Why do we define such a thing as “normal” behavior? No one is normal, everyone is unique, everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses, quirks and faults, likes and dislikes, and so no one is really “normal”, everyone is “abnormal”. So why do we define some people as more abnormal than others? Where do we draw that line between what is the norm and not? What about this person has offended you so much that you need to stick a label on them and say they should act more normal?
I think it should be a goal of society to get to a point where we just are accepting of peoples individual needs without judgement and without setting certain people apart from others. For instance, I would not question someone wearing headphones on their way to class any more than I would someone who was stimming while on their way. Everyone has their own needs, no matter a diagnosis. If someone in our class needed the windows to be unshaded, or the noise level to be low, we would happily conform to allow that. However in some circumstances, such as a business setting or a less relaxed class, people may be less inclined to provide these accommodations.
This is not to say that I do not support the diagnosing of mental illness or neurodivergency, I am simply saying that we shouldn’t treat diagnosed people any differently than people without diagnosis. Everyone has needs and it is up to us whether we accommodate for those needs and to what degree. As a society we can decide to accommodate the best we can, and just as importantly we can not isolate people with greater needs than others and not oust them from society.
As we discuss the lived experiences of disabled people, it is so important we uncover the systemic methods of rendering them invisible to media and government focus. A facet of Israel’s occupation on Palestinian land that does not get nearly enough attention is how it has failed disabled people for years and has only been discussed by humanitarian aid organizations in the last 4 years. These acts of suppression and terror toward the community has only gotten worse from their already bleak reality with the ongoing siege and blockade on Gaza. When we campaign for the rights of disabled people across the world it is so important, now more than ever, to understand the intersectionality of marginalization inflicted by the oppressive systems in place to bar them from the kind of world we envision.
Israel’s unlawful closure of Gaza for 16 years has led to a general deflection of resources to support individuals with disabilities in day-to-day functions, including prohibitions on importing hearing aids and batteries, wheelchairs, functional prostheses, crutches, and more. People with visual, hearing, developmental, or intellectual disabilities are especially in danger from the indiscriminate attacks on Gaza because they may not hear, know about, understand, or be able to react to what is happening. If advance warnings are provided to civilians at all they come 3 to 5 minutes before they are in danger of having their location bombed. It gets even more difficult for individuals who require greater support from infrastructure crafted around their disabilities to evacuate.
” Zahra Al Madhoun, a 39-year-old woman with a physical disability, initially decided to stay behind when her family fled. “They didn’t give us a safe place to go to,” Al Madhoun said. However, she fled a few days later after she said she received a call from someone purporting to be Israeli intelligence warning her to go south. “My home was my safe place. I only left because of the call. I was afraid I would be the only one to stay behind.” Al Madhoun is currently living in a displaced persons’ camp in dire conditions and said she was considering returning home. ” (Human Rights Watch, November 1st 2023)
Moreover, disabled people experience high levels of psychological distress owing to the helplessness they feel about potentially having to evacuate areas that Israel may eventually target as they eradicate Palestinians from their own land.
” Samih Al Masri, a 50-year-old man who said he lost both legs in an Israeli drone strike in 2008, said he was sheltering at al-Quds hospital in Gaza City, but does not feel safe anywhere: “If they bomb the hospital, I will be dead. I know I cannot move. ” (Human Rights Watch, November 1st 2023)
It is essential that we continue campaigning for the rights of disabled people across the world as we revolt against the systems of oppression in place, especially in occupied areas, and put them in the spotlight of our discussions because their reality consistently goes underrepresented in conversations and calls to action across the board. The ceasefire we are demanding from Israel is to spare all of Palestine and its residents of the genocide and crime against humanity it is actively committing.
I urge you all to keep reading, keep advocating, keep crying, keep fighting, and keep putting pressure on our representatives and government to call for a ceasefire and free Palestine.
When is it that we, as beings, become aware of our physical forms? When does that awareness give way to insecurity and how is insecurity operationalized to control every aspect of our lives?
It seems as though, for as long as I can remember, my apperance was a defining factor in my life. It was the way others perceived my health, activity levels, “laziness,” essentially attempting to paint a full picture of my life, often without knowing me at all. Eventually, it became the way I valued myself, always hoping and striving to look different, to weigh less.
As a member of the South Asian diaspora, it is culturally common to be blunt about one’s appearance. To comment on one’s weight and features as a “sign of care” and “worry”. Meaning that comments about my body were constantly fed to me. I was told consistently in parties, gatherings, pujas1 how I should feel about it and what I needed to do to change it.
