Tag Archive: coalitions


Krip Hop Nation in ATL and other events like it (such as the DaDa Fest in England next month) subvert the traditional model of disability awareness by encouraging people in the crowd to acknowledge and even *gasp* celebrate disability culture. Part of the beauty of Krip Hop is that interweaves exposing the truth about negotiating the disability experience – stigma, love, desire… really everything  – with kick ass art and beats. Throughout the day the artists and panelists revealed raw emotions and a spectrum of analyses about disability.  Some of the comments expressed by the panelists and artists were not in line with my philosophy of disability, but I am working on seeing the value in the diversity of our voices. It is more honest to have variability of voices and understandings of disability rather than having a monolithic representation of disability – even if that monolith is reflective of my sexy understanding of disability.

Much of the content was emotionally and spiritually intense. I shared many of the feelings expressed about struggling to figure out ways to love my disabled body in a culture that devalues us.  I loved hearing stories of journeying to self love. Our community so rarely takes up this conversation. We speak of disability pride and political resistance– but we don’t talk about how we have to figure out ways to embrace our krip beauty and really come to a state of love. That missing dialog around love is so needed. I challenge all of us in the disability realm – disabled folks, our families, friends, etc. – to examine whether we are following dominant disability discourse by trying to “look beyond disability” to love the person or if we can have, even just brief moments, love of the whole package. Can YOU say I love disability? Maybe we need to practice together or privately in the mirror – saying I love THIS (my/your) krippy body, mind, sensory system, etc. I try to do this and certainly does not work every day. Sometimes the weathering of ableism and other isms that mandate perfection, just make it too difficult to look in the mirror and like what I see. I’ve said it before that is also difficult to hear from my partner that she sees me as beautiful and loves all of me – when I don’t. Clearly, this is an area to work on – for me and I bet for you. Let’s try to talk about this more.

The idea of loving disability and celebrating our culture causes cognitive dissonance in most people, including many disabled folks. Many seem quite hostile to the idea that disabled people can come to a place of self-love. In fact, the idea that a disabled person could love themselves is framed as delusional too many; which is in line with a guiding disability principle in our culture – we should all want to be able-bodied or assimilate into normalcy as much as possible (i.e. compulsory able-bodiedness).

This is why moments where we can have honest expressions and celebrations of disability culture – in its many forms – are so valuable to disabled people and society generally. I know many of the disabled people there really valued the moment to just breathe in KripLove and to celebrate us. The profound feeling of commonality in our experiences of difference really helped crystallize the growing feeling I have of love for my community. The after party only added to my growing KripLove, as it was a small collective of the artists and a few friends who get disability. The space we had is much like what bell hooks describes in “Loving Blackness as a Form of Political Resistance” in Killing Rage: Ending Racism – a place of emotional refuge where no one had to ask for access, hide attempts at making space easier for our navigation or explain disability basics. We could be ourselves. It was not perfect because we human and still managed to say some offensive things – but it felt really nice and cozy to curl up in a pile of KripLove! It was a perfect way to ring my 30th birthday. It’s so refreshing and recharging to be in that space after weathering the ableist world.

Group of Krip Friends: Robin, me, Keith, Ryan and Leroy in a loving pile on a couch

KripLove Pile!

The following day I spent many hours feeling KripLove surging through my body. I cried tears of joy, as I went over the event in my head and looked through our photos. This was much like the feeling I got from hosting the disability and sexuality conference at UF in 2005 – an overwhelming feeling of peace, as though I achieved something that I was supposed to do. For the UF conference, I glowed for about a week over a job well done – a well-attended event that was profound because it explored KripSex, an issue still rarely spoken of.

This time around my joy was cut a bit short through challenges of language at the event and critiques on ways it could have been better. Maybe my skin was thicker when I was younger – because I thrived on the editorials written about how awful I was for hosting a “freak show” with an adult film star talking about disability issues – or maybe it all just means more to me now to have people really feel the message I’m trying to share about disability.

