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five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 11 months

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it okay need help not bad thing should not be shamed

but same time want talk about just how annoying am need help every day with basic thing how many times don’t want need help just want be able do by self no other people

me situation, for example:

many thing, so private. like physical help get dressed n shower. even for me who don’t have many sense of what private, it still annoying not able get be alone need be with people all time and cannot be stopped that they start talking.

in fact when need help many bADLs, people around all time. am have hard time communicate, and easily overwhelm by people especially if by people long time no time by self. people talk, ask questions am not able to answer (especially frustrate if obviously cannot communicate like an use AAC full time and if hands full hands dirty or AAC not with literally cannot answer, but others reasons like have hard time communicate even if AAC), or talk about self tell story vent about frustrate ask advice etc etc. (some these topic not appropriate for most hired carer to tell you when they work if you no say yes but some don’t care just do anyway and others get care by people like parents)

other times they judge they give advice that not asked for they limit what you allow do make decisions for you. they have power over you because you need them you can’t leave you force stay force listen.

then question. why so many frustrate noises why so many “tantrums” why so many behavioral problems why so many meltdowns.

even if no talk, just presence of people can make overwhelm can add cognitive load.

most people most interaction, overwhelm and cognitive load. everytime meet people, need days by self to slowly stop be overwhelm, but when live with people live with help need help most things, that never possible.

if caregiver not familiar with your need. create more frustrate.

most people no true concept of how disability work. (yes this include what disabled community here complain as “overrepresented disabilities” like paraplegic & SCI etc). don’t realize how many detail come with. from everyday people to people who “work in” disability fields. even disabled people, not have all disabilities, not know all disabilities.

so many little detail. no do not walk infront of me in wheelchair or else will run into you. but yes need follow behind you can’t navigate on own. no do not ask me open end questions when i hand full can’t use AAC. no your “how far is far” “how long is long” very different from my disabled versions.

and. am communication disabled. all these thoughts n needs, trapped inside. no one can read mind. hard time explain hard time even start communicate.

even well meaning caregivers genuine try ask what need and no need help with so they know when help when no help, not infantize you or see you as super crip can do everything, perfect person perfect scenario—even that get frustrate get tiring.

but more frequently, will meet the assume normal until otherwise “you can’t do that??” or opposite assume can’t do anything can’t understand anything get surprised at able do any little thing.

even if know everything about disability (which, gosh would avoid so much headache), every disabled person need different, still need explain.

the get to know phase. so exhausting.

everything about me need care, exhausting. this only fraction.

#high support needs #loaf screm #long post

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paperboy-pb · 8 months

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"A Very Special Day" [Life Story]

[TW for: ableism against kids, internalized ableism, and mentions of suicidal ideation.]

9 years ago today, in the state of New York on September 5th, was my second day of 6th grade. Being a Special Ed kid, I was upset; my school, a K-8 that I had been with since the start and stayed with until the end, had always treated us so differently. And the world around me had promised that things would change once middle school began. But they hadn't. In fact, barely anything was new at all.

Same old baby talk from adults who saw me every day, but willfully ignored how big I had grown.

Same old bullying from my peers, disabled children who spent their days as pots calling kettles black, because no one had any intentions of teaching us better.

Same Adapted Phys Ed, getting ready to interrupt my morning reading every Monday, Wednesday, Friday; even though they'd promised to let me play in Gym with the rest of my class years ago by now.

Same old kids from the neighborhood filling up the rest of my grade, coming in smiling and laughing and oh so free in their new groups of 30. 30-something of them. 12 of us.

They'd even gotten some new kids from the K-5s around town. All of which seemed really nice. Man. Lucky them. Meanwhile, everything was so same-y that I'd considered running away from the school bus when it pulled up.

September 5th, 2014. Still kinda hot in Brooklyn. Sunny out there.

The day had gone bad. My classmates were talking FNAF, and being mean about things I don't remember. They flicked food at me during lunch while I tried to read and mind my own business. We weren't allowed to change seats, even though the rest of our grade got that privilege. It was supposed to be for all of us middle schoolers, but when I'd asked the day before, our lunch aide had no idea what I was on about. She suddenly insisted it was never a thing! While the rest of our grade was splitting into cliques behind her back, paying us no mind, knowing they'd somehow earned it and we didn't.

10-year-old me couldn't wait to go home.

By the end of the day, I was drained like no other. Head down on the desk and all. I was thinking, 2:20-something. Just a few more minutes.

God, why are things like this? Is it gonna get better later this year? I hope so, it's only the second day. Maybe it just starts bad!

Man, I miss summer already. I wish I spent today home all day eating onion ring chips again and playing Animal Crossi--

"Alright guys, listen up!" Said Mrs. Z, who would pretty much be our only teacher this year. (Meanwhile, everyone else got to have different people for different subjects.)

I don't remember her exact words. But she held up a white booklet with a bunch of kids holding hands and awkwardly smiling at us from the mostly-white cover. She said something about it being very important. And she ended her little stanza with, and I quote, "DON'T read these, alright? It's for your parents."

I think that one line changed the trajectory of my life.

As our para handed them out, my bookworm ass couldn't help but furrow my little brows. I'd had teachers assume certain books were "too hard" for me when they weren't, and get upset at me whenever I summarized the plot of them correctly. I'd had teachers tell me not to read other books during class, which was fair enough, I guess. But a teacher telling me not to read something at ALL?

Now THAT'S a new one...

It felt plasticy, not like paper. It's a packet, not a book. Six kids in a row, but none look like me, as usual. The cover said, "Family Guide To Special Education Services for School-Age Children. A Shared Path to Success." ...I don't think a title should be that long. Why not parentheses that end bit?

After that, we were dismissed. Me & some peers headed into the hallway down to the first floor to wait for our bus, and we chatted about it a little bit?

One was like, "Is this a report card or something?"

Another was like, "I guess?"

The first boy skimmed it, though, and saw nothing about him. Which eased his nerves.

A third asked me what I thought it was since I was the only kid who'd hit a Z-reading level. They figured I could make sense of it. And my first thought was boring adult stuff, or some sort of... after-school? Program? Thing? But I didn't really answer. I was too preoccupied with what Mrs. Z said.

What kind of teacher tells me not to read something? Give it to my parents is one thing, but specifically, "don't" read this? Dude! What doesn't she want me to see?

Everyone else had tossed the damn thing into their bookbags and zipped 'em up by now. We headed downstairs, and I couldn't help but notice that our 6th grade class was on the third floor; with a lot of grades 2-4 around us.

Meanwhile, the rest of the big middle school classes came down from higher up. It turns out that they all had their classes high up on the top floor. A bunch of bright minds floated down from above like they were that summer's fireflies, and we were the tips of night grass. Or maybe even worms, burrowing into the dirt and calling it a day.

...

By the time the bus was moving, I still had the packet in my hands. I was wondering why they all got to be up there and we didn't. We lived pretty close to Coney Island, after all: it must be cool seeing the parachute jump from the hallway window on your way down every day.

I barely had time to stuff the packet in my hands once we pulled up to my apartment.

If you've ever wondered what Kid Jonah was like, imagine some sort of hybrid between a miserable little nerd & the most optimistic goody-goody you've ever met. Like, yeah, I'd been in a few fights by this point, broken some rules behind their backs, but I was also... 10. And known for being "THE good kid" in front of teachers. I didn't like to defy them, you know? Even if they did always make me feel weird, or on-edge, or like I was a part of something bad.

So when I made a beeline for my room, I was like, Oh my God, I'm actually gonna do this...? And I didn't tell my parents a thing. I've kept the packet all this time and they STILL haven't read it!

But I did. I think I hesitated, but I remember opening it on my bed.

"Welcome.

