Disablism: A late entry
a rotten internet connection delayed this getting out on May 1
but here it is:
Anyone who has grown up disabled knows that there is a cruel gauntlet that disabled kids face many times, that is part of the social conventions that make us "disabled."
many children are cruel to The Other...any one who isn't like themselves:
Another race
Another religion
Another color
Another size (the 'fat' kid)
A different orientation
Anyone less than handsome or beautiful
And...to those who have disabilities...
In my own personal experience the most difficult year was my thirteenth.
First, thirteen year old boys did the usual namecalling, and got me pissed enough to yell at them in study hall and all of us spent time in detention as if I was just as bad for expressing my righteous anger as they were for comparing me to some wobbling toy......the word spread and soon many other thirteen, fourteen and fifteen year old boys, particularly those who rode my bus got the word that they could get me to react. (not the 'short' bus but a standard schoolbus full of guys who didn't just ignore.)
They jibed.
They poked
They laughed.
They pointed, howled, stared
And as much of the time as I could I stared out of the bus window my face frozen, silent. But if they got to me, I'd still be silent, but the tears would be streaming down my face.
Then there was the day in late spring when I slipped on wet or ice and rolled *under* the parked bus.
They yelled at me...why couldn't I get out, hey come out of there dummy!, come on!
And then one bright ninth grader got the idea.
And the kicking started. Not just one. more than one...
Not hard, not very painful...but ongoing for what seemed a long while...some authority figure got me out of there and stood me up...and called my parents.
For awhile I did not ride that bus.
When I did, all the kicking crowd did was give me venomous stares. They had been warned.
******************************************************************************
Then there was the summer camp two years later....where the staff were just barely legal, and the kids at camp were teens....
There was a ritual saying goodbye that meant the counselors stopped by the cabins on the last night... some harmless hugs and kisses on the cheek were the norm even between counselors and campers of different sexes...part of the ritual. No one felt the least bit coerced or inappropriate.
One summer when I had enjoyed my brief brief time of being shapely enough to wear a two piece in the water, or halters in the heat, one counselor took it upon himself to kiss me like a man kisses a woman...and I had not "teased" or "led on" anybody. There was enough monitoring that that couldn't even occur. His kiss was not consensual. It was over quickly...but it was *public.* None of the other staff intervened, or said anything, so I took my cue from that silence and acted nonchalant. But I thought about it and remained shaken by it for quite some while.
We get kicked, and some able obviously see us as a class they can impose upon sexually.
"Disabilism" or "Ableism" doesn't exist?!!!
What a crock.
but here it is:
Anyone who has grown up disabled knows that there is a cruel gauntlet that disabled kids face many times, that is part of the social conventions that make us "disabled."
many children are cruel to The Other...any one who isn't like themselves:
Another race
Another religion
Another color
Another size (the 'fat' kid)
A different orientation
Anyone less than handsome or beautiful
And...to those who have disabilities...
In my own personal experience the most difficult year was my thirteenth.
First, thirteen year old boys did the usual namecalling, and got me pissed enough to yell at them in study hall and all of us spent time in detention as if I was just as bad for expressing my righteous anger as they were for comparing me to some wobbling toy......the word spread and soon many other thirteen, fourteen and fifteen year old boys, particularly those who rode my bus got the word that they could get me to react. (not the 'short' bus but a standard schoolbus full of guys who didn't just ignore.)
They jibed.
They poked
They laughed.
They pointed, howled, stared
And as much of the time as I could I stared out of the bus window my face frozen, silent. But if they got to me, I'd still be silent, but the tears would be streaming down my face.
Then there was the day in late spring when I slipped on wet or ice and rolled *under* the parked bus.
They yelled at me...why couldn't I get out, hey come out of there dummy!, come on!
And then one bright ninth grader got the idea.
And the kicking started. Not just one. more than one...
Not hard, not very painful...but ongoing for what seemed a long while...some authority figure got me out of there and stood me up...and called my parents.
For awhile I did not ride that bus.
When I did, all the kicking crowd did was give me venomous stares. They had been warned.
******************************************************************************
Then there was the summer camp two years later....where the staff were just barely legal, and the kids at camp were teens....
There was a ritual saying goodbye that meant the counselors stopped by the cabins on the last night... some harmless hugs and kisses on the cheek were the norm even between counselors and campers of different sexes...part of the ritual. No one felt the least bit coerced or inappropriate.
One summer when I had enjoyed my brief brief time of being shapely enough to wear a two piece in the water, or halters in the heat, one counselor took it upon himself to kiss me like a man kisses a woman...and I had not "teased" or "led on" anybody. There was enough monitoring that that couldn't even occur. His kiss was not consensual. It was over quickly...but it was *public.* None of the other staff intervened, or said anything, so I took my cue from that silence and acted nonchalant. But I thought about it and remained shaken by it for quite some while.
We get kicked, and some able obviously see us as a class they can impose upon sexually.
"Disabilism" or "Ableism" doesn't exist?!!!
What a crock.
posted by imfunnytoo at 6:39 PM
1 Comments:
Heartbreaking stories.
Young boys are shits. I was set on fire on a schoolbus once; melted my new fake fur jacket and burned about 9 inches of my hair off. Luckily, it didn't hit my scalp or catch the rest of me on fire. I was not burned because I was disabled, but because I was different (smart and shy and vulnerable because no one was going to stick up for me). I think it's the difference coupled with the aloneness and silence that permits predation.
Now we do not have to be alone and we must not be silent.
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