Tikaani

Tikaani
The mascot of Prism*Song
Showing posts with label cross-disability. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cross-disability. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

On the context of 'Broken'

On the context of ‘Brokenness”

I never liked the word ‘broken’ to describe anyone. Not because ‘no one is broken’ but because it’s so flat and incomplete of a word. It has no form, or context. The word tells me nothing, because what exactly is broken and why are people so offended by it? In regards to disability, people think that ‘broken’ limits, dehumanizes and restructures a person around their disability ignoring the good and the positive skills they have. Yet when you do look at the good and positive you also need to balance it. It’s one the many reasons I feel like bringing this up and using some of the character I write with in my fiction. One that many already have known, for this essay, instead of Tikaani as my avatar pseudo-person its, Chiko my airbender original character which I think fits a bit better.

One of the most frustrating about disability narratives in fiction, is the idea that for the story’s arch to be completed the person with a disability must A) Accept his disability or B) learn to defeat it and be comparatively normal and like everyone else. Both are rather half-ass and shoddy endings, but most of these are written by able bodied people who never had a disability or that experience so they are just contextualizing as someone that woke up disabled than someone born with one. It’s one of the reasons I like Toph from Avatar. She is born blind so her narrative is not about her blindness but people’s perception and her ability to surpass that. In some way, Toph is broken, but her brokenness is not her disability but whole experience of being patronized and coddled by her parents, of her constantly having to match up to her sighted peers and putting walls among people because she is afraid of being seen as weak. With that all in context, she is a broken character. Brokenness is not about disability, it’s about social perception of worth, of value and reclaiming that word not as a flaw but as a paradigm. Brokenness should be part of the character’s narrative; it shouldn’t be a hurdle for the person to get over, because frankly, it never actually happens in real life. 

Chiko’s narrative is being used because I use Tikaani a lot his narrative isn’t about accepting and deal with a sudden disability but social stigma and moving against it. Chiko on the other hand has to deal with much in short time. For those that don’t follow the show or know the canon, this might be confusing and there is a special interest blurb about the show somewhere so you can do your own research. Yet, for those that are aware, the show brings up the fact that a race of people (Air Nomads) have been wiped out, Chiko is one of them and he and his family survives. Barely. His missing left arm is reminder of that massacre at his temple and it does haunt him. He does have phantom pains, he does deal with nightmares and flash backs and all that crap. His missing arm is a point of grief of him. The thing I want to bring up with Chiko, is that his narrative isn’t about his missing arm though it does feel like that, but honestly about his frustration of constantly being jarred around and dealing with a massive war. It’s about growing up on the battlefield and about being considered an outsider but not because of his limb but because of his social context. Chiko does seem himself as ‘broken’ but not in the idea that it’s because of his missing arm, but because he is considered unworthy to live, that he isn’t meant to be here and to him, surviving while others died, isn’t fair. He doesn’t get closure or sort of respite. His brokenness, his hurt, doesn’t go away if he gets a prosthesis or finds a stable home, the war will still be there and people will still die. Giving a disabled person an accommodation or a tool, doesn’t make their brokenness go away. Chiko’s value isn’t undermined by his brokenness, his love for his brothers and his willingness to never submit isn’t challenged by it. Over all, he isn’t less of a person for being ‘broken’. 

Which is I suppose the crux of the argument really. Tikaani isn’t less of a person, neither is Chiko neither am I. Brokenness doesn’t minimalize a person. Which is why next to ‘broken’ I hate the word ‘different’. People think that broken is a word that strips a person’s self and negates them but different doesn’t do that. I don’t believe that. Calling someone different, doesn’t negate that they are broken but accentuates it. It’s still isolating, negative and othering. Calling Tikaani ‘different’ doesn’t remove the fact he lives in a universe where his humanity is always in question, where is feared a shadow of a person and one that gambles with spirits. Saying that Chiko is different, doesn’t negate his missing arm. His nightmares or the fact his people are dying and being systematically killed (So much for Avatar being a ‘children’s’ show) and watching his whole world being set on literal fire. So I cringe when able bodied people saying that I am “differently abled’ thinking that my humanity isn’t questions or the alienation I feel evaporated by well-meaning sympathy. It doesn’t help. It doesn’t make me feel any less included. I don’t want to downplay either of my characters stories because I wouldn’t want mine negated for the sake of the comfort of abled people. I don’t believe calling me ‘broken’ strips me. No more than calling me different or special. I am either. I am just a wild satyr, an organic android, a bard with no song. 