Dear families, we've come a long way since our special education reform initiative, A Shared Path to Success, was launched citywide in 2012... we've also been changing hearts and minds as our core belief- that special education is a service, and not a place- has taken hold in our schools...

Section 1... Children learn at different speeds and in different ways. Some children have physical and/or intellectual disabili..."

WHAT?!

...

It was a really dense packet for a kid. Long, boring, seemed endless. But I understood the words. Especially that D one. And at the time, 10-year-old me knew it was a bad one.

I'd crossed the point of no return by then. I kept reading. And I didn't dare skip a word. "Intervention," "Special," "Disability," "Meeting," "Evaluation," "Eligibility," "IEP,"-- Hey, I know that word! IEPs are the dense things stapled to my report cards!

I remember the anger flaring in my heart, out my nose, widening my eyes once I got to the Eligibility bit. I thought, and I quote, "THEY THINK WE'RE DISABLED?!" I don't think words can articulate how insulted little 10-year-old me was!

...I don't think I can articulate how sad that is now, either. How do you instill such heavy ableism into a little boy like that? How do you live with yourself?

But I couldn't throw the book at the wall or take one of my mom's lighters to it like I initially wanted. Because I realized pretty quickly... Oh my God. This is it. These are THE ANSWERS! THIS IS WHY IT'S ALL HAPPENING!

I couldn't believe my eyes as I took it all in. The 13 disabilities that landed me and my friends in this mess, some of which matched up with certain kids I knew right away. But what really caught my attention were the services. Terms that I KNEW about. Things I engaged with. Things I... hated.

"Occupational Therapy." That nice older lady who takes me out of class every few days so I can play memory games, or play with this hand-gripper, or yank pegs outta this bright green putty.

"Paraprofessional Services"; those weird second-teachers that annoy us and only us, but never anyone else in the other classes. They're so stuck-up sometimes! And they never really seem to know how to leave us alone. Especially certain kids.

The stories I could tell about them all now... good fucking lord.

Physical Therapy; That's the one where the lady is always making me feel bad about things and do sit-ups or run drills in the hallway and stairwell... and do embarrassing stretches like people aren't walking by.

And she got upset with me because I brought a lunchbox every day for years; she told me, "You'll never be a big kid if you keep bringing food from home, Jonah!"

And I told her, "But my mom doesn't even make the sandwiches anymore! I make them for myself!"

And she was like, "But still!"

She also measures her footstep, saying it was a foot of distance. Like, 12 inches. But nuh-uh, it was never a foot! Her sneakers aren't that big. Rulers are longer. Why didn't she just get a measuring tape? What's this lady's problem?

The one that sunk my heart, though, was Adapted Phys Ed. The packet said it was "A specially designed program of developmental activities, games, sports, and rhythms suited to the interests, capabilities, and limitations of individual children who may now safely or successfully participate in the activities of a regular physical education program."

And I thought: ...That's the watered-down gym class I do three times a week.

The one where we do "challenges" like stepping into each hole of an agility ladder mat and doing a squat before moving to the next.

The one where we never play sports like everybody else gets to do.

The one that makes the gym teacher sit me out on the bleachers by myself, and watch literally everybody else I know have fun. And when I ask why, nobody tells me anything.

The one where I ask how I can improve in order to go play with everybody else, but nobody tells me anything.

The one where Mrs. D keeps promising me that I'll get to play with the rest of my class soon... but it never comes true.

This is why everybody acts so weird around us.

This is why we can't even talk to the rest of our grade.

This is why nothing ever changes...!

It all made sense. 10-year-old me couldn't feel the floor or the bed anymore. The back of my mind buzzed like shaken soda, fizzling against the back of my skull. I didn't cry. I didn't have tears. But I did sink down, down into the depths of I-don't-even-know-where.

I went time-traveling back to May of last school year, where a Special Ed kid the grade above me was saying to his classmate, "We're all just the kids nobody wants." But I didn't have context. Was this the context? He sounded like he was about to cry.

I went back to 4th grade when I headed into the bathroom and saw two kids from my grade walk by with papers promoting the talent show to everybody. I saw the text written on them clear as day! And I got excited; Our school's having a talent show? COOL! We must be getting those later today, too!

The papers never came.

I went back to 3rd grade, where paras would hover over our class during lunch, but nobody else's. They always stood tall above and between us, like they were a scarecrow keeping the birds of our grade away.

And there was so much. More. Than that.

...

I still wonder why Z didn't want me seeing that. Maybe she knew I would spiral or label myself. But at the same time... that's a learned behavior. Ableism is a hatred, and hatred is learned. From ADULTS. One that she and the rest of the school could at least try to curb if she noticed.

Z wasn't a bad lady. I think she was trying to protect me? But... we already knew we were being treated unfairly. Why would keeping this secret protect me?

The anger only lasted a little while. Because something else dawned on me.

I can't stay here.

This place had been upsetting me for YEARS. And now I knew that it was happening for a reason. A shitty one, but still... a reason. It's not just bad luck. And that it wasn't going to change unless I removed that reason from their minds.

I had to leave. Sound familiar?

The next day we had school? I was completely shaken up. Kinda surprised no one noticed. I was finally seeing just how deep this all went. The teachers smiling in my face, baby-talking, getting reallll close while having this sense of disgust in their eyes.

The staggering difference in numbers between "normal" classes and ours.

Our class locations.

I even found this board on the first floor that had a picture of every teacher and what they taught. Sure enough, "Special Education" was specified in the label for every teacher I'd ever had. I was even able to find the next teachers I'd have for Grades 7 & 8. And my blood went cold because I knew those two particular ladies were pretty mean.

My school was DEFINITELY failing that, "Special Ed is a service, not a place!" shit the state allegedly wanted to accomplish. It was a place. And I... was trapped.

And I couldn't stay trapped. Because as far as I knew, education was everything. I was a very academic little boy back then. And I didn't know what staying in a place like this could mean for my education later down the line.

I didn't want to find out.

I also didn't want my social life restricted like this. Especially since there weren't many kids who treated me well. I wanted freedom. I wanted independence. I wanted a chance to actually find real friends!

And this is sad, but... I was already very depressed by that age. Due to the nature of Special Ed at school. Had been since 8. And so... I made a plan in my bedroom the same night I found the packet:

I can't carry this environment with me into high school. I have to do anything-- EVERYTHING I can to get outta here by the time 8th grade starts! And if I fail... I can't finish 8th grade like that.

The Verrazzano Bridge and the walkway by the water, the one with the short fence that I can get right over, are only a fifteen minute walk from home. If I don't get out of Special Ed by 8th grade, then... I have to go out there and throw myself off. I have to kill myself. I have to...! Because I know for a fact I just can't. Stay. Here.

And I was serious. Dead-serious. Because I thought about it every day for the next 2 years straight.

...

That packet started it all for PB. And as sad as it is that I technically had to go behind adults' backs just to learn something about myself and where I was, I'm extremely glad it happened. Because it's also what kickstarted my interest in disability topics. My journey in learning who we were, what we were, and what we do & don't deserve.

It led to the first drafts of PB just under a year later, which set my life on a completely new path. Paperboy would not EXIST if it weren't for that day. Hell; I don't even know if my OTHER projects (like Weirder Than Usual) would, either!

That wasn't right. None of that was right. But it did give me a story to tell. One that you guys are finally starting to see!

And one that I'm very, very proud of.

Disability conversations are extremely important to me now. I don't think I'm the beacon of anti-ableism or anything like that. I know I've fucked up as I grew up, especially in my younger years. But this entire situation showed me how hush-hush the world likes to be about it. And while it's better now than it was in 2014, it ain't great yet.

And I think I owe it to 10-year-old Jonah to change that shit. Because when he googled "Special Ed makes me feel bad," he barely found anything.

