I will be honest; the first few minutes of the video "In My Language" were hard for me to get through (don't worry, my opinion changes). After a long day of school, the humming hurt my head, and I kept checking in dismay to see if the whole 8-minute video would be the same noises. Other than exhaustion, I believe my neurodivergence of anxiety perhaps increased my worry (I tend to get anxious when I hear repetitive sounds). 

The part of the readings that struck me most this week was a part of Margaret Price's "Mad at School" that discussed differences and overlap between "healthy disabled" and "unhealthy disabled" (pp. 12-13). This is an idea that's been in the back of my mind throughout class discussions, as I've struggled with the differences between disabled people and their experiences and how they view their disability.

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/down-syndrome-iceland/

First, let me say, those were some emotionally tough readings, y'all! Pats on the back for everyone getting through them. 

Doing the reading for this week a couple of quotes stuck out to me. Particularly I keep thinking of Singer's comment that "Disability makes a person 'worse off.'" What exactly does he mean by worse off? How could one decide at the moment that a child is born that their life in not worth living. What makes a life worth living? Are the able to walk on their own, live without the day-to-day assistance of other, or not pose a 'burden' to their families? In Singer's point of view the presence or absence of a disability dictates the quality of life that they and their family will live.

One of the things I thought about most while doing the readings for this week was the language that Singer used and the assumptions he made about disabilty and the value/quality of life of people with disabilites. Taylor's chapter helped put words to a lot of what I thought about Singer's piece, especially her points about how Singer only views disability from a medical perspective and how he makes these broad assumptions about disability without really understanding it or getting the perspectives of people with disabilities.

In Taking Life: Human, Peter Singer weighs the overall “happiness” potential of a disabled infant and an unborn healthy infant. He argues that the killing of a disabled infant will lead to greater prospects of happiness for non-disabled infants. Singer assumes that the death of one child automatically leads to the birth of another child, treating infants like interchangeable objects. His argument does not follow scientific logic and ignores the emotional connection established with all newborns. Singer’s abstract argument sharply contrasts the personal experiences of Chris Gabbart who writes about his relationship with his son, August who is born with cerebral palsy, visual impairment, and cognitive disabilities.

I spoke last week on how lack of resources can limit a disabled person's knowledge about disability. From reading, "Access Intimacy: The Missing Link," I now feel that lack of resources, particularly in the form of relationships, can affect those without a disability as well. Almost instinctually, I understood the experience of access intimacy. In particular, I remembered how as a freshman, I joined a new club that requires many physical demands. It was not unusual for me for peers my age to often forget my needs, but one member quietly and politely would check in with me to make sure I felt safe and to get whatever I could not. As the blog states, they just "clicked with" me, in that they "got" my access needs without needing previous discussions.

When I was reading the link on access intimacy I kept thinking how we live in a world that is "meant for the able bodied." That is something that is evident in the infrastructure of our buildings, the curriculum of ours schools, and the criteria for job positions, among many other factors. In such an abled bodied world I can't help but think about how much intimacy and interpersonal relations may matter when all else in the world seems to be operating against the disabled. I haven't found a way to articulate it comletely, but I will try my best. Something as simple as the glance you give someone may mean nothing to the "able bodied" but mean ten times more to the "differently abled." Specifically I was thinking back to when I was working at camp over the summer.