I want people to see the brokenness and love it. Because it is a part of me it’s not separate thing. It is me.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

It's a matter of perspective







Josh and I have been rather hopeful about a new crime drama that has been on TNT lately. Perception stars Eric McCormack as Dr. Daniel Pierce. A brilliant neuro-scientist who helps the FBI solve complex crimes with his unique perspective and insight on people. Oh and he's also schizophrenic...just thought I should add that in.

I have many mixed feelings about this crime drama but it looks like a good foot in the right direction. However, just because you're going the right way doesn't mean you won't get lost. I suppose this essay is kind of a review on the show but not an accurate one since I have only seen the first episode. It's also dissection on the perspective of having a dual sword of a disability and a talent.

The show is something I want to bring up to parallel what is going in the James Holmes case. There is discussions that he had a psychotic break and is diagnosed with schizophrenia. Not sure if the latter is true however and I did mention my irritation on the lie that schizophrenics are always crazed killers and the denial of the fact they are more likely the victims. Yet the show takes on many of the similar tropes I have seen before. One of them is the "disability superpower" trope. I don't know if it frustrates me or rather fascinates me that his visual hallucinations are the manifestation his subconscious telling him how to solve the crime. Could it be possible for a schizophrenic to have dissociative consciousness that whatever it takes it in, it comes out garbled and skewed? Possibly, it's very likely that most hallucinations cause by different neurowiring is simply a scrambling of what is understood and perceived. But the whole idea that his hallucinations manifest to help him use his active consciousness to solve the crime doesn't sit well with me (example of this is during the episode one of the suspects gets nervous when he sees Dr Pierce he later visits the doctor saying that he is going crazy and killed someone and wants Dr. Pierce to help him. Turns out it's a hallucination that is a clue to what is going in the case). I can't buy it for some reason, hallucinations don't always manifest like that, some are just plain nonsensical (the one my friend J had are pretty damn surreal). Maybe that is why Dr. Pierce is brilliant, maybe his brilliance is because of his schizophrenia. Or is it the other way around, maybe is born brilliant and his brain schisms causing the schizophrenic symptoms?

Perhaps this is the thesis of the essay. Am I good storytelling because I am an autist who sees things in different shades? Or am I an autist that uses stories as an accommodation to communicate? It's a chicken/egg question indeed and one that needs exploration. I have high hopes for a show that works to move pass the tropes and cliches of schizo-typal people. Who has a neurodiverse hero that treasures his neurodiversity and truly recognizes it. It's good to see folks taking that bent on disability than making it "teaching lesson" for the able-bodied.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Sound of Rain (Fiction)

I wrote this back in April.

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Sound of Rain
C. Kramer

Hands against the foggy glass, Ian looks out watching the drips cascade down the bay window in his apartment. Slowly falling, the rain makes the sandy hair boy laugh as lightening dances in the surly clouds. He pulls away flapping his hands and rubs them on his face. A celebration of some sort, one that his lover never truly understood but empathizes in a way. Ian flapped again bouncing on his toes, swaying to the rolling roar of the thunder. A May storm always gives him such delight. A fixation that Mattie let him indulge him in once in a while; ridged schedules, planning things in advance, and a life of routine left their lives little room for things like spontaneity. Mattie couldn’t always go parties he was invited too, he left work early sometimes to deal with incidents. His life has been route and organized. All to keep Ian at peace in a sea of noise and faces, if one thing goes out of balance. There was chaos.

And people do ask: “Why do you even bother?”