I want people to get what I am doing – trying to shift social conception around disability. I want people to be liberated from the shackles of disability oppression, because it’s not just me and my krip siblings that hurt from these ideas of bodily, intellectual and sensory perfection – it’s all of us. Disability liberation is CENTRAL TO ALL of our liberation. That is what I want people to understand: this revolution of love, especially of the Krip flavor, is for everyone. I say this because if we all really LOVED DISABILITY – just imagine what cultural doors that would open (and be wide enough, with ramps, braille notations, lights, etc.) around our collective interpretation of the meaning of bodies. This could be a huge title wave of relief for so many people who hate our bodies because our culture teaches we shouldn’t or we can’t. Dream and talk about the possibilities of this with your comrades.

In response to a recent blogroll on Disablism – I chose to share a talk I gave last week about poverty and disability for Georgia State University’s chapter of Amnesty Intentional; specifically to address their new “Demand Dignity Campaign.” I chose this topic because it is a perfect example of an aspect of the institution of oppression associated with disability – ableism/disablism/disablement (these labels vary by context, country, and linguistic leaning).

Disability Defined

I began with a definition of disability using the definition set-forth in Article 1 of the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD). Persons with disabilities include those who have long-term physical, mental, intellectual or sensory impairments which in interaction with various barriers may hinder their full and effective participation in society on an equal basis with others.

This definition is useful for three reasons. 1) It is relevant to describe exactly what disability entails when espousing a theory related to disability to people who claim no disability knowledge thereof – even though we are everywhere. 2) It is imperative when talking about any issue – particularly on a global level – that uniform definitions be utilized. Uniform definitions help with effective assessment and quantification of any variable appealing to funders and people who want to know the scope of a given issue. And it seems that a definition that was arbitrated and agreed upon by a global constituency seems to be a good place to start to find a uniform definition. 3) The definition gets at the sociocultural aspect of disability that is so often glossed over when talking about disability; with the normative understanding of disability entailing a personal tragedy that structural and environmental forces play no role in.  The sociocultural component of disability (disablement) will be taken up at length in a moment.

The United States is one of the 144 signatories of the CRPD yet did not ratify it (only 85 nation-states did). When a nation-state ratifies a treaty it becomes binding law in their land. Therefore the ideas codified in the CRPD could be actually enforced in the US. Gasp! What do you mean people could have the right to free from torture (Article 15) and be included in the community (Article 19) – i.e. not be institutionalized? Well, not in the United States. Why, you may ask?  Ah good ole American Exceptionalism – the idea that we already have good binding law in our land (the Americans with Disabilities Act – ADA) thus do not need any other doctrine to rule. The problem with our fabulous US law, the ADA, is that it is an unfunded mandate – to enforce it one has to sue and most disabled people are economically ghettoized making it difficult, if not impossible, to enforce the law.

Did the US not sign the CRPD because we do not want to be held to an international standard of human rights law?

Disability & Poverty Globally

Before getting into the specifics of the economics of disability in the United States, it’s important to note that disabled people comprise the world’s largest and poorest minority group.  We are often the poorest of the poor and the most isolated of the isolated.  Of the 650 million disabled people in the world, 2/3 of us live in poverty.  Of those, 650 million disabled people, 100 million of them are impaired because of issues stemming from poverty – malnutrition and poor sanitation.  This fact illuminates a dynamic with poverty – in which poverty creates disability AND disability enables poverty. This cycle of the poverty is illustrated below.

Disability in America

According to the US Census Bureau report on disability in 2005, 1 in 5 people are disabled equaling 54.4 million people. Of those who are working age, 30.7% of disabled people are employed compared to 75.2% of nondisabled people of the same age.  The 2 million disabled people incarcerated in institutions nationally are not included in Census numbers.

The American Disability Poverty Trap

The question implicated from the above recitation of disability statistics is: what happens to all the working age disabled people who want to work but aren’t?  This question acknowledges that there are some/many people who don’t want to work and think we should get over the idea that personhood hinges on working.

Those of us who can’t or don’t work often have to rely on the vicious machine of social support which come in the form of Social Security Income (SSI) and Social Security Disability Income (SSDI). The viciousness of this system comes to fruition in its creation and maintenance of poverty for disabled people.

About 9 million disabled people receive SSI or SSDI in the US, with 75% kept at or below the poverty line.  The statement cannot be made universally that SSI and SSDI compels poverty because of the nature of the funding systems. SSDI is something one pays into and can procure after acquiring disability – so the amount one gets is contingent on how much one made during their nondisabled days (similar to unemployment).  SSI is funded through state and federal dollars so in some states one could get (in theory) a livable amount of money. For example, in California one can make about $800 dollars on SSI, whereas in Georgia one can make about $600. Neither of those sums of cash seem livable. I dare you to try to live on that income and survive; actually I don’t.

