When we read A Disability History of the United States, author Kim Nielsen took an intersectional approach with disability studies throughout the book. During class discussions we have briefly discussed how disability is connected to gender, race and class. I would like to further a conversation about the intersectionality of disability studies.

It's hard to get in the mindset of opperating as part of a "collective;" part of me wants to fight the label and take issue with being placed into one big grouping. I guess this is simply part of human nature- no one wants to be uninteresting or unimportant, and unfortunatly we often equate this with not standing out. It's not that I feel I'm not contributing; in fact I know and feel deeply that anything that contributes to a cause is important. And I am progressing; I am increasingly trusted within BTB and am able to help more and more as time goes on. However, is just being there and doing what is needed enough? Is it as important a contribution as the ones made by those working at the other placements? 

This week I worked separately from the other two as they worked on updating the website while I went through poetry that had been submitted in the last year that needed to be sorted through. I told S and the others my idea for them to create a little contest for cover artwork for the poetry book. I explained that we could make a page or two in the book with honorary mentions of everyone who did submit but didn't get chosen for the cover, so that everyone gets their artwork shared whether they win or not.

Yesterday in class at the correctional facility, I felt like it was increasingly difficult to participate. I'm not sure what happened to the open, liberating, refreshing environment I and many of us described about the earlier classes. Yesterday I didn't feel that at all.

I think the dicussion around Kindred was really interesting; How did the plantation come to feel like home for Dana? Did Dana grow to love Rufus, or was it just fear? Still, I didn't feel as connected as I wanted to and I'm not sure why.

In the chapter we read this week, Meiners, referencing Audre Lorde and Alison Jaggar's work on outlaw emotions, wrote:

I also heed Lorde's warning that any display of anger will always be used against those that are marginalized. As Lorde writes, evocatively, in her essay, Uses of Anger: Everything can be used I except what is wasteful / (you will need/to remember this when you are accused of destruction). (Lorde, 1984, 127) 

I was very excited during Greg Davis’s visit to our class on Thursday. And very glad that, together, we found ourselves articulating @ least two central tenents of "scientific literacy": a healthy skepticism ("taking evidence and weighing it appropriately"), along with the capacity (this was Greg's language) to "feel comfortable with ignorance," even "thrilled" when you find yourself "over your head in things that are hard and confusing."

Anyhow, somewhere along the way, I said that Jody and I were both science-phobic, she said she thought I wasn’t, I said it was a complicated story….and I didn’t want to take up our shared time by telling it. But (due to the wonders of Serendip) I can share it here, for anyone who might be interested in reading it.

I found this new campaign that BBC launched called Disability Works. I thought it was very interesting and definitely working towards changing the narrative of disability! 

http://www.bbc.com/news/business-39040837

This is a link to one of the stories in the series. Thought I would share :)

Being sick has given me an interesting perspective on literacy. Actually, I've always felt that way. I've been chronically ill with a cocktail of type one diabetes, chronic pain, chronic fatigue, immune issues, anemia, and thyroid issues since I was young. I feel like I know everything about being sick, and in a way that is a type of liteacy. It's a literacy of pin pricks and needles, of thermometers and pills, of blood tests and vomit, of days spent in bed and hundreds of hours of netflix. It is a knowledge of what it is to be "sick." It's a library of phrases like "House bound," "Spoonie," and "Pill Pals." It is a literacy of perscriptions and doctors notes and sessions spent arguing for disability services.

In the Steven King novel Carrie, the titular character is shocked and suprised when she has her first period. Surrounded by mean girls in a cold locker room, she is singled out and made to feel wrong and stupid. Her mother simply never taught her what a period was. Without friends, Carrie is simply illiterate to a fact that is considered common knowledge. Eventually, her anger (over being bullied and feeling powerless) manifest with telekentic powers. These powers, not grounded in thought, but instead in impulse, allow her to murder the entire senior class. It is unclear as to if she is meant to be a tragic hero or a villain, but to me, she was always some sort of example of extremes; what happens when a lack of knowledge builds up and isn't allowed to expell its self.