Learning in Relation: “Dissing” the Label Disability

The article “Becoming dishuman: thinking about the human through dis/ability” criticizes the term disability and the way it isolates people who do not fit the category of “able”. It explores the way the term dis is used in other words in the English language. Whether it is in the context of slang as a “dis” or insult, or in the form of troubling something like disagree troubles an agree (Goodley, para. 16). To engage in this troubling of common language such as “disabled” would mean for me to take the bold step of no longer using words as if they are neutral. It would mean that I would have to use terms as if the are not powerless to people’s judgements, views or identities. Engaging in disrupting norms goes against a society’s set ways and this disruption would additionally mean to cause friction with common beliefs and ideas. Troubling norms mean thinking words like disabled do not begin to have attached connotations and insinuations to them once criticized, instead they are continually present and criticism just brings them to the forefront. “Dis” is attached to numerous word to convey the message “is not”, (i.e. distasteful, dissociation). Finding faults in this norm as well as others makes me responsible for what I am saying and responsible for what effect it may have on others when they are defined by these norms.
   
The understanding of this term may change once viewed from this perspective because it shows the divisions made when grouping people as the able and the disabled. This understanding also displays that terms are capable of things as powerful as dehumanizing people. In terms of non living things disabled means taking the function out of an object, anyone not conditioned to the normalization of this word would assume we are referring the same thing towards a human. This means the word disabled is capable of taking away something as important in defining someone as their ability, or overall function. It is easy to see how problematic it is to group people by what they cannot do, yet our society uses this as a politically correct term. This perspective of the term disable is interesting in the way our conditions tell us disabled is an appropriate word but our general knowledge should identify that a different characteristic should be used to define a group of individuals. An understanding of what disabled could insinuate about people gives an insight into the oppression that someone with a physical or learning disability face with labels they are given alone.

    “Stolen Bodies, Reclaimed Bodies” (Clare) is an article with a powerful reflection on the interconnection of identities which trouble normality. In one section of the article Clare writes, “Homophobia is all about defining queer bodies as wrong, perverse, immoral. Transphobia, about defining trans bodies as unnatural, monstrous, or the product of delusion” (Clare, 2001). These enforced identities and specification about people are worn on their bodies and carried in their day-to-day lives. Disability, gender identification, race these are a few of the things people can have written on their bodies; all which are vulnerable to the intolerance and indifference to dissimilarity . In the article Clare proclaims, “There are so many ways oppression and social injustice can mark a body, steal a body, feed lies and poison to a body” (Clare, 2001). All are different minorities but every individual exposed to the same indignity and self-hatred caused by society’s subtle and not so subtle messages.

The Self in Relation: Disrupting Normative Narratives

In my earlier blog post on normal narratives I mentioned the normal narrative of being unmindful of race therefore not participating in racism and the normal narrative of comparing prejudice towards a majority group to racism. A Huffington Post article that takes a different stance on racism and disrupts these normal narratives is “Why I’m a Racist” by Jeff Cook. In the article Cook (2016) states “I was raised to treat everyone equally, regardless of race, or any other demographic for that matter…even with the upbringing and exposure I was blessed with, I’m probably still a racist…I am uncomfortable with, ignorant of and distant from racial inequalities that exist in my country” (para. 2). This quote is interesting because he writes a normal narrative and then acknowledges the invisible racism in which the narrative silences. The discomfort, obliviousness, and disconnection Cook mentions is a form of oppressiveness that is very easy ignore or disregard this type of oppression as an overreaction. Disregarding this silent form of racism is also mentioned in Peggy McIntosh’s article “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack”. Inside this article McIntosh (1988) proclaims goes one step further and proclaims “I was taught to see racism only in individual acts of meanness, not in invisible systems conferring dominance on my group”.

McIntosh goes one step further to acknowledge these oppressive everyday experiences by giving specific examples of these silent oppression. One specific example McIntosh (1988) accounts is, “I can be late to a meeting without having the lateness reflect on my race”. Examples of oppression correlated privilege like the one given by McIntosh is why a normal narrative that compares experiences of prejudice toward majority group and racism is problematic and why it does not represent racism. Cook (2016) writes in his article “I lived a life marked by opportunity and forgiveness; and while I may not have always had “much,” I have always had the benefit of the doubt” (para. 1).  It is pretty safe to say everyone has experienced one form of oppression or another throughout their lifetime but it is not relative. It would be incredibly difficult for a white person to understand the obstacles and struggles that people of other races face, such as not being given the benefit of the doubt and an isolated example prejudice will not explain that. In his article Cook (2016) also states “while I am very uncomfortable when forced to confront a terrible reality that I can generally avoid, my friends and neighbors of color are forced to confront it every day” (para. 7).

