I didn’t watch the Golden Globes, but saw Meryl Streep’s speech the next day. As she blatantly called out the president-elect on his bullying of Serge Kovaleski, a disabled reporter, I wondered why that specific incident “sank its hooks in [her] heart,” specifically when I have otherwise not heard anything from Streep about disability justice.
Have you ever wondered why the song is titled “Walking in a Winter Wonderland”? The answer is quite simple: the Winter Wonderland is completely inaccessible, leaving thousands of people with physical disabilities and mobility impairments unable to traverse through the snow-covered sidewalks. Nowhere is this more problematic than on college campuses. While I’m fortunate enough
Why is it that so many people look at a single person from a minority group and automatically assume that they represent the group as a whole? Nowhere does this issue, known as tokenism, seem more prevalent than in higher education. In my experience, it’s been a huge problem. As an Early Childhood Education Major,
“As you saw, it’s a lot of coordination involved between moving the chair, pointing to maps and of course using the weather clicker,” Chikage Windler, chief meteorologist at CBS Austin, explains about her experience of using a wheelchair on the job. She participated in Archer’s Challenge, an initiative aimed at educating able-bodied people about barriers
Here’s an unpopular opinion: Anderson Cooper’s recent coverage of “drive-by lawsuits” on 60 Minutes wasn’t nearly as egregious as many disabled people seem to believe. Such lawsuits, named for the speed and lack of warning with which they are initiated, are filed against business owners whose locations do not fully comply with the accessibility standards
Growing up as an undiagnosed autistic girl, I had many “behaviors” that baffled my parents and medical professionals. Seemingly unprovoked meltdowns, ritualistic, repetitive movements, and episodes of compulsive self-injury were explained away as a part of puberty, or diagnosed as a litany of mental illnesses. Throughout the years I received poor treatment from doctors and
“You don’t look disabled,” a well-meaning colleague said. How do you respond to that? Say “thank you,” as if somehow you hit the jackpot that your disability was not immediately apparent? I opted not to extend false gratitude. Smiling, I replied: “What does someone with a disability look like?” My response flipped a small switch.