not intended to be racist, therefore i should get a pass."
they say, sounding concerned for you via bits and bytes and letters
after all: they are only trying to help!
and wouldn't you be easier to listen to if you weren't so "angry" or "militant" or "negative"
or whatever dust they can flick off of themselves and onto you?
the dust will, as dust is wont to do, settle.
and no one is safe from it.
10 February, 2009
Joining the Privilege Pile-On?
I still have no idea what I think about this post. Normally, I very much enjoy Courtney Martin's writing, but this post, to me, screamed of privilege. I know she works hard, and consistently produces high-quality writing. The aforementioned post is not that. Am I supposed to feel envious of her lifestyle? Should I commiserate with her over the "email black hole"? Wish that I, too, could start my day at 11:00 AM? I am baffled.
I have long maintained that the feminist blogosphere has a fairly large number of blind spots (my use of this phrase is NOT intended to be ableist); if you read this blog regularly, you are probably aware that I consider disability to be one of these privilege(d) blind spots. Increasingly, as Lauren has pointed out, class position and work--particularly in this economic climate--are two others. I myself am not immune to worrying about the state of our economy--though I benefit from enormous privilege now (including familial and monetary support, having school as my primary "job," and health insurance, among other things), it is entirely possible that I will need to find employment that is not in the academic field in the coming months, when I have my completed BA degree in hand. [I have included the qualifier "entirely possible" because I am still waiting to hear from several graduate programs to which I have applied.]
Due to my disability, I am physically unable to work full time. The most I can do without depleting all of my available energy is about 30 hours per week. I am aware that it will be a challenge for me to find a job where I can work that amount of time and still be able to support myself; it is unlikely that starting work at 11:00 AM, checking email throughout the day, and eating "overpriced" sushi will be part of such a job. That is fine with me; what I take issue with is Martin's seemingly blatant disregard for those who may not be as lucky as she is. The tone of her post makes it appear that she is, for lack of a better word, "set." Some folks in the feminist blogosphere who may be in similar situations would do well to remember that this is not the case for many people.
I have long maintained that the feminist blogosphere has a fairly large number of blind spots (my use of this phrase is NOT intended to be ableist); if you read this blog regularly, you are probably aware that I consider disability to be one of these privilege(d) blind spots. Increasingly, as Lauren has pointed out, class position and work--particularly in this economic climate--are two others. I myself am not immune to worrying about the state of our economy--though I benefit from enormous privilege now (including familial and monetary support, having school as my primary "job," and health insurance, among other things), it is entirely possible that I will need to find employment that is not in the academic field in the coming months, when I have my completed BA degree in hand. [I have included the qualifier "entirely possible" because I am still waiting to hear from several graduate programs to which I have applied.]
Due to my disability, I am physically unable to work full time. The most I can do without depleting all of my available energy is about 30 hours per week. I am aware that it will be a challenge for me to find a job where I can work that amount of time and still be able to support myself; it is unlikely that starting work at 11:00 AM, checking email throughout the day, and eating "overpriced" sushi will be part of such a job. That is fine with me; what I take issue with is Martin's seemingly blatant disregard for those who may not be as lucky as she is. The tone of her post makes it appear that she is, for lack of a better word, "set." Some folks in the feminist blogosphere who may be in similar situations would do well to remember that this is not the case for many people.
11 September, 2008
The 9/11 Post
The more I attempt to think about 9/11, the less I am convinced that things "changed forever" on that day for the country.
Certainly, those who lost someone on that day had their lives irrevocably affected, as have those who have lost someone because of the dubious wars that directly resulted from 9/11. I don't dispute that at all. What I do dispute is the assertion that "9/11 changed everything" or "united us all as Americans."
What I have noticed is that the people in power have made changes to things that now piss a lot of people off; those in power have, effectively, missed their chance to make changes in our society that will actually make things better for people. Eradicating sexism, racism, homophobia, poverty, and related evils are just not important; "stronger" security checkpoints at airports and color-coded alert charts (to let us know how freaked out we should be) are more important.
