i don’t know who needs to hear this but learning about disability justice will make you love yourself more. even if you don’t have a disability. training yourself with ideas of radical acceptance and celebration of all ability levels will help you treat yourself with patience and compassion because at the end of the day everyone has limitations. a rising tide lifts all boats

also, even if you don’t consider yourself disabled now, you can acquire a disability at any time in your life. you could develop arthritis in 40 years or you could get a concussion tomorrow. doing the work now to uplift and support disabled people around you and fight for disability justice will make you feel less helpless if you do acquire a disability later. fighting for disability justice is not only a moral human imperative, it’s so good for your soul and inner peace as well

reminder: when creating a character who uses mobility aids, don't use "trapped" or negative type language such as the commonly used "wheelchair bound". mobility aids aren't unfortunate, binding, or causes of suffering--they're freeing.

I've seen this before, but it's been years and it just came across my Twitter in its dying days. The words are from a favorite author of mine, Maggie Stiefvater, and they are the words I most need to hear when it comes to dealing with chronic pain and illness. I didn't need this the first time I saw it, six years ago. I need it now. Maybe you do, too.

[Image transcription:

a very wise woman gave me a piece of advice. She told me to start a journal. In the morning, she said, write down the percentage that I felt I was that day. 20% Maggie. 90% Maggie. Then I should write down what I accomplished that day.

I thought at this point she was going to tell me to admire how much I'd gotten done each day despite M a [sic] being ill. I didn't want that, I didn't need a pep talk. I needed my brain.

But that wasn't what she said. She told me: write down what you've managed to do on a 20% day, what you've managed to do on a 40% day. Eventually you'll have a guide so when you wake up and you're at 20%, you won't try to do the things you do on a 40% day. You'll know you can just go watch a movie or sit with your goats or whatever and not feel guilty, because you were never going to write words you could keep or be able to exercise or whatever.

And that was the right way.

It meant I no longer labored for 12 hours each day, doing nothing but trying to smash my way through a draft. Instead I slowly began to write bits and bobs in on my good days. A funny thing happened then: once I was not spending every second forcing myself to do things I couldn't, I found I had enough energy to actually start to work on myself. To look for patterns in my good and bad days. To research healthcare providers and new studies on what was wrong with me still. Slowly I found I was able to chain more of the 60% days together, then 80% days. Slowly I began to realize that although it was taking months, I was improving overall.

/end]

This is a snippet from an Ask Stiefvater answered here on Tumblr.

Differently Abled

The other day I came across a non-disabled person talking about how you should use the term "differently abled" instead of disabled, and when asked if she was disabled, she said her cousin was.

Her reasoning was that the term disabled sounds like they can't do something. I don't think she thought that it was wrong, and she may have not known better but this was literally on a post about how someone was disabled, and that it was fine.

The thing is though, I can't do stuff. I can't not stop fidgeting, I can't hear people even with my hearing aids, and I can't magically overcome my severe sensory issues.

Differently abled is an outdated term that just promotes ableism in the form of non-disabled people believing we can do that thing- just a little differently (from my personal experience), and then not accommodating us.

But I am disabled, not differently abled. And thats okay.

Was stretching with a group of people and one 'helpful' person decided to deepen a stretch for me by grabbing my leg and pushing it without asking me first 🙃 dislocated my hip and fucked all the tendons. Last time this hip dislocated it took about three months to get back to normal so not looking forward to that recovery time!!

They clearly thought they were some kind of amateur chiropractor, there was this massive 'CRACK' sound and they went "oooh that was a good pop 😊😊" actually arsehole that was my ligament snapping but glad you enjoyed the sound!

Anyway this really shouldn't have to be said but do NOT move people's bodies without their clear consent!!

I've seen it so often in exercise spaces where someone will go to 'help' without being asked, and this is a perfect of example of why you NEVER FUCKING DO THAT!

So, you were assaulted. Like actually just described an assault, and this abled asshole acted like they did you a favour after assaulting you. I'm genuinely so sorry.

^ honestly that was my thought too. I mean, I know you said they meant well, op, but it's still assault and battery. At what point does the harm they do matter more than their thoughtless intentions? Like, this person injured you more seriously than if they had punched you in the face. At what point does it make sense to press charges? Or sue for damages? (with all the usual caveats about dealing with the police/legal system as a queer disabled person.... maybe there's a disability rights nonprofit in your area that could help?)