The answer wasn’t simply “because I love him”, though that is part of the answer. For Matthias Shepard, life was as sea of noises and faces too. There was no reprieve for him; he went through life feeling though the ocean of emotions and thoughts constantly drowning in them. Every day, he was drowning and on one cold January evening, that is when he found an island. Ian Farthing was that island. A man who spent his life living with siblings, parents and at one point in a men’s home; never really having a place of belonging. He was a burden to some, a liability to others, but Mattie saw him differently. Telepathy with a secondary talent of empathic awareness, are heavy weights to wear. And since people never shield, he was always privy their intents, to their feelings, to their secrets. It was maddening for Mattie. Ian being autistic was relief from that. His mind functions so differently that picking up emotions was foggy and hard to pin point and telepathy was equally hard. His thoughts were various word-pictures, sounds, smells. They were in differently complex patterns that are hard to cipher though. It was perfect peace. He wasn’t open and naked like the others. He wasn’t a pulsing mass of ethos. Finally Mattie found someone that he could truly get to know, talk to, and discover.

Ian found peace with Mattie. Shoved aside by family members who saw him as a non-person; Ian found himself with little control over his life. It wasn’t until his sister Jane saw his landscapes, and then people started to care. Not about him, of course not. Just of what he could produce. Rich and vibrant fields, busy streets and stormy evenings; the latter is his favorite. Watercolor was his medium of choice and spent many of his days holed up in his room painting. Only eating when made to and only leaving the room when he had to piss. Ian spoke to his sister in the same short clipped voice explaining in great detail what he trying to say in his paintings. He went on about techniques and new methods, watercolor vs. gouache and things that Jane couldn’t give a damn about. But he made money. And greed was strong in her. So against his own needs, she made him do tours, sell in pricy galleries and showcases, dragging him around like a dancing poodle. It was that January when Ian was showing his watercolor paintings in gallery opening, the one that Mattie was at.

Swaying side to side, Mattie found a shaggy hair main with wide rectangular glasses staring at a painting of a sunset from a roof top. Mattie was drawn to him, while trying to escape the environmental noise and the psychic noise too. It was quiet where Ian was. Surprised, Mattie stood next to him. Pushing back his long black hair he took a sip of the chardonnay and started a conversation.
                “Nice contrast, I like how the red bleeds like that against the start black.”
                “Oh.  Thank you. Took me months to get that,” responded the swaying man.
                “You’re the artist? You’re Ian Farthing?” Mattie raised an eyebrow and turned to Ian with a fascinated look he is so….silent. I can’t pick out any outward resonance from him. It’s like he turned off or damped his emotions. I can’t pick them up. Mattie offered his hand to Ian, a smile forming on his tanned face.
                “Matthias Shepard, it is an honor to meet the talent behind these paintings.” Ian carefully shook his hand. Mattie’s hand swallowed the clammy artist’s, and he had to actually concentrate for once to pick up a resonance. He hates it here, he doesn’t want to be here I get those emotions, but his thoughts there are, images, some are words…but I can’t translate them right away. This…this is incredible. He’s a Dampener. Those are hard to find. Shaking his hand for a moment, Mattie turned back to the painting.
                “Does it mean anything?” he asked, Ian’s response was simple:
                “It was just a practice piece using some new tubes, but I guess people can stick whatever meaning they want to it.”
                “It looks…somber almost. Like there is a kind of dinginess to it, but seriously; what does it mean to you?
                “It’s isolation. Feeling of being cut out from society. The roof has nothing on it, it’s bare and void and sun as its setting casting a glow to it; almost if it’s judging it.”
                “Do people judge you Ian?”
                Ian looked at Mattie with a hurt look, “Of course. I am autistic. Of course they judge.” Mattie was going to probe deeper when a stern blonde woman walked up to them. She ushered Ian way saying that some folks wanted to buy a piece from him. Mattie looked at the title of the painting that they were discussing. It was entitled: Scathing Glare.


