CLH Words

I sold at a Renaissance Faire recently. I always love selling at events. I get to spread joy and meet people. This was no exception. It was a great event and I met a lot of people. But, as a (somewhat) visibly disabled person living in an ableist world, often people will react to my disability. Now, usually these reactions are…fine. I rarely experience out right hostile ableism (my whiteness and low support needs  go a long way in shielding me from that), but people are weird about disabilities. Our society is not exactly good when it comes to opinions on disability, to put it mildly. Ableism and eugenics are dominant forces. Most people are not equipped to discuss disability yet often feel the need to. The people at this faire were no exception.

               For the most part, interactions fall into three categories (not including overt ableism):  intrigue, solidarity, and acceptance. Now of course these three categories are not as clear and cut as I lay them out, often over lapping, but based on my decade or so living as a visibly disabled person, most interactions fall into at least one. By interactions, I mean me going about my life in public and a member of the public brings my disability to the front, either in conversation or by their actions. This does not happen ever time I am out and about, but happens often enough that these patterns are clear to me.

 Intrigue is the one I experience the most. People are curious. They see me, a disabled person, out and about. This is not something they see every day. While they are not hostile to my existence, society has not equipped them with the tools needed to understand my disability. Often times I am unaware of these people; I miss there curious looks or the questions asked, either internally to themselves or out loud to their companions. But often people will ask me questions or make a comment about my disability. At the faire, a man stopped me on my way to the bathrooms, asking about how I was holding my cane. He had seen blind people before, talked to some of them and knew a little bit about mobility aids like canes. He was talking from a place of genuine curiosity and a desire to understand, even if many of his biases remained implicit. I usually chuckle to myself after these conversations. I enjoy being able to help educate others but find their lack of knowledge and struggle to remain polite amusing. Intrigue is someone who (was taught to) views disabled people as a class that is other than themself and not part of public seeing me, a disabled person, in public and having that view shattered. It arises from the personalization of a previously mostly depersonalized group. And it is great! It is a step towards unpacking ableism.

  However, solidarity is by far my favorite. It is the recognition of a fellow disabled person. That knowledge that we are not alone. That we can also be out and about. A woman came up and talked about her vision lose and eye issues to me, unprompted. This woman, who otherwise would have not stood out to me, became someone that I had a moment of connection with. A recognition of a fellow disabled person out and about. The person selling in the tent next to ours who we befriended also had ADHD. We chatted a bit about that and felt connected through that. There are many disabled people in the world. Yet, it is often hard to see that when the world is built to keep us out. So whenever I meet a fellow disabled person, I feel a sense of connection, a spark of joy to know that they too are living their lives.

 Acceptance is the one that I struggle with the most. There really isn’t anything beyond it: people are simply accepting of my disability. Our tent neighbor learned that I was blind when my girlfriend mentioned it off hand and did not bring it up again. She did not question it or ask any follow up. It was a statement to her just like any other. The man who stopped me on the way to the bathroom was accepting as well as intrigued. He had questions for me, but also the knowledge and understanding to see me as a person. He compared me holding my cane to a conductor before a band. His intrigue was less shock and more personal, a form of acceptance I hardly see: the joy of seeing someone different than himself living as he does. I do not always know how to handle acceptance, as I feel like I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the surprise ableism to come out and hurt me. Yet, most of the time this does not happen. The non-issue of me being disabled is usually genuine. People are more okay with disabled folks than society as a whole says they should be.

This surprise of acceptance is what I kept thinking about during the faire and in the days since. We are living through a return of eugenics. Well, eugenics never really went anywhere, but it is ramping up. Trump and RFK Jr keep making headlines by saying truly evil things about disabled people. The current administration has painted a target on the backs of all disabled people (among many, many other groups). Yet, at this faire, two and a half days out interacting with people, I did not experience this. I did not see a rise in hate or ableism. I simply saw people being people. Yes the world has hate in it. But it is also full of people who are curious and ultimately wanting to accept those who are different. I do not think everything will be oaky because of this, but I do find hope in the fact that society is not as scary as bigots want it to be. Acceptance is more common than hate. And I want to keep working on making it even more common.