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Disability Laws Serve Politicians, Not Us!

12/19/2014

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Legislation designed to protect people with disabilities from discrimination, allow us to work or to gain an education actually ends up serving the politicians who are involved with it better than our community.

Why? Because the bill has to be ineffective for it to pass through congress. It has to have built in safeguards for politicians so that it will be approved, else it will quietly die in committee, if it ever makes it there.

What are the safeguards, you ask? It has to be cheap, it cannot offend the sensibilities of the opponents or those whom the politician is beholden to, and it has to be beneficial to either the middle class or the rich at the expense of the poor.

Take the ABLE Act, for example, which just passed both houses. The Achieving a Better Life Experience (ABLE) Act is a bill that was supposed to help people with disabilities, but in reality it harms us. It was intended to allow people with disabilities to save money, tax free, for future expenses for independent living. However, recent amendments to the bill has made it unacceptable because it steals services from poor people with disabilities to give to the rich and it imposes age restrictions.

Simply put, it caps eligibility by age. Only people who have acquired their disability before age 27 would be eligible. It also includes budget cuts to vital services for people with disabilities. One group of people with disabilities should not have to sacrifice such services in order for another group of people with disabilities to have what they need to survive.

If disability-related bills aren't pitting us against each other, they are protecting those special interests who don't want us around or who see us as liabilities. This is partially what happened with the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), to say nothing of the absurdities that gave better protections to people who aren't even disabled, than to people with certain disabilities!

Another tactic is to have the legislation on paper, but fail to implement it, or do so ineffectively or put in provisions that prevent or impede someone from seeking recourse if there are violations of the law.

Then, there are the libertarians who don't want to be told what to do, so they oppose a bill like the Community Choice Act, or it's successor, the Community Integration Act, because of the mandate on home and community-based services and supports, not realizing or caring that there is an institutional bias in long-term care because nursing homes and other institutions are mandated.

Further, they tend to put a price on our freedom and our rights. Usually, the first question out of a politician's mouth is "how much will this cost?" Look, I understand fiscal responsibility, but if your first worry is how much it will cost to assure my rights and freedom, you've spoken volumes to me without knowing it!

What makes this so infuriating is that politicians who actually care about our community know that they have no choice but to go along with that or their bill won't get through. Senator Harkin, who recently retired understood this, as did Vice-President Joe Biden, when he was in the Senate. For politicians who care only about their record looking good, this is a boon to them. They can put in weakening amendments and riders, then, say that they voted for disability rights legislation. In one fell swoop, they've satisfied their constituents, obeyed their masters and they look good on paper. Meanwhile, our community is suffering because what looked good on its face is actually hurting us.

There are many folks, even disability advocates and activists who say, "well, this is a good start." Why? Why should we settle for a good start? To me, it doesn't make sense, financially or otherwise, to work to improve a flawed bill that should never have been passed. Unfortunately, as long as politicians have to satisfy people, entities and groups that are far more powerful than the disability community, this is how it's going to be. Disability legislation has to be flawed and ineffective to be passed because it isn't really supposed to benefit us.

All I want is for all involved to be honest and upfront about this, because the act of passing ineffective legislation that is supposed to benefit people with disabilities is in itself, discriminatory. If we want this to change, we have to rise up and fight this. We have to explore creative, nonviolent ways to show those in power that though the vast majority of us are poor and unemployed, we are a force to be reckoned with. Sure, voting is very important, but it means nothing if the very culture and system on which this is based isn't dismantled and replaced with something more equitable and just. Otherwise, by accepting the "good start" rhetoric, we are complicit in our own harm.

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I'm Sick of "All Lives Matter"!

12/15/2014

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Lately, I've had White friends and colleagues come to me for guidance on how to be a good ally in the wake of recent events involving the murder and brutalization of unarmed and innocent Black men, women and children around the country. To be honest, I am happy that they trust me and my views enough to come to me with their questions and concerns.

One thing that I have been asked about is the hashtag, all lives matter, that is appearing all over Twitter and Facebook. I have been asked if I like it and should it be used. The short answer to both is NO!

On it's face, it seems good, but let me tell you why it's not good and why it is so offensive to me.

All lives matter was created in response to #BlackLivesMatter by White folks who were offended by that hashtag and wanted to try to say that the murder by police of Black men, women and children was not about race.

Let me tell you why this is highly offensive. All lives matter seeks to erase, indeed, obliterate Black voices in the conversation that IS about us. It is a derailing tactic used to take the focus off of us and make it all about them by equalizing things. It is a manifestation of the discomfort, guilt and defensiveness that many White folks harbor when the conversation is about race.

