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Entry tags:
Fuck You, Unfunnybusiness
You know what, Unfunnybusiness? Fuck you. Seriously. Whether you like it or not, disabled people are one of the last groups it is acceptable to ridicule. Yes, other groups, like the LGBTQ community and the obese, are still mocked by mouth-breathing troglodytes, and as evinced by the torrent of astonishing fail pouring out of the UCSD debacle, racism is still thriving. I'm not saying that ableism is the last great bastion of assholery. What I am saying is that the response to it is wholly different than to any other form of discrimination.
Most people with a shred of decency raise a hue and cry whenever racism, sexism, or homophobia rear their ugly heads. The racists and homophobes are roundly castigated, and nobody dreams of telling the injured parties to suck it up and get over it. People the Internet and community over fall all over themselves to join the mob decrying the bigoted behavior.
But a funny thing happens when ableism comes to call. Oh, plenty of people rush to denounce the asshole du jour and to affirm that the disabled should be heard. But there are an alarming number of otherwise decent, level-headed people who shake their fingers at any disabled person who dares to complain about the hurt, anger and marginalization they feel. "Who says you got it worse than us gay folk?" they demand to know. "Why are you playing the biggest victim? You're not more oppressed than the rest of us, so STFU."
No. Fuck you.
I'm not more oppressed than the gay couple that can't marry or the people of color being persecuted at UCSD by vicious hatemongers, but I am less visible, because every time I open my mouth to speak, my voice is drowned out by the clamor of those desperate to point out how badly they've got it. I have fewer advocates than the gay community or the minority groups because no one wants to be like me. Unlike those communities, which have common histories and leaders who exhort them to be proud of who they are, I have a fragmented culture with no leadership, and those who would lead me have not so much as a name. They are simply "advocates for the disabled", a faceless gestalt of people who attract no notice and inspire none to action.
The struggle of gay people and people of color strikes a chord of empathy within many because it is a recognizable, universal, and human one. Mine inspires only an uneasy pity and niggling sense of guilt.
So, yes, I do think disabled folks have a rougher go of it than most of the other folks in Discrimination Steerage. All around me, I see people working together to assure equal rights for gay people and minorities, people fighting to see that they can stand up and be counted because they are no less worthy of human consideration than the WASPs next door. And yet, when I reach for that same hand, it isn't there. When I ask to vent my frustrations, I'm told they're wrong, that I'm interrogating my experiences from the wrong perspective.
Those same decent, fair-minded people who would work tirelessly for gay rights suddenly find a great deal of comfort in their keyboards when I point out that yeah, my life sucks and I could use a little help, a little mercy now. Don't I know? Other people have it just as rough as me, so shut up and roll to the end of the line. And if I don't like that attitude, then the problem lies with me.
The sad part is that the next time some able poster opines that the disabled are among the last groups it is acceptable to deride and humiliate, dozens of people will laud them for their persipicacity and open-minded, unflinching analysis of the truth.
But don't mind me. What do I know? I'm just bitter and disabled.
Most people with a shred of decency raise a hue and cry whenever racism, sexism, or homophobia rear their ugly heads. The racists and homophobes are roundly castigated, and nobody dreams of telling the injured parties to suck it up and get over it. People the Internet and community over fall all over themselves to join the mob decrying the bigoted behavior.
But a funny thing happens when ableism comes to call. Oh, plenty of people rush to denounce the asshole du jour and to affirm that the disabled should be heard. But there are an alarming number of otherwise decent, level-headed people who shake their fingers at any disabled person who dares to complain about the hurt, anger and marginalization they feel. "Who says you got it worse than us gay folk?" they demand to know. "Why are you playing the biggest victim? You're not more oppressed than the rest of us, so STFU."
No. Fuck you.
I'm not more oppressed than the gay couple that can't marry or the people of color being persecuted at UCSD by vicious hatemongers, but I am less visible, because every time I open my mouth to speak, my voice is drowned out by the clamor of those desperate to point out how badly they've got it. I have fewer advocates than the gay community or the minority groups because no one wants to be like me. Unlike those communities, which have common histories and leaders who exhort them to be proud of who they are, I have a fragmented culture with no leadership, and those who would lead me have not so much as a name. They are simply "advocates for the disabled", a faceless gestalt of people who attract no notice and inspire none to action.
The struggle of gay people and people of color strikes a chord of empathy within many because it is a recognizable, universal, and human one. Mine inspires only an uneasy pity and niggling sense of guilt.
So, yes, I do think disabled folks have a rougher go of it than most of the other folks in Discrimination Steerage. All around me, I see people working together to assure equal rights for gay people and minorities, people fighting to see that they can stand up and be counted because they are no less worthy of human consideration than the WASPs next door. And yet, when I reach for that same hand, it isn't there. When I ask to vent my frustrations, I'm told they're wrong, that I'm interrogating my experiences from the wrong perspective.
Those same decent, fair-minded people who would work tirelessly for gay rights suddenly find a great deal of comfort in their keyboards when I point out that yeah, my life sucks and I could use a little help, a little mercy now. Don't I know? Other people have it just as rough as me, so shut up and roll to the end of the line. And if I don't like that attitude, then the problem lies with me.
The sad part is that the next time some able poster opines that the disabled are among the last groups it is acceptable to deride and humiliate, dozens of people will laud them for their persipicacity and open-minded, unflinching analysis of the truth.
But don't mind me. What do I know? I'm just bitter and disabled.