The months that followed ebbed and flowed. Mattie spent evenings visiting Ian, at his studio. Bringing meals to him when he forgot eat. Watching him paint and the conversations dripped down like steady rain. Mattie explained to him that he was only child, and grew up rather sheltered. It was only when he hit middle school things began to change. His psychic powers manifested and nothing was ever the same after that. Ian seemed interested about it. He has met some “psychics” in his life. Most of them were just empaths that were good at cold reading. True telepaths were hard to come by and meeting one for real, was quite an opportunity. Ian started to feel a strong connection to Mattie after spending several evenings, and afternoons with him. He started to take more breaks from paintings and started visiting him at his clinic where he practiced. He made an effort more to try new things and slowly Mattie watched him come out of his shell. He was vibrant and exuberant about everything. Paintings of Ian had richness that Mattie noticed more. Real happiness, and as the months that followed from carefully nurturing the relationship that they have sowed together, the happiness flourished.

Getting Ian off of Jane’s hands however was not simple as Mattie thought. Before Ian moved in, Jane struggled to keep Ian for herself afraid her little hen will not lay any golden eggs for her. Yet Ian convinced her that he can give her some of his money he made from commissions and galleries to her once a month. Deal placated her, and without that complication, Mattie and Ian can begin their lives together.

It wasn’t always perfect. Mattie knew what was he was getting into with having a relationship with an autistic. The beds have to be always made or Ian will rant and be surly for hours. If they were late for a gallery show or a meeting or anything, Ian will panic. Mattie was patient and rational but even his own patience was tried when they got into spats. Mostly out of miscommunication than malice. Explaining things over and over was exhausting. Still despite the rough spots in their relationship. Things sometimes seamlessly flow together. Ian was tirelessly observant, Mattie often comes home late and dinner would be prepared for him. Small paintings of flowers and fresh fruit will be in his briefcase and the simple peace of them just together in the apartment was fact enough on how much it was worth it. Living with Ian took effort but all good things take effort.

In Ian’s case, Mattie was also a challenge. Like autistic symptoms, psychic powers also have its set of inferences. Ian can tolerate crowds as he was use to them in the gallery parties. Mattie can only tolerate them for an hour or so, before he started to break down and hide to escape the constant sea of resonance. Movie theaters were out of the question. Mattie had a hard time eating out too. Because even the food has resonance and nothing killed the mood more than trying to eat a steak with the sound of mooing and the crackle of static from a stun gun(One of the reasons Mattie often went vegetarian). So it goes without saying that eating out was once in a while and only if Mattie wards from various resonances and impressions. When Ian had enough of people and the mask of “normalcy” falls off; he shuts down, rocking back and forth and hands over his eyes. He will scream and try to run away. When Mattie gets over loaded, he gets violent. He made damn sure never to show that side to Ian. Until one afternoon…