Third grade was the first time I could recall feeling insecure about my body, a feeling that lasted well into my early college years, and even now hums faintly in the background crevices of my mind. It was at this age when unsolicited weight loss advice began. Despite understanding that I existed in a physical body, I was not truly aware of MY body until this point. It was others’ comments about my body, my weight, my skin that flipped this switch in my mind. It was in daily, never-ending comments from family members, members of the community, even strangers at my grandfather’s funeral that I learned my thoughts and my actions would always be secondary in value to my physical self, which they did not deem worthy.
Weight and more specifically weight loss became a constant on mind. As I took my first breath each morning and as my eyes closed in the nights, it was my first and last thought. It became an obsession where my weight seemed to be the only thing holding me back from realizing my life’s full potential. I developed an unhealthy relationship with external validation which spilled over into the fundamentals of other aspects of my life, namely my academics. It was not until the period of Covid-19 isolation, that these thoughts slowed down. It was at this time that I no longer felt compelled to compare myself to others. I had learned to tune out the majority of comments from family as well, and I realized that there was and is much more to a life and to one’s value and worth as a person. Though, this will continue to be a struggle for me as I grow, I hope that my negative self-image will only further diminish with time. I strive to do better for future generations of my family and generally as a member of this vibrant and diverse world.
“It gets better” is a phrase I have heard alot recently and its starting to drive me crazy. Ive been through this part of depression before, I know it gets better, I am still fighting each and everyday to get out of bed and brush my teeth and try and be a functioning human. I don’t want to hear, “It gets better” I want to be told that its okay to lay in bed for a little and if all I did today was drink soup in my bed, then atleast I ate. It is that time of year when people start to feel down because of the weather, but for me, its that in combination of loads of unhealed trauma from my childhood coming to the surface.
Being knowledgeable or intersectional or just having empathy is so hard when we live in a world that is constantly trying to take away these things. Anti-intellectualism is on the rise, intersectionality is looked down on, and caring about people other than you is a bizarre concept. I am tired and sad and frankly pissed off.
WHY… why can’t society just grow up and change?! I am begging, millions of us are begging, screaming, pleading that the people who have the power to change society move an inch- I’d even be happy with a centimeter. My brothers and sisters are dying every day, we are fighting every day and it seems like it is for nothing but entertainment for those who do not have to worry. For those who live a life of privilege and comfort. Their entertainment is seeing little black boys and little brown girls cry tears of blood and grief for their families who are dead- rather I say killed because that’s what it was.
I cry for the unborn children who were killed because they would have been born with impairments, this is eugenics. I cry for the neurodivergent kid who is having a meltdown as we speak and is being called hardheaded or bad when all they need is quiet or a weighted blanket. I cry for the wheelchair user who lives in fear of an intruder or a fire because they know that they might be left behind. After all, that is what people are taught. I cry until my body is dehydrated and I pass out, hoping to wake up and see that it was all a bad dream.
When I was young I knew the world was not a perfect place but I could have never thought I’d live in a dystopia only Steven King could imagine. Wu-Tang Clan once said CREAM, cash ruins everything around me, this could not be clearer to me than it is today. Imperialism has its claws on the neck of the Middle East and Africa, people are not even seen as people they are bodies of exploitation. Being used up until they drop only to be replaced by literal children. Tupac said THUGLIFE, the hate u give little infants fucks everybody, racism, ableism, and sanism is being embedded into kids’ minds. They see their parents and role models being attacked and we expect that harshness and resistance to not be ingrained in their head?
If things keep going the way they’re going I don’t know how much I can take, my heart can’t take it anymore. And if I have to think about who to vote for I’m going to scream.
I am burnt the fuck out. My body is tired. My mind is tired. It is quite clearly being reflected in multiple facets of my life. I don’t even have the energy to speak to people much anymore. Classes where attendance is mandatory have not been seeing me. My grades were fine but now they’re dropping a bit and I just don’t know how to cope with this. This is reflected within my style as well. One of the biggest signs of burnout I have come to realize in myself is that my outfit is pretty simple, that’s not a regular thing for me.
I feel terrible. I look in the mirror and I can’t recognize myself. All I see is the numerous horrendous bags under my eyes. I’m trying. I really am trying not to let my exhaustion consume me and derail the academic success I’ve set myself up for but I’m having a hard time coping. This type of stress should not be the norm for college students. We aren’t even guaranteed a secure job at the end of this all so is it worth the mental strain? I question this everyday. All I do know is that I am burnt the fuck out and don’t know how to deal with it.