While reading “Why I am a Racist” I felt troubled when I started to really see how unconnected I was with other races and how much easier it was to carry on these normal narratives rather than disrupt them. It is very easy to overlook inequalities and racial hierarchy when an individual is in a position where you are essentially on top.  My preconceived notions of people were and are based on appearance and articles such as these do not allow me to comfortably ignore it. It is a hard thing to say about myself because appearance is not in any way a good indication of what the person in front of me is like but even with knowing that I still subconsciously and consciously use it as indicator. In his article Cook (2016) writes, “I have to build genuine relationships with people of color and stop the whole ridiculous “I don’t see color” BS” (para. 19). It is so easy to play dumb and dehumanize the mistreatment of others when you do not experience it firsthand. The very last thing Cook (2016) writes in his article is “I have a certain degree of power and privilege because of my skin color…The responsibility for having it isn’t on me; but the responsibility for what I do with it is” (para. 20). There is no reason to feel bad about possessing privilege, it came a system established long before anyone alive today existed but it is important to know what that can privilege can do to others and how it is used everyday.

Why I’m a Racist

Jeff Cook

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/why-im-a-racist_us_57893b9ee4b0e7c873500382

White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack

Peggy McIntosh

https://webcache.googleusercontent.com/search?q=cache:undXvBgwru8J:https://www.deanza.edu/faculty/lewisjulie/White%2520Priviledge%2520Unpacking%2520the%2520Invisible%2520Knapsack.pdf+&cd=3&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=ca

The Self in Relation: Normal Narratives

Sydney Trytten

https://sydneytrytten.wordpress.com/2016/11/10/the-self-in-relation-normal-narratives/

 

“Fake it ‘Til you Make it” How I Learned to Act like a Lady

My skin felt itchy from the sequin dress my mom forced me into for the Christmas party. If given the choice, my long blonde hair would have be in tangles, my dress would have turned into something with the same comfort level of pyjamas, and I would have been barefoot with my shoes scattered somewhere on the floor. My legs never stayed crossed, my behaviour was not structured and I was definitely seen and heard. It did not seem fair in my young mind that I was to act ten times more mature than the boys my age at that party when I wasn’t, I was just as silly and frantic. That party I attended felt different from the feeling I had at home, the tension I felt made me feel like I was out-of-place and uncomfortable. I didn’t know why my mother had suddenly changed her tolerance of my behaviour, she loved how silly I was, and she celebrated when my initial feeling of shyness wore off and I was loud and goofy so why was she scolding me? The reason why she had changed was because of my great-grandmother. Every time I acted unladylike my mother’s eyes went straight to wherever my great-grandmother was and it took a lot of life experience for me to realize the significance of that. My mom had become more strict when great grandma was around because that is what great grandma had done to her at a greater degree when she was a child, and that is what great grandma experienced to an even more severe degree than that as a child.

And these are two very wonderful people, in fact both my mother and her grandmother were just trying to make life easier by teaching these socially accepted behaviours early, because they knew it would have been much kinder and tolerant when taught by them. I struggled in fighting proper female rules for a long time but eventually I always seemed/seem to subconsciously give in without even realizing that I do it. I did not wear makeup going into high school until enough passive aggressive comments had been made about it that I felt like I needed it, and I did not like “boy bands” until I realized that it was the easiest and possibly only way I could make friends with the other girls in my grade 6 class. And in a very recent example, I had never worn high heels up until I had the epiphany that the female teachers that wore high heels in my old high school had seemed to be more respected by the students and silenced the classroom when they were heard from the hallway.

Mythbusters Assignment

https://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=youtu.be&v=nwtx0yYcTsg

It was a wonderful experience to do this video with this awesome group of people. A big thank you to all the wonderful people who spoke with us. I hope this video helps give a better understanding of this misconception we hear all too often, enjoy! 🙂

