If you happen to be in spaces that are returning to in-person work or learning... please please please be more intentional about the way you talk about those changes. I know that many people are experiencing Zoom fatigue and all other sorts of miseries from being forced to be distant... believe me, I know. But when you frame the evaporation of remote accommodations in favor of pre-covid arrangements as a Universal and Obvious Good, you can end up celebrating the disappearance of vital accessibility projects.

What You Say: Aren't we all so happy to be back in person? Isn't it about time to get back to normal, the way things were meant to be? It's important that we adjust to a new normal and keep moving forward!

What I, A Disabled Person, Hear: I am a solitary actor and I operate in the world as such; the risks I consider are risks to my own person as a result of my own choices and my thinking goes no farther. The world was not designed with your problems in mind and it is necessarily this way. What I value most is a return to the status-quo, not the safety of all persons.

Even just altering your language to recognize that not all people are going to be enthused by or be safe with an across the board return? That can make a big difference in the burden that disabled folks are already facing in trying to claw those accommodations back from the murky depths into which they've vanished. At the very least maybe we won't feel like we're screaming into a void that couldn't care less about our safety.

Confessional

When Boba was arrested, before he was processed, before a decision was made about his fate, before he was sent off to prison, he had a visitor come to his holding cell.

Boba would have known what his visitor was by the sound of his footsteps alone. He didn't need eyes to recognize a gait he'd been hearing thousand-fold for much of his childhood. He didn't need sight but as it was, the cold durasteel chair he was sat in and the cold durasteel table he was cuffed to faced the doorway. As soon as the door to his cell opened, silent but for the unavoidable sound of the lock disengaging and re-engaging again, he had a clear view.

Boba saw painted duraplast armor and dark swishing kama.