It was definitely an experience I will never forget. And as you saw above, I still keep that packet with me to this day, and I always will, because of just how heavily it changed my life.

I have no idea where or who I'd be if it wasn't for that.

Happy 9th birthday, SpEd packet. Can't wait for the 10th!

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xp-n-g · 7 months

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HELLO MY NAME IS CHARLIE ANNNNNNNND CHECK IT OUT MY WEBSITE UNDERSCOREPNG IS ALMOST DONE!

its all about me myself and i and my work! everything you need to know ab me, my values, and my art are all here! - - eeeek im excited its close to being done! i love html and css and im very proud of this, i hope i get a laptop for christmas so i stop stealing my brothers and then i can code 24/7!! i hope to learn javascript soon so i can make this place look how it looks in my mind!

[this website is best viewed on a pc! unfortunately it breaks a little on mobile and ipad i apologize for this inconvenience!, it still works it just not the same experience!]

___

DNI

[please read full in the link above! - this is shortened!]

BTW it is totally okay to be uncomfortable with any of the values i mentioned here (exceptions are minors*, pro-contacts, bullies, bigots, & hateful people), i myself am uncomfortable with many things, even tho i accept everyone, i still have my own opinions, the difference is i choose to bite my tongue and set differences aside, no matter how weird, for the wellness and health of others. i never want to be someone untrustworthy, nor an oppressor, i am a friend to all and anyone can come to me with anything no matter how big or small, ill be there to listen

HARD DNI

a list of those who i dont wish to associate with, please do not follow me, retweet, repost, or fave/like my work, dm me, or attempt to personally contact me! it makes me uncomfortable!

~ MINORS*

please be 18+ when following my NSFW accounts!

*reminder: my instagram is my only SFW -18 account! this is the only account minors should be on.

~ PRO-CONTACT

i do not allow room for abusive content nor harm, i may be pro-para but i am not pro-abuse. animals, children, and the dead cannot consent.

~ ANTIS

i am proship / profiction meaning i do not feel inclined to harass or reject others for their personal fictional fantasies! i do not believe fiction is equivalent to reality, it can affect it only if you are weakminded enough to allow yourself to, fortunately most people im this world arent! if you in any way believe in harrassing, belittling, or judging others over taboo fictional content, feel taboo fictional content and media are against your moral alignment, or are someone who believes it represents my morals as a person, my content is not for you!

closeted / neutral ship allowed!

~ BULLIES, BIGOTS, & HATEFUL PEOPLE

I WILL NEVER TOLERATE INTOLERANCE, I WILL NEVER STAND BESIDE AN OPPRESSOR, AND I WILL NEVER BE THE OPPRESSOR. i am black, transgender, bisexual, mentally & physically disabled, and radincluse, i support any and all identities no matter how strange or "weird", i do not care! i will ALWAYS be a safe space for anyone who isnt hateful! in my personal opinion, i believe no identity is inherently harmful and all identities are equally invalid, we are stronger together than we are apart. pushing hatred of things you dont understand is not PLUR and is not right, kill the cop in your head before speaking to me, you do not have to understand why others are the way they are, but bare minimum is to accept others no matter how different, in this community we are ALL misunderstood, ostrascized, and wrongly labled, do NOT become the oppressor & praise what you preach, if you are PLUR PROVE IT BY BEING KIND AND ACCEPING! if you force others to confine to your impossible standars do not interact, my content is not for you!

BYF

I AM ANTI-HARRASSMENT, DO NOT COME TO ME WITH CALLOUTS UNLESS SAID PERSON IS CONTRIBUTING TO REAL WORLD ABUSE! youll find out more about this in my byf/dni!

DISCLAIMER

ALL WHO FAIL TO LISTEN WILL BE BLOCKED! ACCOUNTS POSTING HARMFUL OR ABUSIVE CONTENT WILL BE REPORTED, NO IF ANDS OR BUTS!

I RESPECT YOUR DNI, SO PLEASE, RESPECT MINE, ANTIS, MINORS*, AND PRO-CONTACTS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME!

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opossumwithabnjo · 6 months

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adressing somethings that have been said about me.

hi, im possum. im not the best person.

every tag added was included in the original post.

tw for harassment, sexual assault, ableism, etc

however there are many many false things that are being said about me. ive never sexually assaulted anyone, im not ableist, and i do not fucking harass people. i leave them alone, something that other involved seem to not know how to do. unlike them, i am choosing not to list any names.

My ex and i both made a lot of mistakes. we are children. i do not make fun of his physical or mental disability, and i continue to worry about him because we were friends for a long time even before we started dating.

my ex friends and i had a mutal agreement that if we were ever uncomfortable, the behavior that had caused it would stop immediately. i was never told that they were uncomfortable, and i cannot tell when people are uncomfortable due to my inability to pick up on both tone and body language. this was not helped by Friend 1 having problems with communicating WITH said body language and tone, so if he was uncomfortable, it should have been vocalized.

onto my own harassment, constantly messaging me when you are asked not to, messaging my friends, even messaging my PARENTS is harassment. just because i do not respond (i am uncomfortable around them so i DOD NOT RESPOND. THAT DOES NOT MEAN I DID NOT LISTEN TO THEIR CONCERNS.)

i did not force my ex into sexual situations, this is something that i am heavily and notably against. any time that we struggled with concent and communication it was due to inexperience and lack of proper teaching.

saying that i find my brothers hot is the most disgusting thing that ive ever read. seeing that made me feel genuinely ill. that is not something that you should ever spread about someone.

the kid, claiming those gross things about me, is exaggerating and lying about what happened, something that has gone on throughout this entire situation.

i never manipulated my ex (at the very least i never tried to), abd all of the screenshots shown have been from at the very a year pr close to that prior. they say that i have not learned a thing, however i have clearly learned more than they have because unlike them i am working to improve upon the very behavior that these people say i do without thinking.

the situation with the polyamory was something that i was entirely in the wrong for however it is a situation heavily made increasingly worse due to different aspects of my mental health along with how i was being actively manipulated by a close family member.

this family member has abused me my entire life, something that my ex called into question when messaging my parents. i was being actively abused throughout almost our entire relationship. this made it increasingly harder for me to be able to regulate my emotions and behaviors, especially directed towards the people that i was close to.

to my ex: you say you got nothing in return and yet i constantly worried for you, i spoke to you every day and let you talk to me about whatever you needed. i bought and made you things, my family and i brought you on trips. ive tried to help with your physical and mental health but it has gotten to be far too much. i hope you grow as a person, and leave me alone.

please, never contact or mention me again.

#hetalia #fanfic #tadc #wilbur soot #lovejoy #tf2 #monster high #spiderman #ghost #the band ghost #star wars #adventure time #fionna and cake #simon petrikov

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chaos-in-one · 1 year

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hi! anon from earlier. hope you all are having a good day!

also i'm somewhat new to this so i am trying to be respectful/use right language and i am truly and genuinely sorry if i get that wrong

i (singlet, white) have a system friend who is living in a white body but has POC headmates. lately they have been talking to me about IDing as POC and changing how they dress so that they are perceived as brown - not just POC, but specifically brown. this makes me uncomfortable as the body the system is in is not brown, and does not have the life experience of being brown. i also feel uncomfortable about the idea of someone accessorizing differently (headwear, clothing) in order to be perceived as a different race. i don't know if it makes a difference, but my friends also say that the body itself does not have a living/presenting identity of its own, and so the body is white, but the entire system is POC.

if y'all have the time/energy/ability, i would really like some help in understanding and talking about this. i don't want to ask my friends about it as i'm afraid they will get upset and say that i'm being bigoted or unsupportive. maybe i am, but i do want to understand. any advice would be greatly appreciated! thank you!

