I own my disability. It’s a part of my feminism. It is part of how I believe I came to be a feminist– and sometimes this part of my feminism gets me into trouble because I want more intersection in my life.
Last week I read an interview with Kathleen Hanna in which she said: ” I am not Lyme disease, that’s not who I am, I’m still a feminist artist, but this is a part of my story too, and I’m not going to keep it out to look cooler. [laughs] I mean, how can I look any cooler?”
And I had my kneejerk reaction. And I think that kneejerk reaction was right. No, she’s not Lyme disease in the same way that I’m not congenital rubella. The fact that she thought about the idea that having lyme disease would make her less cool was obvious, I felt like her comment made it sound like being a person with an illness didn’t make her a feminist artist… and these are the things I struggle against. In order to be seen as a whole person I have to own my disabilities. I want to stand up and say that they are a part of me just as much as they are a part of my feminism. Just as much as my queer upbringing. I can’t help but be who I am. Disability isn’t something we choose, and often I fear that people don’t identify with it because they’re afraid of looking weak. Personally, I think the women I know with disabilities are stronger than any I have known. I’m slowly amassing a network of women with disabilities, strong fierce women who make my feminism stronger, because they inspire me to work harder for us.
Many of these women don’t identify as feminists because mainstream feminism hasn’t included us yet – the fight for minorities to be recognized as feminist entities has always been contentious.
But owning that disability and that illness I think is what makes the intersectionality of feminism and disability activism important. Feminism is about being strong in our womanhood. About being equal. Hearing that women with disabilities don’t feel like they are feminists reminds me that the general perception of us is weak. People with disabilities can be artists and feminists and strong and noble and they can BE without just being their disease or ailment.
Instead of allowing my disability to be diminished or my disability to own me, I’m putting disabled feminism into practice. And every day I push just a little harder. It’s hard work to have a disability, to live with it, and to fight with it. It’s awesome to beat your limitations and surpass what people believe you’re capable of.
Today I heard about a woman in a manual wheelchair who wheeled herself up and down a hill every day at school. That is power. There are examples of strong women with disabilities in history, like Helen Keller, who fought for her ability to communicate. Like Harriet Tubman, who went blind while helping slaves escape to freedom. Both of these women were introduced to me as a child as feminist icons. So why is it so hard for women with disabilities to find themselves included in feminism? We need intersectionality. We need it to live in that world. The perception of weakness leaves us without agency, adrift in a sea of theory. Instead of giving in to that perception, I’m putting disabled feminism into practice. And every day I push just a little harder. To have a disability, to live with it, and to fight with it is a strength. It’s the very essence of how I live my life to surpass expectations of those around me. And I know that I am not alone.
This is what my feminism looks like.
I admire your strength & determination. My friends & I where recently discussing the invisible disabilities. The not so obvious ones like mental illness especially depression. Fibromyalgia, Vets with PTSD or early onset dementia, Even recovering addicts living with things like HIV or hepatitis. Sometimes when things like these aren’t obvious or noticable, people have higher expectations of you. Not understanding why you might need to lay down in the afternoon because you have arthritis pain at 35. They make assumptions or jump to conclusions like “She must be lazy” Even worse is when the invisible to the eye disabilities make it unable for you to work. Automatically we’re “Scheming the system, playing games or conning others. I’ve even had 2 relatives actually get jealous because I get a disability check. How foolish can anybody be that they could be jealous of an overweight, tired chic in bad pain & unable to take pain killers? Do they even realize I’m making about a half of what I used to & as far as pain goes I’d give back those checks & more not to be hurting like this! Please guys, just because we might not be in a wheelchair doesn’t mean we’re 100% fine and dandy… No wonder some think us as week. Sometimes I get so tired of it all that I don’t want to be social. Don’t want to be judged, stared at or talked about. No wonder there’s so many times I’d rather isolate or even detatch. Then theres the associated problems with doing just that, prefering to be alone. At least alone I don’t have to argue with anyone trying to defend myself. So my hats off to you for being the stronger, better person. Maybe as a strong feminist you don’t have to contend with the issues. Because who would dare bother you? Aww shucks, can I get a chuckle?…Wishing U Peace…
Debi,
Another chronic pain/invisible disability person here, and yeah the way we get treated is obnoxious. I use a service dog for mobility most of the time so your points about not wanting to be stared at and talked about really resonate with me!
I’ve found the internet is an awesome social resource. I can talk to people without having to leave the house & I have a fine fierce community of crips and crazies here who understand.
Just a quick note — you DO realize that the canes blind people use for navigation look and function absolutely nothing like canes used for mobility aids, right? They’re at least as tall as the person using them and extend out in front to sweep for obstacles. So yeah, it’s entirely reasonable to expect people to notice the long white cane and get out of the way.
And while it’s fine that you enjoy discussing your medical problems with other people, let me assure you that not everyone does and there is nothing wrong with wanting some privacy. There’s nothing wrong with not wanting people to shout at you. Shouting is rude. Asking strangers to tell you about their medical problems is rude.
I’m also a disabled woman vet. I prefer to be able to go to the grocery without it turning into an hour-long Dog And Cripple Show where I’m expected to explain to every passing stranger what my diagnosis is, how I ended up with it, what my service dog does for me, and why they can’t pet him.
Just as you say that Elsa doesn’t speak for all people with disabilities, you need to realize that you don’t, either. Instead of making excuses for non-disabled people being rude, try having some empathy for other disabled people who don’t have the time, energy, or desire to answer questions about private medical matters. Try wondering why we’re always getting told that we have to be understanding when people are rude to us, rather than rude people being told they need to understand that they’re being rude as hell.