It was another gallery show outside of town at someone’s property. It was warm and bright and Ian was more involved with the guests than use to be. Shaking hands and showing them some of his new pieces. Mattie was oddly more worn that day. Quiet as he followed his lover behind him watching with proud but tired expression on his face; happy to see him so social for once. He took a beer from the cooler and walked outside to get a break from the party and drank on lawn he found himself wandering to an area outside of the man celebration when felt a wave of psychic energy. He furrowed his brow as he touched a hammer that lay in the grass next to a tree stump. A sick feeling welled up in Mattie as he rolled his eyes back seeing an image two men beating the shit out of another man. Words and slurs were being thrown around muddled with the hazy image. Mattie choked back his nausea as the boy who was probably gay was beaten by two men, high school age. Dropping the hammer Mattie staggered back, beer left in grass by the weapon. He had no idea if the boy lived, or not. He didn’t stick around to find out. His own mask dropped off as he stormed to the car not noticing that Ian was behind him. His grey eyes filled with concern.
                “Mattie? What is wrong, you lo-“Mattie whirled around to strike whomever was behind him, but Ian caught his fist. Grey eyes now filled with deeper concern. “What the fuck happened? What did you see or pick up?”
                “Back off Ian, I just need space.”
                “No you’re going to calm down first. You’re seething, what happened?” Ian was insistent and didn’t let go of Mattie. Both of them looked back for a second before getting into the Jetta.
                “I picked up something in the back of the place, some kid got beat to shit.” Mattie admitted rubbing his face.  “We need to go now. We can’t be here.”
                “Do you want to tell the police or something?” Ian tried to help.               
                “No I just want to fucking go! I am tired to death of being here.” Snapped Mattie
                “Mattie we can-“ Mattie fell into the resonance loosing himself to the impressions he found. Everything feel away from him nothing was stable or real anymore as he found himself looking into the eyes of the boy that was beaten, Ian didn’t even finished his sentence when Mattie let out a deluge of words anger flavored them like hot sauce. Ian couldn’t process them fast enough but without thinking, he grabbed Mattie’s shoulders and forced him to look at him.
                “Stop! Breathe. Now. Push back the onslaught. I am gonna talk to the host, I am gonna get to the bottom of this. We will go home, get out of the ocean Mattie you will drown.” Ian solid words, and own dampening ability stopped the resonance from continuing. Mattie took a breath and managed to put himself back together.
                “Right you do that Ian. I am going to chill out here for a while ok?” Mattie said wearily as Ian slowly got out of the car and walked back to the house. Mattie rubbed his face as tried to hold on his mind. He needed Ian more than Ian realized.


Bringing himself out of that memory he watched Ian rocked to the sound of rain and heavy thunder. Mattie got up from his seat in the living room and put down his laptop. Coffee in one hand and idea in his head he got Ian’s attention.
                “Hey, Ian c’mere.” He said as he put his coffee down. Ian laughed and joined him in his favorite chair looking outside the window, still engaged to the conversation.
                “Something on your mind?”
                “Yeah Ian” there was a pause, “what do you think about the phrase ‘high functioning’?”
                “It makes no sense honestly, but in what context?”
                “What about in the autistic sense?” asked Ian sipping his coffee letting the mellow flavor relax him as Ian took his time thinking.
                “I still think it makes no sense. I am only considered high functioning because I can talk, but most folks look at us and they don’t see a gay couple. Most people think you’re my brother and get shocked when I kiss you in public. Rest of the word sees me as, semi-functioning or something. They notice my disability and see it as a flaw. You’re not even high functioning at all and they call your disability a god-damn gift.” Ian rambled.
                “You don’t think I am ‘high functioning’?” laughed Mattie.
                “Generally, you can pass. But I know you struggle daily to keep from falling into whatever resonances or psychic entropy you find. You get sick and you tire easily. I take care of you more than you take care of me Mattie. I mean. I don’t want to seem like I am complaining. This is just my-“
                “Observation, I know,” finished Mattie, “I know you’re not trying to be hurtful. So many people see the relationship as one sided. Some even think I am taking advantage of you, but you’re right Ian. It’s the other way around. Sometimes you get lost in environment yourself. Sound drowns you but you always manage to bring yourself out of it. If I start to drown, I can’t seem to pull myself out.” Mattie drank his coffee quiet now.
                “The sounds of rain Mattie, people hear the rain and are calmed by it. But when I hear it I am driven. I want to rock, flap, dance, spin in circles. We all respond to the world differently. I don’t think that means you’re a high functioning psychic or low functioning one. It means you respond to the sound of rain differently. I can’t tell you how to dance to it. But one day, you will find your rhythm to it.”

-End

Friday, April 22, 2011

Chiko Anatomy notes (NSFW)

This post is not intended for children under the age of 18 contains mentions of nudity.




I haven't drawn Chiko in a awfully long time. So after some thought I decided to sketch him and discuss a bit some some base note on his body structure.



Chiko is rather short. Around five feet and four inches he's is actually average compared to his ethnic group, but to us, he's kinda puny. His build is bordering stocky (all those dumpling Chi-bird), he's fit and has some definition especially around his legs. He still suffers from some balance issues but compensates with excellent reaction time and good ol' airbender speed.