The idea of marriage and pregnancy is both an exciting and terrifying thought for me. The joy of building a family clashes with the fear that my painful period cramps made me think my future pregnancy journey might be difficult . It’s disheartening to think that something that I go through every month could alter the course of my future. My period cramps are so severe that I am unable to get out of bed or even function properly. It’s scary to think that something that brings so much joy to others could be such a painful experience for me. I worry that my spouse might not understand my pain or that he will not know how to help me. My concerns also extend to the childbirth process. How can I prepare for giving birth if I am already struggling with menstrual pain? I fear that I won’t be mentally or physically strong enough to make it through childbirth.
However, I am trying to focus on the positive and work through my fears. Learning about different techniques and remedies that can help me manage my pain has been comforting. Speaking to other women who have experienced similar issues has also given me hope and allowed me to see that I am not alone. While I am still nervous about the unknowns, I am determined not to let my fears control my life. I will continue to educate myself, take care of myself, and seek help when needed. I will try to embrace the joy of building a family and recognize that though the road might be bumpy, it’s a journey worth taking.
I am nervous about the idea of marriage and family, purely because of the potential discomfort that will come with pregnancy. It feels like an impossible hurdle to overcome. I can only imagine how much more severe the cramps would be during pregnancy. It terrifies me to think about it, and I’m struggling to see a way out. But as time went on , I decided to speak out to others about my experiences more. And in doing so, people have been sharing resources and tips to help me manage my discomfort. I’ve learned about various treatments and pain relief techniques, such as over-the-counter medication, heat therapy, and exercise, that have helped make my periods more bearable. The thought of marriage and family doesn’t scare me as much as it did before, knowing that I have resources and support available if I need it. Though the pain isn’t gone, I have learned that it can be managed. And with this newfound knowledge, I can move forward, knowing that I can face whatever the future brings.
This is the main character (Auggie Pullman) from the movie/book Wonder. He was born with Treacher Collins syndrome. It is described as a “rare craniofacial disorder that causes major malformations of the face.
I remember reading Wonder when I was in about 4th grade. When it first came out, I fell in love with the writing. I admired the new perspectives the book offered on disability that wasn’t usually addressed in school and kid/preteen literature at the time. For those who haven’t read it, Wonder focuses on the life of a disabled young boy named Auggie. It depicts the trials and tribulations he experiences going to public middle school for the first time and how it affects him and the people around him. A few years later, they made a movie. I watched it and loved it. Well, when I was younger.
I later watched it again around the age of 17. I can still say I enjoyed it but I did have my critiques, as did others. I felt like it stayed true to the book, and captured the complexity of relationships. However, in my opinion, I do feel they do not authentically represent the severity of Auggie’s disability in the movie regarding the makeup and script, making it more comfortable for people who weren’t disabled. This is a critique many others share, explaining why the movie got much lower ratings and lots of criticism, especially from other people in the disabled community. I think these critiques propose an important question, “At what point do decisions make about the presentation of disabilities within society reflect an ableist viewpoint?”
This is a question that is explored by many people and has a different answer from person to person. One article I think that gives a very important viewpoint on this topic is Critics Question the Representation of Disability in ‘Wonder’ written by Lauren Barack. She focuses on the perspective of Mike Moody. A 21-year-old female who was born with Crouzon syndrome, a disability very similar to that of Auggies’. With that shared experience, he expresses his discontent with the representation of disability within the movie. She discusses how she disliked how directors had “Tremblay appear disfigured, instead of hiring an actor who is.” She goes on to further criticize the film by saying “The film just seems to hop on the bandwagon of disability. It’s ‘inspiration porn’, the same driven by films like The Theory of Everything—films that treat disability as a costume, that kind of attitude permeates through the films to the audience. Actors who portray disabled people are revered, and disabled people (especially actors) are ignored.”
Though it can be seen as “harsh” this critique Moody expresses is one that many people agree with, including myself. Seeing the drastic changes in Auggie’s disability in the book versus the movie does make me question the underlying ableism within the production. It also demonstrates the constant fucked up reality that people with disabilities constantly have to face: having to change and diminish themselves for the comfort of others.
So recently, my partner of almost two years ended things with me but said they still wanted to be friends. They said that they no longer had romantic feelings for me but rather felt as if our dynamic was more like good friends. Why don’t you just literally rip my heart out of my chest instead? I am polyamorous but they were my longest partner. I started to feel them drifting away slowly but I decided to not prod them about it in fear of what the answer could have been, but I guess I got the answer either way…. Some of my friends don’t understand why I am upset about losing a partner because “You have other partners” but that isn’t how things work, it still hurts to lose someone in any capacity of the word. Also, the relationship was long distance with them living in California and me being in Maryland. It was an online relationship but we would snapchat every day and video chat every so often when our schedules would allow it.