Wait what's a buildings fire evacuation plan if you aren't supposed to use the elevator to get down

You go down the stairwell/fire escape. Is that weird?

But what if you have a walker or a wheelchair??

in america at least, in this situation, there isnt one. either your loved ones or the firemen can get you out using the emergency fire escapes or stairs, or you die 

That's fucking horrific, thank you

“fun” little story:

last summer my friend who is an amazingly talented artist and i were in this super tall building, and she’s in a wheelchair and i’m pushing her around the room. it’s an art exhibit and some of her art was chosen to be showcased there and so it’s all fine and dandy until suddenly an alarm starts going off

a FIRE ALARM

everyone starts running for the stairs and my friend just looks at me with this forlorn look on her face

“i can’t go down the stairs”

but i’m a stubborn bitch “i’ll carry you”

“what about my chair? it’s too expensive for me to be able to get another one if i can’t get this one back”

“i’ll carry that too”

and i did. we went to the stairs (by then most people from our floor were gone) and i lifted her up in a fireman’s carry over my shoulder and then lifted her chair up and used the ridiculous amount of adrenaline that was coursing through my veins to make it down approximately 20 half-flights of stairs until we met some people exiting lower floors, one of which who kindly took the chair. I changed positions so i was holding my friend bridal-style which was, somehow, easier and the person who took her wheelchair (with her permission to handle it of course) accompanied me to the ground floor and then out the doors

basically there is no real protocol for people who can’t use the stairs in an emergency. it’s up to the people with them, if anyone, to help them or the person to somehow make it down the stairs alone, unassisted

thank fuck that it was just a faulty alarm system, because if i was unable to carry her down those stairs and the building was on fucking fire???? then i don’t know what would have happened to her, but i don’t think it would have been very good.

it’s fucking ridiculous and ableist to the absolute max.

I use a cane. When I did a day-long fire safety training at my northeast American university (UMass Amherst), I asked that exact same question: “what am I supposed to do if the fire alarm goes off and I’m in my lab on the twelfth floor?” 

the fire marshal hemmed and hawed for a while and then said to take the elevator- you’re supposed to leave it free for the fire department to use and they want able-bodied people out fast not waiting for elevators. if the fire alarm has just gone off the building probably hasn’t suffered enough structural damage to make using the elevator dangerous, and modern elevator wells are heavily reinforced. many large and high-trafficked buildings on my campus have fire rated elevators that link in with the fire alarm system so they won’t let you off on a floor with a possible fire. 

if the elevator isn’t working, wait in the stairwell and call the fire department to let them know where you are. modern stairwells are also heavily reinforced- it might not be pleasant but modern building code usually requires fire-resistant stairwell doors in office and big residential buildings, also to help firefighters get in and out safely. older buildings’ stairwells may or may not be retrofitted with fire-resistant doors but a stairwell is generally the safest place to wait if you can’t get out. 

what happened to your friend was horrible, and i’m very glad you were there to help her out, but you can absolutely use the elevator to evacuate if it’s not shut down. those don’t-use-the-elevator rules are for abled people.  

This is GOOD TO KNOW. why do they not tell people this??

Okay, firefighter here. If you are not physically able to use the stairs, and the elevator is NOT compromised, use the elevator. But you MUST be ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that the elevator is NOT compromised before you get into it, because there is always the chance that once you get into it, you may not exit it. Power could go out. The elevator may actually BE compromised and you just couldn’t tell from where you were until you were in there, and it suddenly shuts down on you. Something else could happen. 

Understand that once you enter the elevator, you could POTENTIALLY be taking your life into your hands there.

It is NOT LIKELY, to be perfectly honest. It’s only in a pretty catastrophic scenario - think the Twin Towers, USA, on September 11th - that the elevators will be compromised and out of service. But there is a NOT ZERO PERCENT CHANCE and you need to understand that and accept it.

As for leaving the elevators free for the firefighters, okay, here’s the deal. Unless your nearest fire station is literally right next door? Your first on scene fire truck is NOT likely to be there on scene and needing that elevator before you get to the ground. It takes us TIME to find the address, gear up, and drive to the building. Then we need to hoof it into where the elevators even ARE, so YOU HAVE TIME to use the elevator to get down to the ground floor... BUT ONLY IF THERE’S NOT A RUSH ON THE ELEVATOR! And THAT is WHY we don’t tell people this shit. That’s WHY we tell people to NEVER USE THE ELEVATOR... because every self-entitled asshole will use it because they don’t feel like walking, and then put YOU in danger by delaying the elevator’s arrival to you.

