1The Entitlement to Question--Everything About Me Part One
Where do they get it? And has anyone else experienced this?
The idea that, *especially* since they don't know me, they are not my friend, or family member, or counselor, or physician...
'You don't really need that [insert assistive device of choice]!"
"And you know this how? A nineteen year old Twinkie who barely made it out of high school alive has suddenly become a medical expert on what someone with ataxia/cerebral palsy/spastic paraplegia needs to move? Oh, why of course you have...between your Saturdays at the hair salon and the Wednesday afternoon lingerie/Tupperware affairs, no doubt."
The sudden obtrusive questioning of body size, method of motion, or whether or not I can have what my grandmother used to call "relations."
"Since you didn't know me between 1985 and 1999, I'll spare you even the short answer to that question, let alone the long one. The fact that I truly believe I'm paying my karma now for my wild years ( 1993-1999) by trying to remain a 'cool person', while choosing a kind of 'enforced celibacy' is also none of your beeswax."
Or the interviewer that walked right past me, and asked his minions where his next interviewee was and then looked at me oddly and dismissed me in five minutes when he found out it was the fat chick on the scooter.
Insert favored curse gesture here.
Or the idea that I can be in the room, and they can talk at a perfectly normal volume, when I am right *there,* and then they get amazed when, not only can I hear them, but I have the unfortunate habit of remembering these conversations and then maliciously, purposefully using it against them later.
Another one of the real, honest, joys of impairment, I think. Many of us have not had to wait for the latest Harry Potter movie for a cool invisibility cloak. If they're going to disrespect you and treat you as invisible and stupid, well then make 'em pay for the 'privilege.'
I just realized about three years ago, that my wrestling with my weight was a subconscious shout of: "Christ! I'm right HERE! I'm a CUSTOMER/PATIENT/VOTING CONSTITUENT/HUMAN BEING! How big do I have to *GET* before someone pays attention!"
Most of the time, I can be truly polite or politically correct but the answers in italics above are often going through my head, when I hear such questions.
The idea that, *especially* since they don't know me, they are not my friend, or family member, or counselor, or physician...
'You don't really need that [insert assistive device of choice]!"
"And you know this how? A nineteen year old Twinkie who barely made it out of high school alive has suddenly become a medical expert on what someone with ataxia/cerebral palsy/spastic paraplegia needs to move? Oh, why of course you have...between your Saturdays at the hair salon and the Wednesday afternoon lingerie/Tupperware affairs, no doubt."
The sudden obtrusive questioning of body size, method of motion, or whether or not I can have what my grandmother used to call "relations."
"Since you didn't know me between 1985 and 1999, I'll spare you even the short answer to that question, let alone the long one. The fact that I truly believe I'm paying my karma now for my wild years ( 1993-1999) by trying to remain a 'cool person', while choosing a kind of 'enforced celibacy' is also none of your beeswax."
Or the interviewer that walked right past me, and asked his minions where his next interviewee was and then looked at me oddly and dismissed me in five minutes when he found out it was the fat chick on the scooter.
Insert favored curse gesture here.
Or the idea that I can be in the room, and they can talk at a perfectly normal volume, when I am right *there,* and then they get amazed when, not only can I hear them, but I have the unfortunate habit of remembering these conversations and then maliciously, purposefully using it against them later.
Another one of the real, honest, joys of impairment, I think. Many of us have not had to wait for the latest Harry Potter movie for a cool invisibility cloak. If they're going to disrespect you and treat you as invisible and stupid, well then make 'em pay for the 'privilege.'
I just realized about three years ago, that my wrestling with my weight was a subconscious shout of: "Christ! I'm right HERE! I'm a CUSTOMER/PATIENT/VOTING CONSTITUENT/HUMAN BEING! How big do I have to *GET* before someone pays attention!"
Most of the time, I can be truly polite or politically correct but the answers in italics above are often going through my head, when I hear such questions.
Labels: Disability Snark
posted by imfunnytoo at 12:39 AM
2 Comments:
I hate struggling with these same things too. Much of the time it rolls off my back, but much of the time it just pisses me off instead. Weight's a big issue for me too. If there were a quick fix pill for internalization, I'd be first in line ;).
And, another cool thing I just couldn't help myself with doing...relating to the "invisibility" issue.
My first real job was in a big office highrise. The suits who made the biggest bucks and worked on the top floor would be in the same elevator with me...and, if it was a subject I knew something about, I'd interject myself into the rarefied air of their conversation with some comment that made sense and fit into the topic at hand....they'd stop talking....stare...say some minimalist thing and get back to what they were talking about.
But I figured if I "poked" them with my existence long enough, I'd do a gradual bit of education about a couple of things:
Needless Disrespect of Women
Needless Disrespect of Fat Persons
Needless Disrespect of People With Impairments
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