The first time I wrote anything about my disability for public consumption, I wrote about the difficulties I had with heavy, hard-to-open doors in my high school. It was supposed to be funny, and I guess it was, at least to other highschoolers, because classmates would still occasionally mention the article two or three years later. I can’t honestly remember whether the doors got any easier, or if peoples’ behavior changed for the better, but I think maybe a few people got a taste of what life with disabilities was like. I think they learned that what I found to be problematic was something they’d never thought of.
Disability life, ideas, identity, culture, commentary, and politics.