Another big problem in this system is all the disincentives that are associated with getting off these forms of income (and OUT of poverty). To procure SSI or SSDI one must demonstrate they cannot work and are really disabled. The latter is almost humorous because so many of my federally defined “severely disabled” friends and I have been denied SSI because we “aren’t disabled enough” despite wheels, spazliciousness, etc. Proving we cannot work creates a deleterious psychological barrier for disabled people. Through shoring up our case that we need social support, we have to argue the point so strongly  that we might internalize it as truth. This internalization reifies the culturally pervasive assumption that disabled people have no work-value. This assumption is aided by (and pushed on us through) the network of people who make a living by establishing and enforcing the boundaries to procure SSI and SSDI.  It is reasonable to assume that those pushing the “lack of work-value” ethos actually believe it.

Perhaps the psychological barriers argument seems a bit soft-science driven your sensibilities, so here are some hard facts. If a disabled person wanted to make more money (to survive) than SSI or SSDI provides, they might seek additional sources of income. But SSI and SSDI benefits are reduced by $1 dollar for every $2 dollars of additional earnings procured; that’s a tax rate of 50% (higher than that of the wealthiest people in the US). Who wants high-taxation that keep people in a system “draining” taxes? Along with the extreme tax-rate of earned income, disabled people may lose their housing subsidies and food-stamps when seeking to earn money other than social benefits.

Even more alarming is that one will lose healthcare (Medicaid and Medicare) if a disabled person procures “too much” additional funds. This is one of the most diabolical active agents of the disability poverty trap because so many of us are dependent on healthcare. This is especially true for people who need long-term support care (or attendant care to help with activities of daily living, like bathing and dressing). Thus disabled people have the choice – do we take the leap and hope that a job we procure can provide good healthcare (and has no “pre-existing conditions” clause) or do we stay in the system to survive? Also, what happens during the gap between losing a dream job and the struggle to get back in the system to survive?

As a sexologist I cannot neglect to mention the disincentive to marriage that is associated with the procurement of SSI and SSDI.  In sum, disabled people may lose their benefits if they marry because their partner’s income will be judged as their own assets. This can mean that marrying someone living at or just above the poverty line can trigger loss of benefits – and loss of survivability for disabled people and their partners. This puts some folks in a precarious situation because they want to marry – and not live “in sin” – but can’t (coalition-building example here with queers seeking marriage rights).

These facts address the fallacious and oppressive idea that disabled people (along with others trying to survive on social benefits) enjoy a great life “draining” the government.

Underpinnings of the American Disability Poverty Trap

Undergirding the disability poverty trap is our history of pathologization and devaluation (i.e. stigma) that is enacted in discrimination.  Stated another way, disabled people historically have experienced structural violence through forcing us to live in cultural or environmental locations that harm or claim our lives. This hinges on the archaic belief that there is a biological root to our “degeneracy.” This is part of the philosophy of the rampant eugenics movement which occurred in the US until the early 1970s. Eugenic programs targeted not just disabled people, but people of color and those improvised as well (a good coalition-building example). Some disabled people still face sterilization but are not often outright called “degenerates” anymore. Current examples of sterilization are framed as benevolent treatments that help protect us from sexual violence and render us more manageable for our-givers. The passing of time has really brought progressive values.

Many people profit off of our devalued social position, as there is an industry of “care” built around disability. The most lucrative example is institutionalization – with 2 million inmates in nursing homes that are often run for profit (2/3 are) and where one crip body can earn $30,000-$82,000 annually. Ending institutionalization is a heated issue, in which many people are against. As an example, in many localities institutions/nursing homes provide a large portion of the jobs in the area. Understandably many people want to have jobs so they can survive and legislators protect this voiced economic interest of their (valued?) constituencies. What’s lost in the fight for workers’ rights is the rights of disabled people.

Does the disability poverty trap appear to be a cultural caste system – in which disabled people are assessed value based on particular (sometimes immutable) trait?

Ending the Disability Poverty Trap

To address the problem of poverty globally, it is important to examine the cultural context of disability. This means it is unreasonable to assume that disablement operates the same in every location and work that seeks to ameliorate disabled people cannot only employ a western understanding of disability. It requires those who want to work on this issue to listen to the people in the locations we seek to help.