Look, folks, there is a reason why there is the hashtag, #BlackLivesMattter. That is because Black folks know that all lives matter, but lots of folks don't realize or care that Black lives matter, too. We are dealing with an epidemic that is only recently being realized and understood - that Black folks - men in particular, but also, many women and children - are having our lives ended at the hands of mostly White cops and vigilantes who see us as demons, threats, etc.

Some time ago, I wrote a blog post that I got pushback from the mostly White disability community because we were making the events in Ferguson all about us, instead of centering it where it belonged - on Black lives. I see this same thing happening with White supposed allies, both nondisabled and disabled, around the whole "all lives matter" issue because most cannot acknowledge that this isn't about equality because equality doesn't exist, nor did it ever, no matter how much we want it to. There are some lives that matter far more than others and trying to erase that fact by saying all lives matter isn't going to work.

Here's the deal: I don't do all lives matter because YOURS already matters - it's MINE that doesn't matter! It's ME as a BLACK person who has to assert and prove my humanity time after time. I'm the one who will be murdered for living while Black, then, demonized and blamed for my own death. I have said it before and I'll say it again: I endure FAR more discrimination because of my Black skin than I do as a disabled lesbian!

So, White allies and others, take note: We, as Black people know that all lives matter. Now it's time for you and everyone else to realize that ‪#‎BlackLivesMatter,‬ and let the focus and centering be on us, where it belongs!
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I Have No Refuge

12/4/2014

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I have come to understand that there is no self-care for me. I have no refuge from the injustice that gets worse by the day. I try to lighten the mood by posting funny pet pics and vids and acts of kindness, even if it is superficial, on social media. Still I can't get away, because I'm chastised by others who also can't get away, that I'm slipping, giving in, somehow, not being true because I'll try to snatch the tiniest bit of refuge from the pain in a kind act that shouldn't be, by someone who wouldn't afford me that kind act because of my color.

There is no hiding for me. I see, eat, hear, taste, smell injustice every waking minute. I live the struggle to keep people with disabilities from unnecessary institutionalization, to keep us from being killed, either by neglect or legislation, to ensure that we are thought of in the building of public spaces, in the Governor's budget, or in times of disaster.

I have no refuge from fear, exclusion, discrimination, othering. I cannot shut down. I cannot get away. I'm forever open to it, even in my sleep. With my waking eyes, I see the shadows of Mike, Eric, John, Ethan, Tamir, Renisha, Trayvon, Tajieme, London, and so many other men, women and children murdered by cops, vigilantes or parents who disposed of them simply because of their disabilities.

Every 28 hours, a Black man is killed by police or vigilantes and that doesn't even begin to address the Black women and children who die at the hand of amped up, racist cops and vigilantes. Each time I leave my house, I wonder will I join their ranks.

Sometimes, I get jealous, envious, angry, rage-filled that there is no refuge for me. It's not a matter of choice - I did not choose this Black, disabled lesbian body that I live in, so I cannot choose not to see or be subject to or survive the injustice, hatred and racism around me. I cannot escape it if I tried.

My White, straight, nondisabled friends can take a break for self-care - they can back away, not deal, refuse to see, hide until they feel safe enough to come back out. I'm not shaming them because they didn't choose to be who they are, either. At least, they have that to keep themselves sane. I just wish that my friends, who mean well, understand that I and others like me don't have that option.

When I hear people say, take a break, take care of yourself, do something fun, get out, I wish I could make them understand that for me, there is no break, no respite, no refuge except death, and that is permanent, and not an option - at least, not an option that I'll choose to take.

I wish that I can tell you what it feels like in my body to live this way, to always be in fear, on guard, ever vigilant, angry. There is a soul pain, a psychic pain, a spirit pain that never leaves me. There is a tense expectancy, heightened fear, awareness, waiting. There is sadness, hopelessness, a tiny kernel of bitterness and yes, a hatred for this unjust system that I can't get away from even in my sleep, even in my dreams.

I can't escape the words of hate, shame, recrimination, the taunts hurled at the memories of dead Black bodies, the hate unfurled against those who fight back against injustice with both rage and love, who have brought this to your neighborhood, your door, your face, and who inconvenienced you by blocking a street, a highway, a store, an agency, with their bodies so that you'll see in some small way, what we go through. I say we, because I am often one of the ones that you yell at, scream at, curse at, spit on, shove, hit in your rage and indignation - how DARE we put this on you!

So I try to take a second here and there to post a funny pic or vid on social media. I try to lose myself in my music, my books, my fantasies, my wife's arms, my cat's eyes, my friends' laughter, my hopes, my visions, my desire to try and pluck something good out of something problematic, even, sometimes, my writing. I try to hang on to something, even as I know the troubles linger in the background, indeed, all around me.

So, see - there is no refuge for me, no way of escaping, nowhere to hide from injustice, so I'm left to do the only thing I know to do - fight. Fight with anger. Fight with hope. Fight with love.
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