An Adventure in Disability studies!
This Week’s Update
This week, I edited another chapter of my work in progress “June and Maya’s Almanac.” I wrote four poems, a little on the low side but it ebbs and flows! I Spent all of Tuesday making scripts for video essays in VERSE that i’m planning to record and release on my youtube channel over the coming weeks. This week I developed some new Classroom materials for my curriculum for neurodivergent creatives! I’m working on a very detailed curriculum that is designed to conform to the neurodivergent brain instead of simply accommodating it. There is a very distinct difference between something that is made for someone and something that simply makes enough room for them without truly fitting the way it should. Think, a top you got on Shein that’s technically your size but doesn’t quite fit the shape of your body, vs a custom made gown or suit that was made with your exact curves and measurements in mind, by an expert tailor who you actually know; instead of a poorly treated factory worker somewhere in the world. It’s a drastic difference, and there are currently no programs designed this way.
The thing about it is, most programs for neurodivergent people are, A, based on the biomedical model of disability, and B, Designed by neurotypical people with the intention of forcing neurodivergent people to “act normal” despite there being nothing wrong with being or acting neurodivergent. For example, ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis) Is often described by autistic people who undergo it as traumatic. My program is based on the Social Model Of Disability 🖐🏽 🌈🖐🏽(imagine those emojis as the “imaaagination” spongebob meme) The social model of disability posits that the thing that is disabling to people with impairments of any kind, is not their physical or mental differences, but the lack of accommodation and the presence of societal barriers that make someone disabled. For example, someone in a wheelchair full time can not walk. That is an impairment of their ability to walk, BUT, if every building is wheelchair accessible, if every playground and museum and theatre and office, is wheelchair accessible, is built with features that make being in a wheelchair not actively difficult. The person in the wheelchair is not disabled at all. They can do everything everyone else can do if the world is built to be functional for people like them. It also makes the world better and easier for people with strollers, heavy luggage, construction workers, everyone really.
That’s why accommodations are so vital. Because the changes that make life accessible for people in wheelchairs make it more accessible for EVERYONE! So the next time you interact with something that makes you say, “Why is this so hard for no reason?” Remember that the thing that makes people disabled is not their difference; it is a world that refuses to make space for them.
HIGHLIGHT
One highlight of my week was discovering an amazing new YouTuber called MINIMINUTEMAN, who posts really great archaeology-themed content. And of course TOR’S CABINET OF CURIOSITIES posted a new video! Always one of my favorites.
Featured Poem
On behalf of the pigeons that were once loyal companions and now fill cities of people could have loved them, but currently view them as pests.
The sky is blackened by a flock of birds that are known for being
A little dumb
Those that peck at dropped pretzels in the subway
Fighting with rats over pepperoni
And territory
Sometimes I look at these hefty, stupid birds
And I wonder who would have loved them
In a parallel reality
Pigeons were once beloved house pets
The only way to send rapid messages
Across the great expanses of uninhabited and unwieldy wilderness
To warn of war or famine
The feathered threads that tied together the new world
And then came the telegram
The telephone
The internet
And then, suddenly, the pinnacle of communication
Was a pest
Was a nuisance in the halls of high-rises
Always lurking where the humans were
Because they were domesticated
Bred for a life alongside man
Abandoned for broadband
Wilting in hoards
Hankering for the heat of
Homes and human love
Those beady black eyes that wonder
Why they follow after the people
Who shoo and scare
Do they contemplate a fate unfair
Do they know that once, the people cared?
Do they curse at power lines
And polluted air?
I hope the pigeons find their place one day
May they return to forest made of wood
And not concrete
May they fly south for the winter and not
Seek a home that closed its doors on them
May they find a solace from the cold
May their wings catch wind
That is free from the smog
Of a world that in their obsolescence
Would destroy them
Featured Essay
IN DEFENCE OF GETTING OLD
These days, everybody is afraid of getting old. We do skincare treatments and creams and face rollers and facials and everything in between just to stop wrinkles from appearing. It seems, in this era, we have misplaced the art of aging gracefully. The art of taking the wrinkles as they come and wearing them with pride. Now, it is like if you do not look ten years younger than your actual age, you are doing something actively wrong.
I think this is misguided. I believe there is an inherent pleasure in aging. I believe it is an honor and a privilege that not everyone gets. I believe there is beauty in it, if you bother to look.
Something that aging provides you with is the gift of self-acceptance. When you get older, you come as you are, and if somebody does not like it, that is on them. It is the art of not giving a fuck. With age comes mastery of this art.
I just got my wisdom teeth, and though I do not feel wiser, I do feel like I am getting there. Age comes with an accumulation of wisdom and emotional intelligence a high schooler could only dream of having. I do not even have it, but I see it in my parents and my grandparents, how they have aged and grown into vessels of knowledge on top of their usual brilliance. I see the way they become thankful for every day, how they find joy in the most simple of things, how they have become free from the social pressures that burden the youth. In old age, I have seen how people embrace their individuality.
Another thing that old age provides is the opportunity to teach. You might find someone young and bright, see yourself in them, and become a mentor. I am incredibly thankful for the mentors that I have had throughout my youth. My mentors are almost like parents to me. They have been there for me when nobody else understood. They have stood by me when I did not understand myself.
You might find yourself, in old age, simply watching TV or tending the garden. And there is beauty in this. Retirement provides a freedom most people have not had since age four, where you are not responsible to a job or a school, only to yourself. I see my grandpa find his peace. He loves every day, and it is beautiful.
Your face may fill with wrinkles and lines, and that is glorious. Each line is a smile, each wrinkle is a memory. Old age gives you permission to embrace a sort of hedonism, where you live each moment for the tastes and the sounds and the sensations, where you live each moment like it is the last one. You get to build a legacy, and you discover a timeless sense of beauty that only comes after the glass skin fades. A unique beauty, that I see in the face of my grandmother, that I see more of in my mother with each passing day.
I hope that one day you too can stare the future in its face and smile.
What’s Coming Next
In two weeks, I’ll be hosting two workshops at the Brentwood library! One for teens and one for adults.
You can also expect some exciting YouTube videos!
Closing Note
Thank you for reading and signing up for my newsletter. I could not have imagined so many of you would actually subscribe. I even got some paid subscribers! (shout out to my aunts and uncles and momma J)
If you enjoyed this, feel free to leave a comment or message me. You all mean so much to me, and I’m really glad I did the impulsive thing and just jumped right in to creating with abandon. That is my job after all.
May the spirit of Octavia Butler be with you,
Lomeister, out.
~Alora Young