In the United States, many people are working to change the social status of and the social services for disabled people. Crip shoutout to ADAPT: the rabble-rousing group of uppity crips who comprise the radical direct-action contingent of the disability rights movement. ADAPT works to end the Medicaid-bias toward institutionalization and promote accessible affordable housing for all. Check out the narrative of their recent in action in DC by sexy friend Philosopher Crip. Resolving the two issues ADAPT focuses on will help promote the human rights, inclusion and visibility of disabled people – thus working to eliminate the traditional sociocultural understanding of disability that undergirds the disability poverty trap.

That seems to be one of our biggest problems – dominant culture does not value disabled people. The graph below helps illustrate that at the root of the disability poverty trap (and the circular nature of poverty creating disability, as well as disability causing poverty) are sociocultural values that harm disabled people.  Thus, if parties are really invested in ending the disability poverty trap, it is crucial to work to dismantle the negative assumptions associated with disability, as well the enactment of those assumptions. This is how work like that around sexuality and social inclusion are useful to address the political economy of disablement.

Please consider working with the disability rights movement, if you aren’t already. Support work done by groups like ADAPT. Critically engage your (and others) understanding of what constitutes valued personhood. Subvert the understanding of normal (at least in your own mind). As cheesy as it may sound, through changing minds, we can change the world.

I just submitted a paper to Atlantis with my good friend and colleague from SF State’s Sexuality Studies graduate program Sonny on coalitional politics and embodied scholar-activist efforts to further a theory we call bodiosexual justice.

Bodiosexual justice is a neologism (= nerd sex) that is meant to convey how our trans and disabled bodies are similarly stigmatized, how this stigma impacts our sexual health, and how our oppressions stem from similar sources thus encouraging us to work together to further embodied justice. We discussed how queer bodies – those deemed “Others” through the social construction of the imagined normate, including aging, poor, fat, raced, trans bodies, and disabled bodies etc. – are often denigrated through interlocking systems of structural and conceptual oppressions.

We shared our very personal narratives and experiences working together.  We did not speak for other identity groups who have queer bodies because we recognize that is often a part of the oppression we seek to redress.  A substantive component of the piece dealt with the practicalities of coalition building – with a lot of the focus on the role of emotional work  and honest communication in effective coalition building.  It was one of the most beautiful writing experiences of my life, largely because I reclaimed a sense of rabid activism in my writing.

Somewhere along the way in procuring degrees and mentally jerking off with more and more nerds, I lost my edge and started to feel I had to rely on other people’s voices entirely too much.  While I used citations in this piece to respect the work I build on, Sonny and I both engaged with our embodied identity knowledge as sources of expertise.  It was liberating and emotionally gratifying. It made me cry and shake a bit from feeling like I was being more honest with myself and others than I have been in a long time. I credit love, dealing with my most recent injury, and blogging with the specific intent of trying to capture in writing the way I give speeches for this reclamation of my activist voice.

Below are enhanced/altered pieces (for copyright purposes) of my crip narrative that was part of the paper:

In my ten years of working in disability culture/studies, I have journeyed from a self-loathing disabled person who struggled to admit my disability to a self-described uppity crip. My sexy comrade Robert McRuer (2006) explains that the word ‘crip’ works to build coalitions across different disabilities (parallel to the word ‘queer’) and signals proclamation of disability pride by reforming and embracing a historically derogatory word (i.e. ‘cripple’). My use of the word ‘crip’ provides me a method to deny compulsory able-bodiedness through verbal assault.  McRuer makes clear that able-bodiedness is an institution in which American culture “assumes in advance that we all agree: able-bodied identities, able-bodied perspectives are preferable and what we all, collectively, are aiming for.”

Though some disabled people strive for able-bodiedness through the search for a cure, most notoriously (and disdained among many uppity crips) Christopher Reeve and his campaign to cure his spinal cord injury, many of us embrace our queer bodies and feel better in our skin by doing so. This is true for me; as I decided at the age of fifteen to begin to use a wheelchair despite my mothers decry that I “would never live a normal life” if I did not walk. I stopped walking because I went through a cycle of several fractures stemming from having brittle bones and a femur and double tibia rodding surgery that kept me bed-ridden for about six months. It exhausted my mental health and I decided walking was not worth the psychological cost.