IF, however, the elevator IS compromised, or you just can’t get it to come for you, or whatever, and you either don’t have anyone with you who has the adrenaline fueled BALLS to be able to toss you over their shoulder and hoof it down the stairs with you - because, let’s face it, that is RARE AS FUCK, then HERE IS WHAT YOU DO:

You call 911 and tell the call taker that you are in the building that has a fire alarm going off, and you are not able to evacuate because of a physical disability, and you tell them what floor you are on, and EXACTLY what stairwell you are waiting at. And the very FIRST thing that the firefighters are going to do once they arrive, if it is, indeed, a REAL emergency, and not a false alarm, is come get your ass and bring you down. Whether that means carrying you down the stairs, or whether that means locking out the elevators so that no one else can override them and coming to get you themselves, they WILL come get you FIRST THING if it is a real event. And if it is a false alarm? You will probably be the first person who is not involved with the building to know, because the call-taker is going to stay on the line with you until you are under someone’s care and out of danger, or until the scene has been sorted out as real or false, and you are out of danger that way.

These are pretty standard operations in the fire service throughout the United States. There may be some minor variations based on specific municipalities, but, for the most part, this is pretty typical: LIFE BEFORE PROPERTY. So, as long as SOMEONE knows where you are - hence why you call 911 - Firefighters will come get you. You are NOT alone, and you have NOT been abandoned. I PROMISE. It’s like, our whole reason for doing the shit we do: to save lives and to break shit. Sometimes, we get lucky enough to do both at the same time.

High rise fires suck ass, and I always hated them. But the very FIRST thing I asked anytime we got one was if we had “any entrapments” - which is what we call anyone who could not self-evacuate for ANY reason. We ain’t leaving you behind. And yes, your friend who doesn’t have the stamina to carry you down can stay with you, too. Because I would never ask that of someone, honestly. 

Also, just a little FYI... MOST fire alarms are false alarms. Not to make anyone complacent or anything, but, yeah. Most of them are either system malfunctions, someone accidentally hit a pull station, or someone burned popcorn in a break room. So don’t let a fire alarm freak you out until you need it to - by smelling or seeing smoke or flames. 

i have had multiple nightmares about this very thing because NOBODY BOTHERS TO ACTUALLY TELL WHEELCHAIR USERS THIS STUFF

This is really good to know, @ravynfyre, especially since I've heard stories from other people, and personally experienced myself, fire drills that essentially pretend that disabled people don't exist, or even that we would just be an acceptable loss in a fire.

I also understand not widely sharing the elevator info for fear that every asshole who's a bit sore from their morning workout would decide to clog up the elevator, but what I don't understand is so many people's refusal to share this info with actual disabled people. For example, when I was in college, there was a fire drill scheduled with instructions via email emphasizing how nobody better be using the elevators during that time. I emailed the organizing office to ask what I, as a cane user with most of my classes & meetings on a 4th floor or higher, should do during the drill and ergo during a real emergency, and got... no response. No info for disabled students like myself, not even something to disseminate through the Disability Services Office. And, at later times, hearing rumors that the official policy is to just let us cripples fucking burn. Disturbing, but not entirely surprising, as anyone who's dealt with our ableist society can attest.

What was described here actually makes a lot of sense, though, and I'm coming to suspect that the clueless and/or malevolent ableist policies about hiding this information--or even turning off the elevators during a drill--comes from the building staff and not the fire code. My experiences with firefighters, in contrast, have generally shown them to be the nicest, most badass, and most helpful people ever, so I actually have little doubt that they would come to rescue someone like me, just like they would for children who'd been left alone or a granny who was trapped in an upstairs apartment. Makes me feel a whole lot better about something I hadn't realized was a background stressor ever since that bad experience in college.

Thank you again for the helpful comment!

One of the most infuriating comments about tube feeding that I’ve gotten has been something to the effect of “I have massive respect for you- I could never see myself being tube fed/getting a feeding tube” and it’s like? Yes you fucking could.

You could if you had severe gastroparesis. You could if you went into gastric failure. You could if you had EDS with gastric involvement. You would if you had autoimmune gastric involvement. You would if you had intestinal dysmotility or failure. I could name hundreds of reasons that you very well could get a feeding tube.

