Do you remember the other day when we were talking and you were so into the topic? But I had the problem of not being able to pay attention long enough that I wouldn’t have to ask you to repeat yourself? You dismissed the conversation, telling me you had an errand to run. Do you remember my son? He’s in the same class with your daughter. And it was the “worst situation ever”, so you told the principal. I remember countless meetings where I was told that home-schooling seemed like a better option, all because he can’t help his ticks. His short bursts of occasionally making noise or shouting obscenities is not his fault.
Somewhere, there is someone who can’t control their neural activity and every so often has a seizure. Some people’s emotions are “out of whack” because they suffer from the same thing you use to characterize the weather. People like us are intelligent and delightful until are bodies are forced to succumb to the likes of our brain and I can never understand why, in the period of ten seconds, we become this “other person”?
It’s like you preach that “you are not your circumstance” until it comes to those whose circumstances are a part of them. People like us seem to make up a fair portion of the margin, of the minority, but only until it is time to produce a new movie. Can you imagine being the “perfect person” and someone decides to misrepresent you in their drama series? It’s infuriating, damaging, and wrong. And from the “perfect person” to us, there is no difference.
So world, I ask you to discard your ableism and give us your love because even the imperfect deserve affection. In the same way you mine your ores and appreciate the raw mineral, accept us in our rawest forms as well. We come in many shapes and sizes and colors, too, but we’re all equally as beautiful. Our imperfections are what makes us – what makes me – who we are. And I am worthy of love and appreciation, regardless of your opinions.