The shift to using a wheelchair has made me more visibly queer. This visible push farther outside the bounds of normalcy has forced me to work to reconcile the “jagged edge between [acculturated] self-hatred and pride” (as the delicious poet/activist Eli Clare wrote) because my queer body provokes daily reminders of my non-normativity, often through being the object of staring and/or intrusive questions about my body. Often I find these socially acceptable microaggressions to be more taxing and disturbing than other aspects of ableism, such as lacking physical access, because they happen so frequently. Despite the exhausting nature of being a spectacle, I find using a wheelchair to be freeing; I can now glide through life as fast as I want without the pain and struggle related to walking. And in making the decision to wheel, I have allowed myself to live my “normal” life – i.e. the way my body feels most comfortable.

Interrogating disability through my work has been revolutionary for me because it has helped shift the focus away from my body as a problem to society as the problem. This idea captures the social model of disability by moving away from the medical model through separating the personal issue (impairment) from the social issue (environmental and attitudinal oppression).

This theory often fails crips because it prevents acknowledging emotional realities of frustration noted in impairment. It creates a political impetus to be silent about our nuanced realities; this denies us the ability to confess the embodied nature of disability. This recent realization that I do not always have to pander to the requirements of the social model has been liberating because it allows me to acknowledge that it is difficult when I am in physical pain and/or frustrated with my impairment. Likewise, the daunting process of breaking apart internalized disability narratives may not end until oppression ends; therefore it is reasonable to feel sad and angry when negotiating stigma.

Much of my anger stems from internalized ableism and shame around my body.  Sonny has helped me reframe my sense of shame by stating “shame=oppression and shame=injustice… [this] helps me to feel validated in my shame because [I realize] it comes from outside, even though it is a very internal emotion.”  Even Karl Marx is in concurrence here as he wrote “shame is the fuel of revolutionary consciousness.”  Processing and talking about internalized shame is a revolutionary process.

But to be clear there is a lot to be angry about aside from internalized shame.  And being angry or sad does NOT make me a bad scholar-activist!  Anger is often the fuel of revolutionary acts.

Pervasive social assumptions about disabled people  make us justly pissed.  Some of those commonly-held disability assumptions include the belief that disabled people are childlike, dependent, and asexual or hypersexual.  These ideas compose part of disability oppression.

The effects of these misconceptions entail the legitimation and social endorsement of human rights violations exacted upon us.  A few are highlighted here.  Globally, disabled people comprise the world’s largest (650 million or 10% of the population) and poorest minority group, amounting to about 20% of the world’s poorest people. Disabled people continue to be “humanely” sterilized and killed in various places around world, including most aggressively in the Netherlands. And while eugenics is often perceived as a Nazi project, US legislation for compulsory sterilization of ‘degenerates’ – including intellectually and/or physically disabled people; especially those of color – existed nearly a decade before the Nazis started 4 Tiergartenstraße and served as its model. Disabled people are subject to countless hate crimes, often unreported and at the hands of our care-givers; yet until 2009 were not a protected class of people in United States federal legislation.

Along with denying disabled people our basic human rights, these commonly held beliefs about disability are sociopolitically disempowering. Even those of us who are not incarcerated in institutions face extreme social isolation due to lacking physical access, accessible transportation and/or adequate monetary and social support.

All of these issues have a deleterious impact on our sexual health. The World Health Organization (2006) has called for a holistic understanding of sexuality in which sexual health is defined as: a state of physical, emotional, mental and social well-being in relation to sexuality; it is not merely the absence of disease, dysfunction or infirmity. Sexual health requires a positive and respectful approach to sexuality and sexual relationships, as well as the possibility of having pleasurable and safe sexual experiences, free of coercion, discrimination and violence. For sexual health to be attained and maintained, the sexual rights of all persons must be respected, protected and fulfilled.

This definition makes clear that disparities in sexual health are often a result of the presence of oppressive social forces, such as discrimination and coercion.Therefore, disability oppression does not just wok to make disabled people poor, subject to abuse, sterilized or killed; it also harms our overall sense of health.

I encourage everyone to get emotionally naked and join Sonny and I in this incredibly enriching intellectual orgy of embodied praxis by engaging with your emotions around your corpo(realities).

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