I know this isn’t exclusive to my medical device/chronic illness/disability. But when something happens to you that causes you to rely on a medical device, you suddenly don’t see the perceived able-bodied willpower that you are supposed to have. You see it as a tool- in my case, you see it as life support.

As always, you should have the right to determine what you do with your own body. But I don’t think able-bodied people are seeing it as a right to refuse intervention, they’re seeing it as a lack of effort, as if my own perseverance could will my paralyzed stomach back into functionality.

It’s a backhanded compliment that is wielded by an able-bodied mindset that sees at least some aspects of chronic illness and a personal failure. I’ve had other people with gastroparesis say this to me, and it’s a product of their previously abled life.

ID: tags from @enby-ralsei reading: #i know this is about physical disability #but i have heard the same thing with taking other medications #like my testosterone and depression meds #'i could never do that every day' #its like they are commending you for surviving in your body. and that they would rather not live than live in your body #its. annoying /end ID

You’re so right though

ID: tags from @gayjacket reading: #oh your life SUCKS man! props for not just Giving. Up. thats what I would do if your life was my life. lol #<- what it sounds like /end ID

Ugh yes, these kinds of comments imo boil down to "wow! Can't believe you haven't killed yourself!"

Please fucking think before you day this to somebody

whoever invented stuffed animals really just understood whats important in life. sometimes you just wanna hold a guy

Im sorry but this calls for a story time

This is Margarete Steiff, founder of the Steiff Toy Company (They make mainly stuffed animals in case you didn't know)

She was paralyzed due to Polio and was discriminated against very much for growing up in conservative Germany in the 1840´s, the townspeople literally arguing her father should just let her drown one time because she would never be “of any use”

But she was very determined to make something of her life, when an operation meant to help her walk failed she said she had to find something else to focus on, so she started sewing dresses, more importantly she started sewing dresses with a sewing machine (because it was easier to handle with one hand) wich received major backlash because bigoted people don't like new things or disabled people doing things differently

Anyway she also made needle cushions to sell, and these were elephant shaped, She quickly realized that children love these things to play with, wich was a fairly new thing because most toys were made out of hard material or rag-dolls at the time, so stuffed animals really weren't a thing

Steiff loved the concept and quickly turned to make more “animal dolls”, she even asked her brother for help going to local Zoos sketching the animals so she could use it as reference

The concept quickly took of and She was able to found a company giving work to many more seamstresses in town, but then the economy crisis struck and the Steiff company was on the verge of closing down

The last hope was a toy fair, if they could sell a large number of stuffed animals there it might save the company, And they indeed did get lucky, because they meet an overexcited American who fell in love with the stuffed bears they had made, for they were so life like, the man bought the entire stock and ordered thousands more in advance wich saved the company

Now you may wonder, why does one weird American need thousands of stuffed bears? Well to advertise for the presidency campaign of Theodore Roosevelt wich resulted in the stuffed bear becoming widely know as the Teddy Bear

Thank you, Margarete, for setting into motion the events that would lead to my plushie addiction. 

Zappos Now Sells SINGLE SHOES! Check it out.

Keep reading

Boost this please!

This is EXCELLENT stuff

Hey! Academics who have disabilities, are neurodiverse, and/or are d/Deaf!

You want a Slack to come and talk about that shit in with other folks in science who deal with this stuff? (It’s like Discord but a touch more professionally-oriented; no one can search anyone or share your info outside the group.) 

I was at Evolution for a disability lunch that went really fucking well this past summer, and we decided that we should keep in touch more. Plans for organizing are ongoing (i.e. resource collection, a front-paging website, etc), but I think one of the most important things we can do is create more of a social network for academics dealing with disability. It can be an isolating experience, and talking breeds community breeds support. 

Disability is broadly defined here. You do not need to be identified as disabled by your department or lab to come on in and participate. You don’t need to be diagnosed with anything, either. If you want to come in and say “I’m an ally” or “I’m really interested in this but I don’t know that I can self-define as disabled/neurodiverse/d/Deaf right now,” or “I’m interested but I’m scared I don’t count,” that’s okay. Come on in. 

We’re primarily organizing around the needs of scientists in academia right now, but that does not mean that undergraduates who are aiming at that sort of career aren’t welcome, and we’re including “social sciences” under the banner of sciences. 