When I Saw the World in Colour and Black and White

I went to a very diverse school, and at my young age it had never occurred to me that my classmates or best friend were any different than I was. I learned basic colours and could physically see that my best friend had a different skin tone but I never gave it a second thought, as it did not indicate anything to me. The day I remember being significant in the way it shifted my viewpoint is the day my best friend (that we will call Kacey) asked me to go down the street to her house for lunch. The lunch started with Kacey’s mom being upset at Kacey for “bringing her white friend over without telling her”. I remember thinking it was weird she added white because most people I knew just said Sydney or friend, however, I knew my mom got mad at me when I brought people over without telling her. It was when Kacey’s family began to tease me about my pale skin where I began to feel differently about being in Kacey’s house. I was not upset by the teasing, as I had been teased by my brothers numerous times but what Kaceys family was teasing me for made me realize how different Kacey and her family looked from me. And if Kacey and I were not so comfortable and she was not such a close friend to me, I would have most likely felt differently towards her after that.
I immediately became conscious of the appearance of myself and the others around me. This is also when I slowly came to realize that more people thought differently about other races that did not. For example, even though my parents would never speak unkindly about Kacey, I began to see that they subtly acted differently around her and talk about her differently. Although familiar with her, my parents would be more careful to not joke around with Kacey as opposed to some of my other friends and seemed as though they were scared to say something wrong around her. I began to see, piece by piece, the invisible barriers set up between people of different races. For example I started to notice some of the teachers at my school treating me and Kacey differently in little ways, for example one teacher used to tell me that she talked to my parents all of the time but never really mentioned Kacey’s parents. My introduction the separation of races and consciousness of skin colour has had many negative effects on me. One example being that it caused me feel more similar and comfortable with other people of my own race. However, this experience also had a positive effect on me because remembering how unsettling it was to feel like the only person like me in a room, caused me to be more empathetic towards people who feel that constantly on a much larger scale.

The True Canadian Identity

 

            The moment I came to know Canada as a place of resilience and fortitude was the moment I adjusted my viewpoint on who represents what “Canada” means. Originally when I thought of Canada I thought of the carefree, unrealistically nice people displayed by the media and by various descriptions. Then, as I continued through education I began to know Canada as the many unpleasant things in this country like greed, genocide, and superiority. However, the people that truly define what Canada is and should be are the downtrodden individuals. The ones that often have no support and no benefits but still manage to have the strength to fight for the greater good.

 

            I identify this country by the people who can honestly say they fought for and earned power completely through their own ability. When I think of Canada I think of the moments in our history such as the women’s suffrage movement (which unfortunately only referred to caucasian women) , where women fought a losing battle for decades in hope to gain the acknowledgement and impact they deserved. Women like my great great great grandmother Cinia James Woodmansee. Cinia was a suffragette. The people like her who even with limited resources, were able to see through something normalized and know it had to be changed.  The ones that no matter how much influence they have, brought awareness to what is wrong, and compelled change. Canada is our fighters. Canada is our revolutionists and optimists. Canada is the people who know what is to be valued and choose not to give up or roll over because they believe in a better future.

Cinia Woodmansee’s essay on women’s suffrage

 

My Home that Lies Away from Home

We drove about halfway down the all too familiar crescent and pulled into the beaten gravel driveway. The sight of our compact, but inviting wood cabin brought me a flood of euphoric memories and an immediate feeling of relief. It was as if I was finally able to be 100% myself once again. It took the majority of the day for everyone to get organised and geared up before leaving the city, as it had time and time before, so by the time we arrived the sky was already dark, aside from the radiance of the moon. As everyone was unpacking and preparing for bed, I began my first night custom of plugging in the rainbow coloured awning lights that hung between two birch trees, jumping into the cotton rope hammock and glancing at the constellations. It was a breathtaking view I had seen many times previously, but it had a special place in my heart as it was one of my first glimpses of the beauty that the world had to offer.

 

I have never had a more comfortable sleep in comparison to the old, worn mattress placed in the middle bedroom of my family cabin. Whether it was the feeling of privacy, a feeling of security brought by my sizable group of family, or a contrast of both, I was completely at ease. Mornings at the cabin began full of excitement and adventure, that particular morning’s excitement came from my cousin and I putting on our bathing suits and filling our lunches to bring to the water park. The morning at the cabin was always my favorite part of the day, as it typically smelled of greenery, morning dew and Tim Horton’s coffee. Mom heated it up in a pot over the stove because “it made the coffee taste better”. A smell so familiar and drawing it became timeless to me.

 

Songs I grew to love such as George Strait’s greatest hits were emitted through our floor speaker placed on the right corner of the deck, and the sweet sound of sizzling bacon came from the frying pan that sat on the fold out table. A table that always triggered anticipation, as it was only brought out by my mother and my aunt when they were going to make a large and delicious (though slightly unhealthy) breakfast. A table that also held a lot of positive connotations towards it was the dining table, which seemed to always have the consistent sound of lighthearted conversations and laughter echoing from around it. It was a little red picnic table that held many past conversation, and it was at that table where I had shaped many of my opinions, discovered many of my current interests, and helped form many aspects of my identity. I found my home by sitting back and taking in what that old cabin and the people in it had to offer. And home will always be that cabin, in the way it invariably captures my senses and feelings.