Yeah no as a system of color what they're doing is... extremely racist. Alters cannot ID as a separate race from the body, they will never have those lived experiences and therefore will never understand what it is like to live as a person of color. And outright trying to change their appearance to pass themselves off as a different race is race-fishing, which is both appropriative and really fucking racist. They are not people of color, they are the same race as the body because race is based off of genetics and heritage and social perception (last one to an extent, as some light-skinned poc don't always get perceived as their actual race). Alters can have appearances that differ from the body, obviously, but different appearances does not equal different race. Alters that appear darker in skin tone being labeled as poc while in a white body is more often than not built off of racist racial stereotypes of who people of color are.

What the body is is still important in certain contexts. Race is one of them, because race is based off of the body. Same with some other things (for example, age. Yes alters can have different self perceptions of their individual age but, for instance, an adult alter in a minor bodied system should NOT be treated the same as one in a bodily adult system because age is largely based off the brain and it's stage in development as a whole). Saying the body doesn't have an identity by itself does not mean it is devoid of any traits. Certain things are not just identities that can be picked and chosen based on personal preferences, sometimes there are things your body simply is or isn't and even if you don't like it, that's how your body is. An example of that for me other than race (because obviously to me, my race is something I just am, I can't just pick and choose that, but I find it is harder for white people to understand when race is the only example used) is me being disabled. I simply am disabled. My body does not function as well as typical. Even if I didn't explicitly identify as disabled, I still would be perceived and live life as a disabled person does because that's how my body is.

Hope that helps it make sense. I'm sorry about your friend. Personally I would tell them bluntly they're being racist, and if they refuse to listen then cut them off, but they aren't my friend so what you decide to do is ultimately up to you.

#syscourse #racism #poc #system of color #indigenous system #system community racism #plural community racism #starting a tag for this because damn racism is a big issue in system spaces

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threadsun · 11 months

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Real quick, not because it's come up or anything, I just want to be pre-emptive about it:

Remember that I'm not the world's leading expert in anything, including kink. Remember to take things I say with a grain of salt and do your own research. I never want to be one of those people who styles themself as an expert and is treated as some sort of guide/leader. For one thing, that's not a power dynamic I'm comfortable with. I'm here to make friends and have fun and spread my love of RACK, not be in charge of anyone (save for moderating the discord).

I happen to know more about queer identities, disability, and kink/bdsm/safe sex than the average person just because they're the three areas I've studied a lot and that most affect my personal life in various ways. But that doesn't mean I'll always be right about everything, or that I'll get across my knowledge well, or that you should just listen to everything I say and take it as fact.

Especially when it comes to kink and bdsm, you should never be teaching others about it just from what you've learned from me, nor should you be practicing it if I'm the only source you've gotten your information from. As a general rule of thumb, never get all your information from one source or believe people just because they usually know what they're talking about. Look for multiple sources, do your own research, remember that there's always going to be different perspectives and everyone has blindspots they don't know about.

So yeah, idk. I just don't wanna be creating weird power dynamics just because I happen to know a lot about kink and like to share my knowledge. And I definitely don't want people engaging in irl kinks based only on what they learn from me, because I've barely brushed the surface of what you need to know before you can safely engage in kink.

Also just because I tease and flirt does not make me anyone's dom. I don't engage in play without negotiation and trust (and friendship or money). If I'm flirting with someone, it's because they've consented to it and they can revoke that consent at any time. But I will never try to engage in actual power exchange here, that would be irresponsible and once again create a power dynamic I'm not comfortable with. I have my limits, and I'll make them clear, so never worry you've accidentally broken them without knowing. And don't worry about trying to defend me, I can defend myself.

#sunshine #idk maybe this doesn't need saying but I want to say it anyway #especially the power dynamic thing #I get uncomfortable when people try to make themselves like... 'leaders' or whatever of fandoms or online spaces #turns real weird and culty real quick and makes it easy for people to be taken advantage of #so I don't wanna be one of those people or encourage people to treat Anyone like that #don't put people on pedestals or make them your leader especially not internet strangers #I'm happy to be a fun silly blog y'all go to and I'm happy to be peoples' favourite writer/blog/whatever #I'm happy for people to enjoy my content and chat with me and ask me questions about kink #I'm happy to educate as best as I can #I'm NOT happy to be taken as a supreme authority on anything tho #I'm just some dumbass I do not deserve that power #also I'm very good at sticking to my boundaries/limits so if I ever respond to something then it means I'm comfortable with it #so like I won't let flirting go any further than I'm comfortable with #which means I don't need people coming into my inbox trying to defend me because they think someone went too far #if they did then I'll let them know myself otherwise it's all good no one needs to worry about it

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never-forget-viva-la-pluto · 6 months

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We can throw grenades at the people crushing machine. We can band together and try to get away from it. We can run face first at it and jam it till it breaks. We can jam it with our clothes. We can fuck up the factory. Giving up doesn't help anyone.

We can cause revolution. Maybe you can't because you're a liberal but at least us leftists can.

In reference to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/never-forget-viva-la-pluto/733556484079796224/some-idiot-on-these-posts-lesser-of-two-evils-is

So listen up,

You can't blow up the machine without hurting the common folk you are meant to be fighting for.

The suggestions you made all result in numerous people dying.

1)Throw grenades at the united states capitalism system.

Okay, let's do it. Throw a grenade. Can you get access to grenades? Do you think your little group of friends with a bunch of grenades would be able to get your little grenades anywhere close to a millionaire lawmaker in congress or the white house or corrupt police stations or billionaire villas etc? You wouldn't even get close enough to make a difference. You and all your little buddies just get charged with attempted murder and you go to jail for life, having helped 0 people in the end, fixed nothing.

How do I know? Because if it were that easy, we would have done it by now. YOU would have done it by now.

2)Band together and try to get away from it.

Who gets to leave? Not all of us can leave. I currently can't walk because I have a painful disability, but I'm lucky, my pain will only last a few more days and I can go then, so as long as I'm there when the...train arrives? What? What's the plan for that? Who will drive that train to get you there? They will have to work the whole time you are evacuating everyone who can leave. Where are we going that is free from capitalism,huh? Fucking space!?! Can you get there? I can't.

And how should we band together and leave? Will you give all your money to that needy family so they can start over somewhere else? What of you then? Will you stay in this human right hell hole with no money at all for that family to be free. But they have friends and relatives they don't want to leave. Will you pay for them too? Oh wait! YOU CANT, because you too are living in this hell.

You can't leave or you WOULD HAVE ALREADY!

3) Run head first into the people eating machine and jam it.

Our system is a people crushing machine. It is so good at crushing people, it would take a VERY large number of people dying to get the USA to bail on capitalism and fix this shit(especially bc a large number of people dying is beneficial for the economy and thus rich assholes making laws that kill people are able to better fill their pockets).

There is no parent in this country that works 60 hrs a week so their child doesn't starve that would NOT take this deal for a chance to save their child's life.

Some have, because life insurance scams are usually a desperate act and a very real thing, but you only have to wait a few years. https://www.valuepenguin.com/life-insurance-suicide#covered

What you are suggesting we do to fix the problem is being attempted as we speak, but the machine just gets better at tricking people that jumping into the machine is a good idea.

4) We can jam it with our clothes/earthly possessions.

I mean...we can but "I can only afford food and shelter this month and Christmas is coming up and my son has a disability that makes it so he can't eat most foods so I wanted to get him something other than rice and kimchi, potatoes and lettuce. Like a gluten free roll. They are so much more expensive. Reg bread is 2 dollars, gluten free bread is 7 dollars and is smaller."- My mother circa 2018

If we thought that sacrificing our possessions to the almighty machine would keep us from dying, we WOULD HAVE DONE IT ALREADY! There are people who have sold everything they own to afford medication as simple as insulin! But once you have done that you are homeless and they have to sleep closer to the people crushing machine than anyone else!

