My attendant mentioned that she hates grocery shopping with me because people stare at her with pity. I can’t say I blame her, it happens every week. What I did find strange was that she’s been working with me for a year, and only mentions this today. Maybe because when I backed out of the elevator some guy thought it would be funny to pretend like I ran over his foot. Yes, people do that. It’s on the scale of things that makes me wish I was bold enough to actually run over their foot and sit there for a few minutes. You start to wonder if you could’ve done things differently. I’ve seriously considered wearing make-up to the grocery store, or at least a “Piss on Pity” shirt.

We shouldn’t need such armour just to avoid a side of contempt with our cornflakes at the grocery store.

There are people I’ve known my entire life who think I’m somehow exempt from things like this, because they couldn’t imagine it. They dismiss it as unintentional or ignorance, but its objectification. Treating people like less than human beings. Small on their own, but like a steady leak that eventually leads to rot.

People wonder how big acts of oppression, discrimination and violence occur. It’s through the build-up of those small things, day after day it wears on your soul, your energy to act, and how your people are seen over time. Before long the raised voices become quietly archived history.

Disabled people are under constant threat of erasure. Our experiences undermined, our stories told through someone else. I heard today that in response to the assisted suicide decision, there’s talk of developing a list of disabled people. I think they could use a history refresher. Society in general has not been kind to those who get asked to register their status. People who’ve never had to worry about these things have a remarkable ability to ignore the lessons of the past.

I was at the Art Gallery of Ontario today with a friend. There was a section that was about art and politics, and it said that focusing on the positive leads to greater change. It got me thinking that maybe people need to hear more about who disabled people really are. There are many disabled people doing great things, and most of us are pretty quiet about it. I think it’s time we got louder, but more importantly, it’s time for the non-disabled to start listening.