Scientist/PhD Tumblr, please pass it on if you know anyone who could use/is interested in such a space. If you’re interested, DM me or otherwise comment with an email address, and I’ll send you an invite.

We are still doing this thing! This slack is active, and we have folks of a wide variety of career stages in here (from undergrads interested in a career path in science all the way up to faculty) and an even wider range of fields. 

P.S. to evolutionary biologists who are interested in Evolution 2020: we’re going to do the disability coffee meeting again. come see us! 

All Bodies Are Good Bodies (rose blush)

As a disabled, chronically ill, and genderqueer person, this message has grown to be really important to me personally, so I wanted to make some designs to help others be able spread & embrace body positivity. 

This design is available in other colors here.

Other Spoonie designs available here.

Other Queer pride designs available here.

Etsy | Kindle | Ko-fi | RedBubble | Society6 | Zazzle

All Bodies Are Good Bodies (rose blush)

As a disabled, chronically ill, and genderqueer person, this message has grown to be really important to me personally, so I wanted to make some designs to help others be able spread & embrace body positivity. 

This design is available in other colors here.

Other Spoonie designs available here.

Other Queer pride designs available here.

Etsy | Kindle | Ko-fi | RedBubble | Society6 | Zazzle

THAT THING WHEN KIDS POINT AT YOU YELLING QUESTIONS WHEN YOU ARE VISIBLY DISABLED

It kinda sucks. It really sucks. I like kids and I work with kids and I’m totally used to it and it still sucks. It hurts my feelings.

I didn’t become disabled and get an instant magical free training in how to teach kids about disability and diversity. I also didn’t sign up for a delicate unpaid education-and-outreach job every time I go to the frickin’ grocery store. (I actually don’t have time for that).

BUT. And this is a big butt.

I am actually learning to love it, this stupid important unpaid job that I didn’t even get to choose.

I know I know, I have an unfair advantage because I already thought kids were ridiculous and hilarious to begin with. And I worked with them before I started using a wheelchair. But working with kids and having to have the disability conversation in so many iterations so many times over is teaching me a whole lot about this whole situation! And it got much less stressful after I realized this helpful key secret:

kids don’t actually have a problem with disability.

Especially compared to the adults you encounter who will or won’t ask about it and will or won’t hire you or date you or what-have-you, so many kids have absolutely no problem with disability. Unless the media // the adults around them have gotten to their brains before you, this whole conversation might be alarmingly simple, quick, and painless:

SCENARIO 1:

“hey why are you on that?” [“on that” refers to my wheelchair]. 

(whenever possible I put down what I’m doing in order to smile and make eye contact for this. It will probably be less than 20 seconds).

“oh my wheelchair? Great question! I have a disability that makes my bones crack easily, so it’s safer and faster for me to use a wheelchair sometimes. It’s just how I help my body be at its best!”

“oh!”

“cool right?”

“yeah!”

“did you have any other questions?” [I only throw that in on good days]

“um. nope!”

[kid goes to play]

[exhale]

My advice is to expect Scenario One. All you gotta do to prepare is have a one-sentence explanation of your assistive device / disability that you feel comfortable with. Kids do not give a shit about your diagnosis, and you don’t need to prove anything to them. All they need from you is a simple, casual answer.

I * always * explicitly use the word disability for a few reasons. I used to just casually say “I fractured my leg” which was also true, but kids learn really early on to feel pity for someone who has an injury, so they would say things like “ohh I feel bad for you” or “oh when will you get better” which always made the conversation longer and more uncomfortable. Then I realized I had a lot of power in shaping their interaction with disability (and their response to it) in these brief encounters, and also I GET TO DECIDE HOW I ANSWER! So I revised my answer to frame my injuries (and my wheels), as a normal, casual part of my life. Feel free to use my exact wording if it helps you:

“oh my wheelchair? Great question! I have a disability that   (very basic explanation)     so it’s safer and faster for me to use a wheelchair sometimes. It’s just how I help my body be at its best!”