I have seen no such "unity" in America. If you do not support or contribute to the people in power in this country, they do not care about you. One example of this was Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath. Those who have the most power in this country do not care about helping anyone but their own. If you are female, if you are not white, if you are not 100% heterosexual, if your gender identity is outside of the two options prescribed by society, if you are poor, or ill, or disabled, or do not subscribe to the doctrines of uber-fundamentalist Christianity, if you are for reproductive choice, if you are fat, if you are a feminist/womanist, if you do not have health insurance or need health care that is not rudimentary, if you require federal assistance/welfare, if you do not support the theory of intelligent design, if you work for the public school system, if you are an immigrant, if English is not your first language, if you are a war veteran, if you are unemployed, if you are lower or middle-class, if you are an intellectual, if you are a scientist who does not bow to governmental or corporate pressures, if you are a person who is perceived as being "too entitled" or "too angry" for being a non-white/woman/homosexual/disabled/poor person--those in power right now do not have your best interests at heart. American "unity" is, at best, an aspiration; at worst, it is a complete lie. Supporting only the incredibly wealthy and the lucky is not unity: it is treasonous to the true spirit of this country.
The myth that we are a "post-race" or "post-gender" society has also grown since 9/11. The one problem with this myth is that it is simply untrue. Any member of a minority group who has come of age in American society knows this. Unfortunately, the "post" myth is spread far and wide by those in power and those who support them. Take, for example, Sarah Palin. She may be female, but she is not a feminist. She is acceptable as a female candidate for a powerful international position because she does not threaten the status quo: she is pretty, she is intensely right-wing, and she presents herself as "just a hockey mom." She fulfills several stereotypical white female roles: mother, accidental-public-figure-but-not-really and masturbation fodder. She is a shining paragon of unattainable femininity and female power, without any of that messy, entitled feminism stuff. She is radical in the sense that her policies are arch-conservative. She is a lion in a zebra suit.
The same lions in zebra suits are running the country now, and using 9/11 over and over again until we don't dare question that it was a day that "changed everything." Sadly, it feels like very little has changed. We are still as selfish and faux-innocent ("Why do they hate us?") as ever. We can go fight a war based on extremely dubious premises, but we cannot care for our own people in their times of need (see: economic recession, Hurricane Katrina). We can talk out of our asses about human rights in other countries, yet we can still torture people, or detain them, and it's okay because we are America. We can use 9/11 as a political and rhetorical tool, yet accuse our ideological opposites of doing the same crass thing.
Welcome to America: We almost learned a great big lesson, once. Unfortunately, it didn't ever stick.
Certainly, those who lost someone on that day had their lives irrevocably affected, as have those who have lost someone because of the dubious wars that directly resulted from 9/11. I don't dispute that at all. What I do dispute is the assertion that "9/11 changed everything" or "united us all as Americans."
What I have noticed is that the people in power have made changes to things that now piss a lot of people off; those in power have, effectively, missed their chance to make changes in our society that will actually make things better for people. Eradicating sexism, racism, homophobia, poverty, and related evils are just not important; "stronger" security checkpoints at airports and color-coded alert charts (to let us know how freaked out we should be) are more important.
I have seen no such "unity" in America. If you do not support or contribute to the people in power in this country, they do not care about you. One example of this was Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath. Those who have the most power in this country do not care about helping anyone but their own. If you are female, if you are not white, if you are not 100% heterosexual, if your gender identity is outside of the two options prescribed by society, if you are poor, or ill, or disabled, or do not subscribe to the doctrines of uber-fundamentalist Christianity, if you are for reproductive choice, if you are fat, if you are a feminist/womanist, if you do not have health insurance or need health care that is not rudimentary, if you require federal assistance/welfare, if you do not support the theory of intelligent design, if you work for the public school system, if you are an immigrant, if English is not your first language, if you are a war veteran, if you are unemployed, if you are lower or middle-class, if you are an intellectual, if you are a scientist who does not bow to governmental or corporate pressures, if you are a person who is perceived as being "too entitled" or "too angry" for being a non-white/woman/homosexual/disabled/poor person--those in power right now do not have your best interests at heart. American "unity" is, at best, an aspiration; at worst, it is a complete lie. Supporting only the incredibly wealthy and the lucky is not unity: it is treasonous to the true spirit of this country.