On a different note, my newest partner (who is local yay) told me that they were talking to someone named Mae and I asked what they looked like because I dated a person named Mae a few months ago. Lo and behold it was my EX. I told them I wasn’t comfortable about them talking but my partner said they have been talking since November 3rd and that they really like each other and want to see where things go… I don’t like it at all…. not one bit, but i don’t want to lose my partner either so i just told them to do whatever they want and just don’t tell me. I just wish I didn’t know ANYTHING. Should I have broken up with them because they didn’t really respect my wishes or am i being selfish?
In first grade, I decided to sit on the bus next to this girl I thought was really cool. She was so good at drawing and made the whole bus laugh when she made a joke. I sat down and she talked to me like we were already best friends. Soon enough, I’m invited to her birthday party. Over the next 10 years, we spent summers walking to the ice cream shop together and watching silly movies on the weekends. One of the first times she came over, her mom picked her up and asked her to wait in the car. I secretly listened from the stairs as her mom explained to my mom, “we think she’s got autism, but more like Asperger’s. Thank you for having her over. Did she give you any trouble? We prefer having them hang out at our house just so no tantrums are thrown.” I remember thinking to myself, “autism? Asperger’s? She’s like my best friend, how could she have autism?” It wasn’t long before I was using the internet to search my curiosities and found so many confusing sources. It was later on that I saw what her mom was talking about. However, it never really changed our friendship. I knew she acted a little different than I did but I still loved her. It wasn’t until middle school when she got formally diagnosed. It was so hard for other people to see it; she was so sociable and funny, it didn’t fit the norm of what people thought autism looked like. I remember when she got emotional as she told me that she had autism, and I told her it didn’t change a thing. Although we aren’t friends anymore, she was one of my best friends for a long time and she made me a better person in so many ways.
In second grade, I weirded out the girl at my table in school. She even asked to be moved tables because I was a bit too excitable for her. A few weeks later, we became close friends as well. She was much more quiet. She hated confrontation, while I didn’t mind talking back to the bossy girls. We simply complimented each other in so many ways. She was good at everything she tried, musically and academically. I always strived to her level but often fell short. She inspired me, while I later found out that I inspired her to be more outgoing. It wasn’t until middle school that she got diagnosed with autism as well. Not a thing changed. To this day, she is one of my dearest friends.
My sophomore of college, I found myself rooming in an apartment with pretty much strangers. 3 girls who were already friends had invited me to live with them. One of them I clicked with immediately. Together, we sat on the couch for hours, switching between studying and watching dumb TV shows. We went on insane amounts of Dunkin trips and laughed about everything. When we disagreed, we disagreed strongly but when we agreed, it was a passion. She self-identified with autism spectrum disorder, I later found out. Not a thing changed. She graduated this year but I still message her often. She made my sophomore year filled with laughter and fun.
A few months ago, I moved in to my apartment with two girls I didn’t know. I found myself being joined on the couch for my studying sessions and watching dumb TV shows. One of the girls found me funny and loved to listen to my stories. She’s bright and has lived a life different than mine yet we are so similar. She decorates for holidays and has a box of fidget toys that we all play with during our late-night roommate debriefs. She told me that she also self-identifies with autism spectrum disorder. At this point, I know that it would not change a thing. I can’t wait for our friendship to continue to blossom.
Throughout my life, I have been surrounded by neurodivergent individuals, whether I knew it at the time or not, these are just a few examples that stand out. At first it may have been confusing, but I quickly learned what was so special about it. Something about these wonderful people in my life has drawn me to them. I am neurodivergent, although I do not have autism, but I do understand autism to an extent I wish more people would. Some of the most important and incredible people in my life have ASD and I would never want them to change. They do not need a cure. The ways that they are different have made me a more understanding, intrigued, passionate person who is continuously inspired by them; not because they have autism, but because of who they are and autism just happens to be apart of that.
To all the underrepresented people who have struggled with getting an autism diagnosis: I see you, I hear you, and you are valid. It is not your fault that our classrooms didn’t introduce us to different minds and didn’t show us how to embrace your differences. I have seen with my own eyes the struggle my women friends had in recognizing they have autism and the impacts of their symptoms getting overlooked.
Surrounding yourself with friendships of people that are different than you is what makes you a well-rounded, empathetic, worldly person. Some people only stick to people exactly the same as them. This, I will never understand. Our differences make us much more interesting, don’t you think?
Two girls riding on their bikes. This was one of my favorite things to do with the first friend I mentioned.
A google search of the word “autism”, showing almost exclusively young boys as examples.
Unruly Bodies 