5)We can blow up the factory.

Okay, I don't know what you thought the factory was in terms of the metaphor I used, but the factory is the United States, ya know the place where I assume we both reside.

Should we blow it up? The whole thing? Like, both of us? And everyone we know who lives in this country? Their pets too? All the plants and animals that live in this factory don't matter? Peoples kids are in this factory right?

This one is one that people have tried a few times and people don't generally suggest this one bc they are usually killed, or charged with domestic terrorism, and those people are the ones that stormed the capital and tried to kill Gretchen Whitmar. Ya know?... white supremacists.

You say giving up doesn't help anyone, and you are right.

I've not given up, I'm voting so Gretchen Whitmar's work doesn't get undone the second she leaves. I am buying from local business and boycotting poor ethics as much as I can(again, not a ton of food options for me and I can only afford so much). I am at as many protests that I can be(again, I can't walk right now bc disability). I vote for whomever I think won't actively try to kill me and others like me so I will be alive to help others and send that money to the people who need it more than I do. I help out in my community, I cuss out the racist animal control guy, and I don't tell the cops shit when they come to my door asking about my neighbors.

I haven't given up, but if you think risking countless lives by blowing up the states and starting over is the answer, then you certainly have.

There isn't going to be a damned revolution, because if it made things better we would have done it already!!!

We have a two party system, and that system isn't going to end any time soon, so do what you can to HELP EACH OTHER!

It helps save people's lives to vote blue. It helps to save people's lives to look away when you see someone stealing food. It helps to click those buttons and understand that it's never going to be as simple as a waiting until the perfect candidate. Biden sucks, but the alternative is worse. We have this discussion every election, if the topic wasn't the Gaza it would be something else. In 2020 it was victims of police brutality during BLM protests. Using victims of a genocide or white supremacy as your reason to burn everything down or blow everything up is wrong.

If we had another option, I assure you, the desperate people of the United States would have done it already. The COMPASSIONATE people of the United states would have done it already. It is a fact that someone is going to win that election, and if you don't vote, it will be a republican and they want the machine to be faster at killing people. For now we play the extremely, perhaps perpetual, long game and we protest its wrongdoings.

And we don't give up.

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moriihana · 2 years

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we can't fix each other but we sure as hell can enable each other instead || six: why does everyone monologue so much

pairing: dabi x disabled!gn!reader

overview: you meet dabi pre-canon because your cat, nugget, literally won’t leave the guy alone. friendship, fluff and (eventual) angst ensue.

chapter summary: shigaraki makes a mistake (kidnaps a Child™), a grandpa knocks out dabi and upsets you, then shit goes sideways and you're kinda homeless again but not really

content: aaaaangst?

word count: 1788

a/n: couldn't find a good enough gif for dabi so we've got the asshole thumb thumb lookin fucker instead

*previously known as “we can’t fix each other (but we can heal our wounds together)”; i changed the title bc these assholes aint healin shit they’re just being overall menaces

AO3 link

← previous ; next →

“I’ll ask you one more time, aspiring hero, Bakugo Katsuki… will you join me?”

You had to withhold a laugh at Shigaraki’s question. He really thinks kidnapping this kid and chaining him up will win his favour?

“If you’re gonna talk in your sleep, you should just go to sleep and die,” Bakugo snarled. You did laugh at that.

“I think you just got owned by a kid, boss.” You grinned, disregarding Shigaraki’s withering glare. Dabi elbowed you and mouthed ‘not the time’.

Shigaraki turned his attention to the T.V., where Eraserhead was giving a statement on the Villain’s attack and Bakugo’s kidnapping. After a few minutes, he looked back at Bakugo.

“It’s so strange…” he said. “Why are the heroes being criticised? The way they were dealing with things was just a little off the mark. Is it because it’s their job to protect? Everyone makes a mistake or two. Are they supposed to be perfect? Modern-day heroes are so uptight. Don’t you think, Bakugo?”

“Once heroes receive compensation to protect people, they aren’t heroes anymore,” Spinner added. “That is Stain’s teaching.”

“Many of your so-called ‘heroes’ only protect those who fit their beliefs,” you said softly, “and disregard the suffering of those they deem lesser or unworthy. Are they really heroes then?”

Shigaraki began again, “The strange system of transforming people’s lives into money or glory. The society that sticks tight to those rules. The citizens who blame the losers rather than encourage them. Our fight is to question: what is a hero? What is justice? Is this society truly just? We’ll have everybody thinking about it. We’re planning on winning.” He trained his eye on Bakugo, and asked with a tilt of his head, “you like winning, too, right?”

Bakugo’s glare sharped. You stepped back slightly, not trusting the look on the kid’s face.

“Dabi, release his restraints.” Shigaraki pointed at the boy. Dabi turned to their leader.

“Huh? This guy’s gonna fight, you know.”

Shigaraki shrugged. “It’s fine. We need to treat him like an equal, since we’re scouting him. Besides, you can tell if you’ll win or not if you fight in this situation, right, U.A. student?”

Dabi huffed, then glanced at Twice. “Twice, you do it.” You snickered. He glared at you, as if daring you to comment. You chose not to.

“What, me? No way!” Twice jumped.

“Do it.”

“Man…” He walked over and began to fiddle with the restraints. As he did that, Compress spoke up.

“I do apologise for using such forceful methods. But please understand that we are not just a mob trying to commit crimes. We didn’t kidnap you by accident.”

Shigaraki got up and approached Bakugo, who was massaging his wrists. “Even though our situations differ, everyone here has been restricted and suffered because of people… rules… and heroes. I’m sure you also—” He stopped speaking when Bakugo kicked Twice away and lunged towards him, setting off an explosion and knocking Father off of his face.

“Shigaraki!”

“I listened quietly to your endless talking… idiots can’t get to the point, so they’re always talking for a long time. Basically, you mean ‘we wanna harass people, so please join us,’ right? Don’t bother.” Bakugo stood straight and grinned. “I want to win like All Might. No matter what anyone says, that will never change!”

Dabi moved slightly to shield you as everyone took up defensive positions in case the kid decided to fight. It was then that you noticed Shigaraki’s unnerved expression as he eyed the hand now on the floor. “Father…”

Bakugo took up a fighting stance, his grin even wider. “That’s how it is, you damn scum of a league! Just so you know, I’m still allowed to fight!”

“You know exactly what your position is, huh? What a smart boy!” Magne almost sounded impressed.

Dabi, on the other hand, was the opposite. He looked bored and slightly annoyed. “No, he’s an idiot.”

Toga clapped her hands together. “I’ll stick you!”

“Even if he wasn’t going to join us, he should have pretended we were winning him over… he’s done it now,” Compress mused. You agreed—that would’ve been the smart thing to do.

“I won’t do something I don’t want to even if I’m only faking it. And I don’t wanna be in an annoying place like this for very long.”

“We aren’t annoying,” you snapped at him. “If anything, you are, ya damn brat. Talk at a normal volume, will you?” Dabi elbowed you again to get you to quiet down.

Shigaraki’s hand twitched. “Father…”

“Don’t, Shigaraki Tomura! Calm down!” Kurogiri said frantically, readying to stop him from attacking Bakugo.

Instead of fighting, he held his arm out. “Don’t touch him, any of you.” Shigaraki picked up Father from the floor. “This guy…” he began as he placed the hand back onto his face, “...is a valuable piece. I wish you would’ve listened to me a little. I thought we could come to an understanding.”

“Come to an understanding? No way!”