The myth that we are a "post-race" or "post-gender" society has also grown since 9/11. The one problem with this myth is that it is simply untrue. Any member of a minority group who has come of age in American society knows this. Unfortunately, the "post" myth is spread far and wide by those in power and those who support them. Take, for example, Sarah Palin. She may be female, but she is not a feminist. She is acceptable as a female candidate for a powerful international position because she does not threaten the status quo: she is pretty, she is intensely right-wing, and she presents herself as "just a hockey mom." She fulfills several stereotypical white female roles: mother, accidental-public-figure-but-not-really and masturbation fodder. She is a shining paragon of unattainable femininity and female power, without any of that messy, entitled feminism stuff. She is radical in the sense that her policies are arch-conservative. She is a lion in a zebra suit.
The same lions in zebra suits are running the country now, and using 9/11 over and over again until we don't dare question that it was a day that "changed everything." Sadly, it feels like very little has changed. We are still as selfish and faux-innocent ("Why do they hate us?") as ever. We can go fight a war based on extremely dubious premises, but we cannot care for our own people in their times of need (see: economic recession, Hurricane Katrina). We can talk out of our asses about human rights in other countries, yet we can still torture people, or detain them, and it's okay because we are America. We can use 9/11 as a political and rhetorical tool, yet accuse our ideological opposites of doing the same crass thing.
Welcome to America: We almost learned a great big lesson, once. Unfortunately, it didn't ever stick.
22 August, 2008
I AM Entitled, Actually...
First, a question: Is there something in the air that has brought the concern trollz out in full force lately around the internet, particularly in progressive and/or feminist blogs?
Cara at Feministe did a great job of analyzing this horrific story about a woman with MS who was forced to crawl off of the Delta flight she was on after it landed, due entirely to the incompetence of the airline's employees.
From the second comment, the faux-cern started:
However, you also hear about these things all the time, so can you really blame people for being cold and weary of being “called into action”? And it’s not like all disabled people are saints- I’ve encountered a few that acted like they deserved more entitlements than the rest of the world just because they happen to have a mild defect that puts them in a wheelchair.
Really? I can't remember the last time I heard about something so epically horrendous. Maybe it's because I myself have a disability and have seen (and experienced) the disrespect/hatred that some able-bodied folks level at PWDs. Such treatment happens on a much smaller scale most of the time, and that is why most people don't hear about it.
Truly, this comment sounds like it was written by someone with almost zero experience with disability, chronic and/or dangerous health conditions, or actual people with disabilities--except for, ya know, all of those people this commenter has met who were in wheelchairs and acted so awful and angry and entitled and what have you, all because of their mild defects. They must have a lot of nerve to suggest that they deserve to be treated like normal human beings!
If you are sick of being "called into action," then you have a choice: Stay in your house and avoid human contact altogether. That way, you won't have any of us pesky, entitled disabled people whining for assistance and special treatment!
Here's the thing: I have a disability. I am also human. Like most other disabled folks, I am not a saint. I am certainly not a Super-Crip--I'm not here to make folks like the above commenter feel inspired and/or grateful to be alive and able-bodied. Like other human beings, I experience complicated, occasionally "messy" feelings such as anger. Like most human beings, I also realize that there are times and places for these feelings. However, I am still entitled to my feelings, and I am entitled to being treated like a human being instead of a (sometimes) walking stereotype--whether that stereotype is the Saint Crip, Super Crip or Token Crip.
All of us disabled folks are entitled to human treatment. We are not here for your inspiration. We are not here to make you feel better about yourself, or more superior to others because you can count us as "examples" of human potential. We are not here to make you feel like a hero because you're "just trying to help" by pushing our wheelchair, or recommending some weird-ass treatment for our condition(s) that totally helped your co-worker's brother's girlfriend. You are not superior to us, and we are not superior to you, though you may wish that one or the other could be the case.
We are human, and many of us would like to be treated as such, instead of dismissed as too much of some human quality, or qualities--too angry, too entitled, too un-able.
Cara at Feministe did a great job of analyzing this horrific story about a woman with MS who was forced to crawl off of the Delta flight she was on after it landed, due entirely to the incompetence of the airline's employees.
From the second comment, the faux-cern started:
However, you also hear about these things all the time, so can you really blame people for being cold and weary of being “called into action”? And it’s not like all disabled people are saints- I’ve encountered a few that acted like they deserved more entitlements than the rest of the world just because they happen to have a mild defect that puts them in a wheelchair.
Really? I can't remember the last time I heard about something so epically horrendous. Maybe it's because I myself have a disability and have seen (and experienced) the disrespect/hatred that some able-bodied folks level at PWDs. Such treatment happens on a much smaller scale most of the time, and that is why most people don't hear about it.