Okay I studied sociolinguistics in college so here’s my geeky little break-down:

My personal opinion on the matter of disclosure is that the vast majority of kids don’t care at all about the fancy name of your disability. I don’t emphasize simplicity because I think kids need to be talked down to, I emphasize simplicity because it keeps the conversation clear, casual, and quick. In the adult world, disclosure is practically demanded of disabled people: even if they don’t ask, everyone wants to know what, exactly, is “wrong” with you. So my choice in not naming my specific disability in these conversations with kids is conscious and political. Not disclosing my diagnosis keeps our conversation out of the medical sphere (disabled people are so over-medicalized anyway) and gives us a chance to connect human-to-human. Some people feel that sharing a diagnosis will raise “awareness” for their illness or disability but I’m not sure that awareness is what I need from kids. I don’t need them to be aware that my bod has wonky collagen production, I need them to know how to interact with me respectfully. I’m not adamantly against specific diagnosis disclosure, (again, YOU GET TO CHOOSE what you say in these situations!) but I also don’t think it’s necessary or important and I think more often than not, it derails the conversation. Especially if you already didn’t have time for this to begin with. Guaranteed, a diagnosis disclosure will add time to this convo.

Often kids will ask what happened to you, assuming that you’ve had some kind of accident. I have a congenital disability, so even when I * have * fractured and had an ‘accident’ and that is why I’m wheeling instead of walking, I usually just casually say: “oh, nothing happened! Same old me. I have a disability…” and continue my spiel from there. 

They will also ask what’s wrong with you (which is the hardest to stomach) and I do the same thing: “oh, nothing’s wrong! I just have a disability…” etc. If I’m just absolutely not in the mood or if a kid seems weirdly aggressive (which is almost never the case, but it does happen), I’ll cheerfully say “oh nothing’s wrong, but thank you so much for asking!” and that usually shuts down the conversation. 

Lovelies, I know how fucking painful this is. Ugh it sucks so much. But it does get easier and gentler and sometimes kids say really goofy things that you get to laugh about later. This conversation is yours. You get to do as you please with it. Have fun. If you want, for little ones throw in an afterthought: “plus it gives me magical powers. But don’t tell anyone.” Having someone look at you like you could be legitimately fucking magical might make your day. 

Hell, you ARE legitimately fucking magical. Go you for reading this and thinking about this and doing you. 

love,

haley

I LOVE THIS! 

“If autism isn’t caused by environmental factors and is natural why didn’t we ever see it in the past?”

We did, except it wasn’t called autism it was called “Little Jonathan is a r*tarded halfwit who bangs his head on things and can’t speak so we’re taking him into the middle of the cold dark forest and leaving him there to die.”

Or “little Jonathan doesn’t talk but does a good job herding the sheep, contributes to the community in his own way, and is, all around, a decent guy.” That happened a lot, too, especially before the 19th century.

Or, backing up FURTHER

and lots of people think this very likely,

“Oh little Sionnat has obviously been taken by the fairies and they’ve left us a Changeling Child who knows too much, and asks strange questions, and uses words she shouldn’t know, and watches everything with her big dark eyes, clearly a Fairy Child and not a Human Like Us.”

The Myth of the Changeling child, a human baby apparently replaced at a young age by a toddler who “suddenly” acts “strange and fey” is an almost textbook depiction of autistic children.

To this day, “autism warrior mommies” talk about autism “stealing” their “sweet normal child” and have this idea of “getting their real baby back” which (in the face of modern science)  indicates how the human psyche actually does deal with finding out their kid acts unlike what they expected.

Given this evidence, and how common we now know autism actually is, the Changeling myth is almost definitely the result of people’s confusion at the development of autistic children.

Weirdly enough, that legend is now comforting to me.

I think it’s worth noting that many like me, who are diagnosed with ASD now, would probably have been seen as just a bit odd in centuries past. I’m only a little bit autistic; I can pass for neurotypical for short periods if I work really hard at it. I have a lack of talent in social situations, and I’m prone to sensory overload or you might notice me stimming.

But here’s the thing: life is louder, brighter and more intense and confusing than it has ever been. I live on the edge of London and I rarely go into the centre of town because it’s too overwhelming. If I went back in time and lived on a farm somewhere, would anyone even notice there was anything odd about me? No police sirens, no crowded streets that go on for miles and miles, no flickery electric lights. Working on a farm has a clear routine. I’d be a badass at spinning cloth or churning butter because I find endless repetition soothing rather than boring.

