Today is International Day of Persons with Disabilities. This United Nations observance promotes the rights and well-being of people with disabilities in all spheres of society. To commemorate this year’s celebration, we asked a lovely long-standing poet from our open mic community—Amy Litzinger—to pen one of her distinctive “Dear Ableism” letters.
She delivered a thoughtful, true-to-form piece that encapsulates many of the frustrations, triumphs, and hopes that define life with a disability. As always, she articulates, frankly and unapologetically, the myriad thoughts that swirl in our minds when we think of disability rights. May it move you, with fire, to stay active in the advocacy ahead.
Thank you, Amy!
Dear Ableism,
We’re going to talk about the same things we always talk about lately. Because you’re still not hearing me. Medicaid renewals, Electronic Visit Verification, overtime, and more medical for me (supposedly for your convenience). You seem to be very bored with most of the outside world, so you keep telling me what I can’t do, instead of watching me do what I can. I think you’re jealous that I do so much despite all of your barriers.
I don’t know. I just really don’t know what it is you want. I feel like we’re constantly trying to prove ourselves to you. Paperwork, testing, and time clocks. And diagnoses. Why? Why do you need to know? Does it really matter how much money I make if you know it’s never going to cover everything I need? Do I really have to provide hourly summaries of whether I worked at the same location all day if one person is definitely needed to get me in and out of bed, and well everywhere? If you don’t care about what all my peers are doing every 15 minutes, who cares what I’m doing?
You have proven in so many ways that you don’t care about me. Clearly you don’t care about my education and growth, so don’t bother pretending that this is about ensuring my quality of life. It isn’t and we both know that. It’s about control. It’s about you refusing to understand our lives as whole people. As people who have real priorities and who want our time valued. You still don’t understand disability culture. You don’t see the point of community services. You see us, and apparently our employees, as takers, not givers. We’re system burdens, not capacity builders.
But I’m a pioneer, not a problem. I’m outstanding, and NOT an outlier! I’m a classic, and I refuse to be a casualty of your willful ignorance. We are allowed to be out in public. We’re allowed to expect to own our own time and space. We should have lives longer than 40 hours a week. People are allowed to need others to cover their shifts at any time during a pay period. Didn’t we just learn not to come to work sick during the pandemic? And no, I’m not disposable, even though you keep trying to take all of my joy apart…through burnout, bureaucracy, and complex medical frontiers.
When I feel good, I want to have fun. Or just enjoy the ability to decide what to do. Not justify my use of funding. You should be offering services to more people, not nitpicking services you offer, but apparently don’t expect people to actually use as you say they were intended.
Go away, Ableism! It’s time to find someone who appreciates all I do in spite of you and all the extra work you make for me. Someone who makes my Sunday (morning)s easy again, not hard like you. Someone who understands that “Baby you’re so classic.” Someone who says “I’m so into you I can barely breathe.” Get out of the way, Ableism. Move over, New Diagnosis Grief. It’s time to love myself again. “And all I wanna do is to fall in deep.”
A—I am 1 in 6.
Amy Litzinger is a 35-year-old self-advocate, born with cerebral palsy. She enjoys adding theatrical elements to her legislative advocacy. She is a founding member of Southwestern University’s Theater for Social Justice student organization. Notably, members decided to create a traveling show surrounding disability issues on campus. She joined Body Shift Collective through Art Spark Dance in 2010, upon completing her BA in political science, English and comparative religions. In 2014, she was an original company member for TILT Performance Group, co-writing and performing in 45°, their first original production. In 2015, Amy finished an MA in Theological Studies from Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, where her thesis focused on the emerging theology of disability, and how the church can use its theology to advocate for disability issues. Concurrently, she became certified as an instructor through DanceAbility International. She is currently Public Policy Lead for Texas Parent to Parent, teaching families to participate in legislative advocacy at the Capitol, and through statewide and local committees. She serves as Chair of the governor-appointed Continuing Advisory Committee for Special Education. Amy is currently expanding her artistic endeavors to include digital art to augment her painting expertise, and rates as part of a continuing series “Dear Ableism” through The Lion and the Pirate Inclusive Open Mic.