Truly, this comment sounds like it was written by someone with almost zero experience with disability, chronic and/or dangerous health conditions, or actual people with disabilities--except for, ya know, all of those people this commenter has met who were in wheelchairs and acted so awful and angry and entitled and what have you, all because of their mild defects. They must have a lot of nerve to suggest that they deserve to be treated like normal human beings!
If you are sick of being "called into action," then you have a choice: Stay in your house and avoid human contact altogether. That way, you won't have any of us pesky, entitled disabled people whining for assistance and special treatment!
Here's the thing: I have a disability. I am also human. Like most other disabled folks, I am not a saint. I am certainly not a Super-Crip--I'm not here to make folks like the above commenter feel inspired and/or grateful to be alive and able-bodied. Like other human beings, I experience complicated, occasionally "messy" feelings such as anger. Like most human beings, I also realize that there are times and places for these feelings. However, I am still entitled to my feelings, and I am entitled to being treated like a human being instead of a (sometimes) walking stereotype--whether that stereotype is the Saint Crip, Super Crip or Token Crip.
All of us disabled folks are entitled to human treatment. We are not here for your inspiration. We are not here to make you feel better about yourself, or more superior to others because you can count us as "examples" of human potential. We are not here to make you feel like a hero because you're "just trying to help" by pushing our wheelchair, or recommending some weird-ass treatment for our condition(s) that totally helped your co-worker's brother's girlfriend. You are not superior to us, and we are not superior to you, though you may wish that one or the other could be the case.
We are human, and many of us would like to be treated as such, instead of dismissed as too much of some human quality, or qualities--too angry, too entitled, too un-able.
07 August, 2008
Anger as a Constructive Force
I'm sure that many of you have heard variations on the following:
"You're just too angry. Your anger alienates people/potential allies and might make them afraid to associate with you! They won't want to be on your side because of your anger."
This statement, or a variation thereof, is often wielded at feminists, people of color (particularly women of color) radical progressives, non-mainstream members of the LGBTIQA community, disabled and chronically ill folks, atheists, fat acceptance activists, and others in order to get them to capitulate to some weird, unseen social standard that requires that they not offend anyone even as they fight to be heard and taken seriously, as well as for social and political justice.
There is a difference between being angry for its own sake, and turning one's anger into action. For whatever reason, mainstream Western culture has decided that people who have historically been put down, devalued and mistreated by those in the majority should fight for their rights, but they should "be nice" while they do so. The messages that historically devalued groups have to get across, even if said messages are quite radical, should apparently be palatable even to the people who have the most social currency in mainstream society. What's radical about that?
Anger makes people fundamentally uncomfortable, and I think that this discomfort often discourages constructive work. When those who need to express their anger, somehow, are not allowed to do so, the anger can become toxic. Instead of a catalyst for change, it becomes a symptom of a missed opportunity.
My own anger is something that I've just begun to embrace after years of stuffing it down and having it reappear at other times, often to my own detriment. Certainly, I may be too angry. I may indeed alienate people with some of my words. However, do I really want those who cannot "handle" what I have to say as allies, if I have to add, for example, rainbows and unicorns and puppies to my outlook on the world in order to make my outlook more palatable? No.
Anger, if used in a constructive manner, can be a great creative force. Most of the cartoons that I draw and have drawn start or started as brief doodles about things that make me or have made me angry. When I can create something that has been inspired by my own strong feelings, I feel much better and more able to cope with things such as my illness, and the physical pain and fatigue that come with it. When I take the opposite tack--that is, when I hold my anger in and don't do anything with it--I feel worse.
The mislabeling of anger as somehow not constructive or totally alienating to "allies" also reveals quite a bit of misunderstanding of social privilege, but I'll get into that in my next post.
"You're just too angry. Your anger alienates people/potential allies and might make them afraid to associate with you! They won't want to be on your side because of your anger."
This statement, or a variation thereof, is often wielded at feminists, people of color (particularly women of color) radical progressives, non-mainstream members of the LGBTIQA community, disabled and chronically ill folks, atheists, fat acceptance activists, and others in order to get them to capitulate to some weird, unseen social standard that requires that they not offend anyone even as they fight to be heard and taken seriously, as well as for social and political justice.