He is pretty cute as far as attractiveness goes. He has a short but round face, round noise and thin lips. Hair is actually slightly wavy but it's cut short to prevent it frizzing. Despite the various scars on his body (most are from the massacre like his missing arm) he's not that bad looking. However Chiko is very self-conscious (you can't blame him) and covers his left side a lot to prevent people from noticing his missing arm. He can hold his own in combat and is quite good in air-bending. His main flaw is his left side, however he has incredibly fierce kicks that can shatter stone and can whip up great gales. He can still fight with one hand which is something he likes to brag about occasionally.

He's a work in progress, but I hope to make him more distinct.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

The Ableism of Sex

Richard showed this too me last night and I am quiet flabbergasted on why this even on trial

The body of the link



Judge bans man with low IQ from having sex


By Martin Beckford, The Daily Telegraph February 4, 2011



A man with a low IQ has been banned from having sexual intercourse by a High Court judge who admitted the case raised questions about "civil liberties and personal autonomy".

The 41 year-old had been in a relationship with a man with whom he lived and told officials "it would make me feel happy" for it to continue.

But his local council, which provides his accommodation, decided his "vigorous sex drive" was inappropriate and that with an IQ of 48 and a "moderate" learning disability, he did not understand what he was doing. It started legal proceedings to restrict the relationship.

A psychiatrist involved in the case tried to prevent the man being given sex education, on the grounds that it would leave him "confused".

Mr Justice Mostyn said the case was "legally, intellectually and morally" complex as sex is "one of the most basic human functions" and the court must "tread especially carefully" when the state tries to curtail it.

But he agreed that the man, known only as Alan, should not be allowed to have intercourse with anyone on the grounds that he did not have the mental capacity to understand the health risks associated with his actions.

Under the judge's order, the man is now subject to "close supervision" by the local authority to ensure he does not break the highly unusual order. The judge concluded: "Alan does not have the capacity to consent to and engage in sexual relations.

"In such circumstances it is agreed that the present regime for Alan's supervision and for the prevention of future sexual activity is in his best interests."

It is the latest controversial case to come before Britain's Court of Protection. Under the Mental Capacity Act 2005, its judges have the power to make life-or-death decisions for people deemed to lack the intelligence to make them for themselves - such as ordering that they undergo surgery, have forced abortions, have life-support switched off or be forced to use contraception.

In the latest case, the man known as Alan was described as being physically able but "seriously challenged in all aspects of his mental functionality". He lived in a home provided by the council, where he developed a sexual relationship with a man called Kieron by the court. Alan was also accused of making lewd gestures at children in a dentists' surgery and on a bus, although no police action was taken.

The town hall began court proceedings in 2009 to restrict contact with Kieron on the grounds that he lacked mental capacity, and an interim order was made.

"Since then Alan has been subjected to close supervision to prevent any further sexual activity on his part," said the judge.



********

This entire thing rubs me the wrong way. Lets bring up a few things. First off, the trial reads simply "Ew! Gay retards are having sex ew!" It's complete aversion to the idea that "Alan" is interested with having a sexual relationship with his another person (let alone a man) NEWS FLASH!!People with intellectual abilities, developmental delays, mental illnesses and brain injuries are not non sexual people! I know this is a shock to all you able body folks here but guess what, sex isn't just for able people. And the idea that Alan wants to have a sexual relationship with a peer isn't something deviant.

Now I know people are wondering "but what if he lover is not in the same developmental range as Alan wouldn't he be taking advantage of him?" Richard and I inferred that they met in an assisted living situation and they are both adults with intellectual disabilities. I have yet to see any information that is contrary. Until that information is presented.