“Then I have no choice. The heroes said they’re continuing their investigation of us. We don’t have time to talk leisurely.” Shigaraki turned towards the T.V.. “Sensei—lend me your power.”

“Sensei? You’re not the boss around here? That’s not funny!” Bakugo hissed.

“Kurogiri, Compress, make him go to sleep again.”

Compress sighed as he moved towards the boy, “I can’t believe he’s such a bad listener. I’m almost impressed.”

“If you want me to listen to you, then get on your knees and die!”

Before Compress could activate his Quirk, there was a knock at the door. “Hello, this is Pizza-la, Camino store.” A beat passed, before the wall Spinner was leaning against burst and heroes swarmed.

“Smash!”

“Kurogiri, gate!” Shigaraki shouted.

“Pre-emptive binding—” Wooden vines wrapped around the League members, preventing Kurogiri from activating his Quirk, “—Lacquered Chain Prison!”

You yelped in pain as the vines restricted around you, aggravating your arthritis. Dabi snarled at that, flames lighting up on him. “Watch what you’re doing, hero!” Before he could do anything, another hero kicked him in the head, knocking him out.

“Dabi!” You panicked, thrashing around. “Shit, Dabi—”

“—don’t be impatient. It’d be in your best interests to stay put.”

All Might glared at the League, ignoring their protests and discomfort. “You can’t run anymore, League of Villains! Why? Because we are here!” He then stood and turned to Bakugo. “I’m sure you were scared… you did good bearing it. I’m sorry. It’s fine now, young man!”

You zoned out after that, your focus solely on Dabi’s wellbeing. It wasn’t until Shigaraki began to get up that you snapped back to reality.

“—justice, peace… I’ll destroy this garbage heap that you put a lid on with such vague ideas! It was for that purpose that I set All Might apart and started gathering people to my cause! Don’t be ridiculous. This is the beginning… Kurogiri—!” He began, but stopped his order as something pierced through Kurogiri, causing the warp-gate user to slump over.

“No, stop! I couldn’t see anything! What, did you kill him?!” Magne shrieked, shaking her head around.

The “something” that pierced Kurogiri moved in front of her. “I played around with his insides and made him unconscious. He is not dead.”

“Fucker, you could’ve hurt him!” You shouted. “You don’t just play around inside of people, you freak!” The hero ignored you, only proving to further your anger.

The old man that knocked Dabi out spoke, “Didn’t I tell you earlier that it’d be in your best interests to stay put? Hikiishi Kenji, Sako Atushiro, Iguchi Shuichi, Toga Himiko, Bubaigawara Jin, L/N Y/N. With little information and time, the police officers worked through the night to determine your true identities. Do you understand? There’s nowhere left for you to run.

“Hey Shigaraki, can I ask you where your boss is?” The old man finished.

You rolled your eyes. Always running their mouths, always grandstanding… I hate heroes.

When All Might questioned Shigaraki, he began to spiral. You itched to reach out and comfort him before he went too far. Nausea built up in your throat.

Black pools popped up all around the bar, and Nomus began to spill out—sending the heroes into a panic. When one of the pools erupted from Bakugo’s mouth, All Might rushed to grab him, but wasn’t fast enough and shouted in frustration when he disappeared.

You realised the nausea wasn’t from your anxiety as soon as you, and the rest of the League, started to gag up the strange substance as well. It swirled around each of the members, and you all disappeared as well.

You had teleported to a destroyed section of a building, with Boo and Nugget appearing as well. You tucked Nugget into your shirt and Boo under your arm, then scrambled to Dabi’s side. “Dabi, Dabi, wake up, please!” Your voice was strained from panic and the pain caused from the hero’s binding having been too tight. You registered that All Might had arrived, and that Shigaraki’s Sensei was preparing to fight him, but ignored everything around you—until red vines shot out from his fingers and into Kurogiri, waking him back up.

“Kurogiri, get everyone away from here.”

Magne rushed forward. “Hey, wait! He was defeated and is now unconscious! I’m not sure what’s going on, but if you can use Warp, then you should get us away!”

“I just got mine, Magne. On top of only being able to transport short distances, unlike his coordinate transport, I can only bring people to or away from me. I can only send them away to someone I am very familiar with. So I’ll have Kurogiri do it. Forced Quirk Activation!” The mist covering Kurogiri exploded into a warp gate. “Now go!”

“What about you…?” Shigaraki protested.

“Think constantly, Tomura,” All For One said as he rose into the air. “You still have much more room to grow.”

“Sensei!”

“Shigaraki, we need to leave,” you begged, biting back a groan of pain as you stood. You held on tighter to Boo to make sure she wouldn’t wiggle away.

Compress agreed as he used his Quirk to shrink Dabi. “While All Might is being held back, get your piece! Y/N, you need to go—you can’t fight, and that guy’s vines hurt you. Take Dabi and get through the gate. Do you need help moving?” He pressed the blue marble into your free hand.

You shook your head. “No, I can manage. Thank you, Compress.” You smiled, though it was more of a grimace. “Make sure everyone gets out safely, please.”

With Boo, Nugget and Dabi safely on you, you stumbled through the warp gate, leaving the sound of fighting behind.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #todoroki toya x reader #todoroki toya x you #toya todoroki x reader #toya todoroki x you #my writing #bnha fanfiction #navi: we cant fix each other #writing.txt

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liminalweirdo · 1 year

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I didn't want to continue the other post but I think that connecting transness/dysphora (Not all trans people experience dysphoria and that's okay!) and autism/disability (not all autistic people are disabled and that's okay!) is... not great.

One is, according to many autistic people, simply not right. Autism is a developmental disorder, it's a disability.

Being trans, with or without dysphoria, is fundamentally different from a disorder. Saying "you're born with the autism neurotype, but your disabilities make you have clinical DSM V ASD" is not the same as saying "you're born queer and your gender influences your transness." It has this untone (accidentally or not) of "if you remove dysphoria the trans person is happy/better so if you remove disability the autistic person is happy/better" and this directly feeds into the incorrect idea that disabled lives are somehow Less Than.

Like yes autistic people slip through the cracks of diagnosis all the time and that desperately needs to change, but the autism community has never required a diagnosis to welcome people into the community. You don't need to show your disability/diagnosis papers, that's not what's happening.

Of course we should be listening to autistic experiences outside of our own, and we should be open-minded to people who feel differently to us, but I just think that using trans-centered words (transmed) and translating them to autism words (autimed) is a dangerous step, and not just because language and politics centering trans people is so inflammatory right now.

We can't create a community where someone sees the word 'disabled' on an autism blog and equates that autistic person to a transmed person just because they call themselves disabled.

Once we start using words like 'terf' or 'autimed' in our community we're already dividing ourselves in irreparable ways.

Also there's a danger in using trans terminology to talk about autistic stuff because they aren't the same. I know there's a big overlap between autistic people and trans people, but that doesn't mean transness and autism are the same/should use similar terms.

Disability =/= bad in the same way that dysphoria = bad

For one, autism is a developmental disorder/disability. Whether someone wants to call themselves disabled or not, that's what autism is defined as, AND most of the autism community agrees. We can't forget that queer people used to be called mentally ill (incorrect, not backed by science, and queer people did not agree that it was true). So equating autism with transness in some ways puts queer people right back in that box of "disabled, mentally ill" where those terms really mean "mentally deficient," and are used by non-queers against queer people to prevent them from being able to make their own decisions.

(disclaimer: Obviously this does happen to some autistic people. Some autistic people are unjustly stripped of their autonomy and abused by the people who are supposed to take care of them, but that has less to do with a fault in autism itself and everything to do with the people who are abusing them. The fault is in the abuser, not the autistic person.)