I’m not trying to romanticise the past because I know it was hard, dirty work with a constant risk of premature death. I don’t actually want to be a 16th century farmer! What I’m saying is that disability exists in the context of the environment. Our environment isn’t making people autistic in the sense of some chemical causing brain damage. But we have created a modern environment which is hostile to autistic people in many ways, which effectively makes us more disabled. When you make people more disabled, you start to see more people struggling, failing at school because they’re overwhelmed, freaking out at the sound of electric hand dryers and so on. And suddenly it looks like there’s millions more autistic people than existed before.

“…disability exists in the context of the environment.”

Reblog for disability commentary.

That last paragraph is absolutely important.

What to do if you meet a toxic “professional”

I met a shit doctor today. They shamed me and blamed me for my illness, treated me like a drug addict for needing anti depressants, refused to give me enough to last til next appointment… Made us cry, gave me a panic attack and shamed me for being an adult with special needs and dependent on my parents. Aggressively gave bad information. I will be reporting them to the psychiatry board, but in the meantime, I want to tell people what I learned.

I hope this helps someone.

“If autism isn’t caused by environmental factors and is natural why didn’t we ever see it in the past?”

We did, except it wasn’t called autism it was called “Little Jonathan is a r*tarded halfwit who bangs his head on things and can’t speak so we’re taking him into the middle of the cold dark forest and leaving him there to die.”

Or “little Jonathan doesn’t talk but does a good job herding the sheep, contributes to the community in his own way, and is, all around, a decent guy.” That happened a lot, too, especially before the 19th century.

Or, backing up FURTHER

and lots of people think this very likely,

“Oh little Sionnat has obviously been taken by the fairies and they’ve left us a Changeling Child who knows too much, and asks strange questions, and uses words she shouldn’t know, and watches everything with her big dark eyes, clearly a Fairy Child and not a Human Like Us.”

The Myth of the Changeling child, a human baby apparently replaced at a young age by a toddler who “suddenly” acts “strange and fey” is an almost textbook depiction of autistic children.

To this day, “autism warrior mommies” talk about autism “stealing” their “sweet normal child” and have this idea of “getting their real baby back” which (in the face of modern science)  indicates how the human psyche actually does deal with finding out their kid acts unlike what they expected.

Given this evidence, and how common we now know autism actually is, the Changeling myth is almost definitely the result of people’s confusion at the development of autistic children.

Weirdly enough, that legend is now comforting to me.

I think it’s worth noting that many like me, who are diagnosed with ASD now, would probably have been seen as just a bit odd in centuries past. I’m only a little bit autistic; I can pass for neurotypical for short periods if I work really hard at it. I have a lack of talent in social situations, and I’m prone to sensory overload or you might notice me stimming.

But here’s the thing: life is louder, brighter and more intense and confusing than it has ever been. I live on the edge of London and I rarely go into the centre of town because it’s too overwhelming. If I went back in time and lived on a farm somewhere, would anyone even notice there was anything odd about me? No police sirens, no crowded streets that go on for miles and miles, no flickery electric lights. Working on a farm has a clear routine. I’d be a badass at spinning cloth or churning butter because I find endless repetition soothing rather than boring.

I’m not trying to romanticise the past because I know it was hard, dirty work with a constant risk of premature death. I don’t actually want to be a 16th century farmer! What I’m saying is that disability exists in the context of the environment. Our environment isn’t making people autistic in the sense of some chemical causing brain damage. But we have created a modern environment which is hostile to autistic people in many ways, which effectively makes us more disabled. When you make people more disabled, you start to see more people struggling, failing at school because they’re overwhelmed, freaking out at the sound of electric hand dryers and so on. And suddenly it looks like there’s millions more autistic people than existed before.

“…disability exists in the context of the environment.”

Reblog for disability commentary.

That last paragraph is absolutely important.

There’s also some disabilities that effectively don’t exist in a modern environment. Shitty eyesight, for example, is 99% of the time effectively and easily treated with glasses, and is not a disability at all (assuming you can afford the glasses, of course). I don’t have to go to my school’s disability services and request accommodations because I need glasses, and I don’t have to alter my daily life because I wear glasses, because today’s modern environment is perfectly navigable to a person with glasses. If I lived 500 years ago and had the same shitty eyesight, it actually would cause me problems. If only we build the world to accommodate other disabilities the way we accommodate glasses.

All. Of. This.

deaf accents are beautiful and its okay to struggle with accepting yourself! u dont need to change for anyone!!

hearing ppl can reblog btw. support deaf ppl!