I am gonna say this is rather fucked.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Yesterday's news (poem)

I see animals living captivity
They call it a zoo
but when see man in captivity
and I call it an Institution
where the concept of humanity
is all but a figment of a former reality
like puppies that got to big
and tossed aside like yesterday's news
human beings locked away in
discontentment and division
where their value is place at negative 10
and where their souls tear and rend
but is there an end?
There is no end

Ladies and gentlemen
I'll give you straight facts
no lies or bias here
stories need to be told
and spoken here
injustice is a foot my friends
and we must not be blind in ignorance
I have heard the tales of children being shocked
with burns on their legs and arms
tied down in leather straps
lock in a night dark room
halls scented of piss and vomit
little girls being raped while the nurse is away
parents lied saying it's ok
when the state is involved everything goes to hell
rights are stripped away from the most needy
and left to die I their own feces

humans with cognitive delays are not the enemy
not some obscene sort of tragedy
pretend you can't talk, and world is strange thing
would you want to say something? To have a choice to be protected?
Is easier to pretend that the retard locked in sterile halls is not human
would be better for you to turn you head away
default your responsibility
I wish I could tie you down watch every fucking second
of a Down Syndrome boy screaming as he left alone
in a dark and empty room
I want you to suffer like they suffer
I want to you to bleed like they bleed
I want you see what I see
I am not just hero without a cause
I have seen the mouth of ethical hell
state funded institutions are not homes
just another word for a prison
but at least prisoners have rights
what right does 'bifida girl have
besides being left alone in her wheelchair
the autistic boy is always tied down he screams for his mom
but mommy ain't here
I will champion for them my friend
after all it could be your kid
locked up in that zoo

thrown away like yesterday's news

Yesterday's News

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Cross disability thoughts: Seeking out connections



Multiple Perspectives was Wednesday on the twenty-eighth. Our ASAN chapter was invited to talk about self-advocacy, employment and education. It was interesting to talk to the ADA about viewpoint as self-advocating autists (and yes I nearly went into overload). Yet something reached me as sat and had lunch with several people from different disability groups. Something that I've talked about but never really discussed, especially for Blogging against Disabilism day.

What about cross-disability politics and even cross-disability ableism? We're naive to think that every disabled person is going to empathize with someone different disability. That a person with a mobility impairment is going to understand the stress of someone who is deaf and someone with borderline personality disorder is going to understand someone with dwarfism. It's not possible. It's human to find disconnect with different sub-groups with in a minority. I've seen the ableism even with in HFA/LFA dichotomy. I've talked about before. I've seen ableism from autists against those with psychoses. Especially against those that for anti-psychiatry. They too feed into the stigma and stereotypes. In the same breath I've seen people with mild psychoses judge those with severe intellectual impaired people. I've seen people with visible physical disabilities make harsh statements against those with mental impairments of all kinds.

I could go on and on and on, yet despite talking in an oroboric cycle I feel that I won't make my point clear. My point in a succinct fashion is that normal typical people are not the only people that are ableist. Ableism permeates within the disabled community much like ink within a pool of water. It's not a just a typical/normal/abled person issue it's a human issue. I know, I know I am preaching to the choir, but I feel I need to call this out.

The human aspect of not finding a connection and repelling against those with a different disability. Is something we shouldn't fixate on. Human nature is human nature. What we should do is find connections that are their. Someone with a wheelchair or a mobility impairment; should understand the frustration that a little person feels when they can't reach or obtain something without help. A deaf adult could empathize with a nonverbal autist struggling to communicate with his family. The connections are their, we just have to seek them out.

I've seen the connections in action. I've seen a man with hydrocephalus discuss neuro-diversity. Something I thought was an autist only phenomenon. I've seen TASH and other groups rise up against AutSpks. My best friend with borderline supports my autism rights activism. My schizophrenic best friend, fist bumps me when I tell him about the new laws to help mentally impaired kids. These connections are vital, and something we should strive to maintain. We should advocate for each other and find the necessary common ground to fight against ableism in typical society. Only if we stand together could we make major difference. Yet we need to address the ableism within and solve that as well. We need to stop the ideaism that one disability is better than another and that certain disability groups shouldn't exist.

Disability right are human rights. And there is ableism within disability groups.