There is a difference between being angry for its own sake, and turning one's anger into action. For whatever reason, mainstream Western culture has decided that people who have historically been put down, devalued and mistreated by those in the majority should fight for their rights, but they should "be nice" while they do so. The messages that historically devalued groups have to get across, even if said messages are quite radical, should apparently be palatable even to the people who have the most social currency in mainstream society. What's radical about that?
Anger makes people fundamentally uncomfortable, and I think that this discomfort often discourages constructive work. When those who need to express their anger, somehow, are not allowed to do so, the anger can become toxic. Instead of a catalyst for change, it becomes a symptom of a missed opportunity.
My own anger is something that I've just begun to embrace after years of stuffing it down and having it reappear at other times, often to my own detriment. Certainly, I may be too angry. I may indeed alienate people with some of my words. However, do I really want those who cannot "handle" what I have to say as allies, if I have to add, for example, rainbows and unicorns and puppies to my outlook on the world in order to make my outlook more palatable? No.
Anger, if used in a constructive manner, can be a great creative force. Most of the cartoons that I draw and have drawn start or started as brief doodles about things that make me or have made me angry. When I can create something that has been inspired by my own strong feelings, I feel much better and more able to cope with things such as my illness, and the physical pain and fatigue that come with it. When I take the opposite tack--that is, when I hold my anger in and don't do anything with it--I feel worse.
The mislabeling of anger as somehow not constructive or totally alienating to "allies" also reveals quite a bit of misunderstanding of social privilege, but I'll get into that in my next post.
26 February, 2008
Y HALLO THAR LAZY POST
Lindsay over at BABble has an interesting thought:
They want us to change our bodies because they think it's easier than changing their minds.
My riff on this was originally posted over at BigFatDelicious, but since I'm exhausted, here are my thoughts:
Basically, I agree totally with what both Lindsay and Mariellen have to say. I’ve noticed that people who are “healthy” (or say that they are) and who tell those of us with health problems that we’d be better if only we did x, y or z seem to have a similar bent to the anti-fat hysterics. I think some of it is definitely (as Mariellen pointed out) an excuse to be “right,” even if they actually aren’t right. I also think some of it, particularly when it comes to people with chronic health problems, or who are fat, is fear-based. The people who think they’re “right” and perfectly “healthy” because they eat right/exercise for four hours a day/bathe in the blood of baby sheep do not want to acknowledge that bad things happen, because they are afraid that if it can happen to other people, it could happen to them.
Unfortunately, for those people who equate “being healthy” with having higher moral ground, the thought that they, too, are susceptible to illness and bad things happening is TERRIFYING. This is such a culturally ingrained mode of thinking that YES, it *is* easier for some to expect us (fat people, chronically ill people, et cetera) to change our bodies. Changing one’s mind about this sort of thing--and the related issues--isn’t exactly encouraged in our culture.
Also, I was planning to write a gigantic post on why I am supportive of the Fat Acceptance and Health at Every Size movements, but I am exhausted. More on that later.
They want us to change our bodies because they think it's easier than changing their minds.
My riff on this was originally posted over at BigFatDelicious, but since I'm exhausted, here are my thoughts:
Basically, I agree totally with what both Lindsay and Mariellen have to say. I’ve noticed that people who are “healthy” (or say that they are) and who tell those of us with health problems that we’d be better if only we did x, y or z seem to have a similar bent to the anti-fat hysterics. I think some of it is definitely (as Mariellen pointed out) an excuse to be “right,” even if they actually aren’t right. I also think some of it, particularly when it comes to people with chronic health problems, or who are fat, is fear-based. The people who think they’re “right” and perfectly “healthy” because they eat right/exercise for four hours a day/bathe in the blood of baby sheep do not want to acknowledge that bad things happen, because they are afraid that if it can happen to other people, it could happen to them.
Unfortunately, for those people who equate “being healthy” with having higher moral ground, the thought that they, too, are susceptible to illness and bad things happening is TERRIFYING. This is such a culturally ingrained mode of thinking that YES, it *is* easier for some to expect us (fat people, chronically ill people, et cetera) to change our bodies. Changing one’s mind about this sort of thing--and the related issues--isn’t exactly encouraged in our culture.
Also, I was planning to write a gigantic post on why I am supportive of the Fat Acceptance and Health at Every Size movements, but I am exhausted. More on that later.
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