Autistic people who use the term disabled are not the same as trans(med) people who say you need to experience dysphoria/go to therapy/be depressed to be properly trans. Transness and autism are different things, and we probably shouldn't use trans-centered words like autimed to describe people in our community, autism and transness simply do not function the same way.

Disability is going to feel different and more/less disabling to every autistic person no matter your autism levels, your verbality, etc. Like, we need to make sure to respect one another. No one is less autistic or more autistic than anyone else. Autistic people don't suffer more/less because of diagnosis/levels/(dis)abilities, it's going to be unique to all of us.

Anyway, I think we should continue to keep the channels of communication open, because if we don't take care of each other, other people are going to do it for us, and they might do it in ways that harm us. Nothing about us without us etc.

#you don't need to have dysphoria to be trans #you don't need to transition to be trans #autism is a disability #Is there gatekeeping and strong opinions in this community? Yes. Autistic people have strong opinions #but let's try to hold strong together instead of apart #asd #autism

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us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2 · 5 months

Note

I pledge alliance

To the trans flag

To end the terfs

And for freedom

For the gender freaks

I fly the trans flag, and I hope that all the terf’s stop being stupid and awful to everyone <3

under the cut is a rant feel free to not read it <3

genuinely, I do not believe that all men are evil and I’d literally sucker punch anyone who said that to my best friend.

evil is something that transcends gender, race, age, class, sex, disability, and other stuff. Bigotry and evil are something anyone can be and it’s true.

so fuck generalisation and shit because whole heartedly I’ve been fucked up more by women than men, actually no BOTH.

but more women, and you don’t see me saying all women are bad or all men are bad or anything like that Jesus. Because it’s individuals that we judge on their actions, not a whole huge fucking group.

when I say fuck terf’s I mean transphobes and fuckwit’s genuinely, because I’m sure as hell sure they would be wildly ableist and awful to me as someone who’s a bit fucked up and different due to trauma, mental illness, neurodivergence, and disability and who’s queer and trans as shit due to a ton of reasons! (you know why moots :heart:)

I’m way more outwardly expressive in my opinions online because I’m just never allowed to irl, but if I met these people irl I’d be kind and courteous and seething with rage <3

I was taught to be kind and respectful and to not be an asshole to people, so yeah why is it a surprise that I support trans rights fully!

feminism is for everyone!

and literally gatekeeping it to just women. just. Doesn’t work, to make change in this world we must work together hand in unlovable hand.

and unironically radical feminism and trans radical exclusionary feminism, do the opposite!

your allowed to be traumatised and hurt, your allowed to be all sorts of fucked up. But genuinely how the fuck do you think all men are bad, or trans people are predators.

because like sometimes we don’t know any better because we got fucked up and that’s all we know, but also have any of them talked to trans kids or trans people in general like.

I have done research into both sides, and one just is way more open and accepting than the other (trans people are more open and accepting) and like I don’t worry about shit.

when people say “look into my side” I DO, and I did and I made my own opinions like I should! I don’t think feminism is bad you fools!

I just don’t believe that all men are bad and that trans people are faking or are confused. you dumb fucks, because unironically all my life experiences are very trans positive and how in the hell am I supposed to be awful to people who I know and knew very well and talked and discussed their experiences and struggles with gender and identity???

some people just assume I just don’t do research and like I do, I talk to people, I research, I learn, and I find out so much!

so my 5+ years of research and life experiences discussion and more just mean nothing to them. And that’s okay, because they never were going to listen to me.

and whatever yk?

so when I say fuck terf’s I just mean shut the fuck up you fools, you don’t know what your talking about because you never took the chance to talk to trans people ever.

and have a good faith discussion about anything.

when I have, and I have done all you asked and still I am a invalid to your cause. So screw you and your pick and choosing.

I hope all terf’s and radfem’s fix their heads on straight and get out of the slog that is terfism and radfemism

#Us-the-voices rants #trans stuff #fuck terfs

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sumukhahomenursingservice · 6 months

Text

Home care for the elderly

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mallingqvist24 · 1 year

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joannechocolat · 3 years

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White feminists, I’m looking at you.

Another week, another raft of Press articles by self-professed white “feminists”, defending their own prejudice by bashing other women. It’s as if they can’t stop themselves, these women of a certain age, a certain class and a (very) certain privilege, who seem quite happy to see women abused, as long as those women are different from their own privileged circle of friends.

These are the women who “don’t see” race, and who think that counts as a virtue.

These are the women who “don’t see” class, or disability, or neurodiversity, or gender, except perhaps for that one friend, who represents all others, and will be used as proof of their tolerance and lack of prejudice whenever the question arises.

These are the women I interact with every day, many of whom I think of as being decent, well-meaning people.

But in actual fact, not seeing race (or gender, or class, or disability) just means you don’t see your own prejudice. I get it: it’s very convenient not to be able to see how one’s privilege impacts on others. Because as soon as you can see that, things start to get uncomfortable. Criticisms people make of you start to seem more justified. It becomes harder and harder to hide behind your comforting circle of friends - all of whom are telling you that you’re right, you’re good, you’re kind, in fact, you’re the real victim if ever your prejudices are called out– your friends, who think just like you.

But here’s the thing. We’re all privileged. We all have unconscious bias. Just because we’re women in a patriarchal society, doesn’t mean we’re not capable of punching down at someone more vulnerable, or causing another person – or group of people - to do so. And let’s face it; those people are usually men. Misogyny loves it when women attack other women. And it’s intersectional. Look closer, and you’ll find how often it leads to racism, ableism and transphobia.

I’m looking at you, white feminists. Using the patriarchy to confirm your own social and racial prejudices, rather than hearing the voices of those women who most need your support. Women of colour. Trans women. (And no, I’m not going to let you deflect by arguing about what exactly makes a woman – there are plenty of people who have done that. Read them if you want to.) What really matters is not whether someone looks or thinks or behaves like you. What really matters is who suffers harm, and who benefits from your actions.

Women are in a majority. Sometimes we forget this. We fight against sexism and prejudice as if we were a minority group. We’re not – or at least, we wouldn’t be, if we didn’t keep splitting into factions, attacking each other, then looking all surprised when the patriarchy keeps rolling on, harming women everywhere. And the saddest part is that we have so much potential energy. If only that energy were directed to bashing the actual patriarchy, rather than by heaping blame upon the women who are its victims, we might be making progress instead of tearing each other apart.

I’m looking at you, white feminists. I know how angry you must feel when people call you prejudiced. I know you’re used to the moral high ground, to the feeling that you’re the real victims of a system that’s loaded against you. And I know that when people call you racist, or ableist, or transphobic, it feels like abuse. It feels that way because you’ve never really considered your privilege in all this. You’ve never really considered the impact your words – amplified by social media, or published in the national Press - might have on real-life people.

You really need to do that. And no, it isn’t easy. First, you have to suppress that urge you have to tell the world that you’re special and different, and therefore have no unconscious prejudice. You’re not, and you do. The fact that you don’t think you have any is precisely because it’s unconscious prejudice. Unconscious prejudice is like a black hole: only detectable through its actions. And if your actions cause POC harm - or trans people, or autistic people, or any other marginalized group likely to receive abuse, or worse, because of something you said, or did – then you need to understand what you did, and acknowledge it.

The first and most important thing is to understand is that this isn’t about you. Too many people fixate on whether or not they’re really racist (or sexist, or ableist, or transphobic) instead of looking further. I get it. It’s easier to focus on the words and what they mean, rather than the reason they were used in the first place. So stop thinking about the words, and think about what you did, instead. Consider whether you said or did something that was harmful. You’re not in the best position to judge. (Unconscious bias, remember?) So listen to your critics. Instead of feeling offended that someone used an ugly word, ask yourself why they used it. Look at their reasons, not yours. Understand their perspective.

That means first putting aside all your excuses and justifications. This isn’t about you, remember? No-one cares why you made a mistake. You might have done it by accident. You might have done it out of ignorance. You might have stuff going on in your life that made you careless or vulnerable. But this isn’t about you. No-one cares why you caused harm. All that matters is that you did. The harm might be direct – causing offense to someone through your words or actions – or indirect – for instance, reinforcing harmful stereotypes, or attracting the kind of negative attention that might result in trolling, doxxing or violence.

Whatever it was, if that happens, the first thing to do is to acknowledge it. Own it without making excuses, or arguing over semantics, or talking about your feelings, or making the process about you.

And no, it isn’t easy. It involves centring the conversation around someone other than you. You may not be used to doing this. It may make you feel uncomfortable. It may even upset you. But remember, this isn’t about how you feel. The fact that you’re instinctively trying to make this about you, even now, should be telling you something.

So yes, get over your feelings. If you said or did something that’s likely to cause harm to someone, own it. Educate yourself. Apologize. Move on, with a greater awareness of what you need to do to improve. That’s all. We’re none of us perfect: we all make mistakes. But when we do, we need to put ego aside, and try to stop repeating them.

Only then will feminism stop tearing itself apart. Only then will feminism be truly deserving of the name - when white women finally understand that if they continue to support and care for only the women who look and think as they do, then the patriarchy wins, and that they are doing its work.

White feminists, I’m looking at you.

White feminists, I’m looking at me.

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straight-outta-collagen · 2 years

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Jesus Christ I'm just. Pissed. Angry cripple coming through

All of this cripplepunk discourse is making me so upset. Like, holy shit -- no, mental health problems are not the same as physical health problems. And I don't mean that in a way that waters down how much mental health problems fucking suck! I'm dealing with both! I get it! But they don't suck in the same ways and I'm not being evil by saying that they should each be able to have their own spaces!

Listen, I *get* that sometimes mental health stuff can take a physical toll! I know that anxiety can cause cardiac problems and PTSD can sometimes give you chronic pain and so on and so forth. And as far as I'm concerned, if your disabilities are primarily mental but overlap in a way that makes them physical too (like what I mentioned earlier, or gastrointestinal issues, or tremors that make it so you can't hold things) then sure, fuck, whatever! Cripplepunk is for people with invisible physical disabilities too and as long as you're experiencing an *invisible physical disability* then even if it's based in your mental disabilities they count. But this isn't a mental health focused space and was never meant to be. Cripplepunk was created by physically disabled people, for physically disabled people, for us to be able to find community with other people who experience shitty body stuff like us. And if you experience shitty body stuff that's fine, come and join us, but don't be shocked if everyone is so busy talking about dislocations and incontinence and chronic pain and how to use mobility aids properly to properly connect with you on your depression or dissociative disorder. There are other spaces for that, where you can talk to people with other mental health problems and get support and community and tips on coping with shit, and I know this because I'm in them! Neuropunk and madpunk fuck severely and they're wonderful places to get what you're looking for!

But if you're dealing with shitty mental health and disabilities of the mental sort, and don't have much in the way of debilitating physical symptoms because of them -- why the hell do you want to call yourself a slur so bad? There's nothing wrong with being able bodied. We're not trying to make a cool kids only club that your functional organs or usable limbs are somehow not good enough for. We just want a space where we can be loudly, unashamedly physically disabled and not have to worry about able bodied folks butting in. I'm autistic and enjoy many autism-only spaces free from allistics talking over us, am I being ableist for requesting that, say, a allistic depressed person not join that autistic-only space? No, because it's for autistic folks! The allistic person wouldn't get any of the support they need there, and might talk over the autistic people in the process without meaning to. Or if I created a discord for psychotic folks (which I am, before anyone yells at me) then would I be unreasonable to turn someone away who didn't experience any psychotic symptoms at all? Absolutely not! Why is it so unreasonable to create a community for ourselves where we can talk about our own bodies and experiences?

This isn't the oppression olympics. This isn't us meanie cripples barring poor mentally ill abled folks from the single scrap of community they otherwise could have had. This isn't us evil gimps saying that we have it sooo much worse than you, all the time forever, and mental health problems are nothing in comparison to what we go through. This isn't even us saying that you can't have solidarity and community with us even under the wider umbrella of disability as a whole! This is just us, saying that our experiences can be vastly different, and it's not unreasonable to want to have our own space to talk about things that you might not experience.

#cripple punk #cpunk #cripplepunk #cripplepunk discourse #eugh my back hurts #and i dislocated my fingers while typing out this ramble #and all i can think is that wow yeah i would not be able to complain about that in neuropunk but i sure can here #also at anyone who tries to bring up 'oh but what would tai think about your gatekeeping checkmate asshole'#you will get a cane to the knee at mach speed and that is a promise.#also im gonna clarify that all the slurs i used are stuff im personally reclaiming #not slinging them at people who don't

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thebibliosphere · 3 years

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I just saw your post on your preference of the term “disabled” over others such as “differently-abled” or “learning differences” and I was wondering if you think the term “disabled” leads to connotations of needing “fixed” and tends to “other” persons with disabilities? I’ve read quite a bit on how some disabled persons view their disability as part of their identity, something that should be celebrated or at least not as something that makes them less than “normal,” not-disabled persons (this especially comes up in the deaf community). I understand your point on legal protections but I guess I’m just concerned about the literal connotations of the term never sitting right with disabled persons. I know for myself I’m more happy with using terms like invisible illness and direct descriptors of my condition that don’t necessarily indicate anything about my abilities. In my experience, at least in academic settings in the US (high school and college), the qualifying conditions for extra accommodations tend to be specific diagnoses anyway. I guess I just worry about how even if we try to change the connotations of “disabled,” everyone will still read it as “not able” and that could be damaging to hear. I know it definitely hurt me for a long time to hear that, if I wanted help I would have to accept that I was in a category of people the world had labeled as unable to achieve. I would love to hear your thoughts!

I don't believe the othering comes from the word disabled itself, but from non-disabled people's insistence that it's a negative word and their ableist projections of what that means.

There's been a huge, HUGE push from the disabled community to remove that stigma for years. #saytheword is a big movement on Twitter and other places and the more support we get, the better it is for everyone. Whether they choose to identify that way or not.

By changing the perception of the word and forcing non-disabled people to stop using infantilizing terms like "special needs" or "diffabled" we are forcing them to confront the fact that they are othering us no matter what kind of positive spin they try to put on it for their own comfort*, and that they need to do better. And they can start by listening to us instead of talking over us.

And also... that's kind of what disability means. It means I am not able to do certain things that other people can do, and I need accommodations and help. My situation won't improve just because I call myself "otherwise abled," I will still need help doing the things I need help with**.

By using the actual othering term, all I'm doing is making sure the abled-bodied people in the room know I'm the right kind of disabled which is uh, hugely problematic. It's very "I'm not like other girls" except it's "I'm not like other disabled people! Look how perky my attitude is! Please don't deny me my basic human rights..."

Does that make sense?

----

*and let's be honest here: it's for their comfort, not ours. Disability makes many people uncomfortable because they like to think they are in complete control of their health, and that if they have the right diet, exercise and attitude, disability will never happen to them. They are wrong. Disability is the one minority anyone can become a part of at any moment.

** An example of this from my personal life is that I have an invisible condition known as POTS. Except I can't get my cardiologist to officially diagnose me with it, because she doesn't want me to "think of myself as disabled." As opposed to, y'know, being actually disabled by this invisible condition and needing help which I am now being denied because she thinks a good attitude and positive mindset will help me more than a disabled placard for my car so I don't overexert myself and faint in public.

#disability tag #chronic health tag #ableism #long post

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