Don't Rock The Boat

As I sit here in my seventh week of Isolation, I’m finding time to work on my art, cleaning, reading books I had lined up over the years, for when I had time, and reading the multitudes of poor me Facebook posts about being in lock down. One post struck me and provoked a streak of anger, I could not pinpoint.

I had to dig deep to figure out where that deep-seated anger came from, and why this person’s statement triggered me the way it did. I thought about it, but it was a paragraph in a book I was reading that shed light on it, and it was more than just a post in Facebook. I just finished Robin Diangelo’s new book White Fragility, which I bought several months ago. When I got to chapter 10 it took one paragraph to explain the last 23 years of this feeling I had, but couldn’t put my finger on. Let me share it with you.

From White Fragility and the Rules of Engagement, page 127: “Respect: The problem with this guideline is that respect is rarely defined, and what feels respectful to white people can be exactly what does not create a respectful environment for people of color. For example, white people often define as respectful an environment with no conflict, no expression of strong emotion, no challenging of racist patterns, and a focus on intentions over impact. But such an atmosphere is exactly what creates an inauthentic, white-norm-centered, and thus hostile environment for people of color.”

You might ask what does that have to do with disabled people? Well, Ableism is alive and well, and if we were to take out people of color and replace it with people with disabilities, it is how I reached my “aha” moment. Let’s try it. “Respect: The problem with this guideline is that respect is rarely defined, and what feels respectful to able-bodied people can be exactly what does not create a respectful environment for people with disabilities. For example, able-bodied people often define as respectful an environment with no conflict, no expression of strong emotion, no challenging of racist patterns, and a focus on intentions over impact. But such an atmosphere is exactly what creates an inauthentic, ableism-norm-centered, and thus hostile environment for people with disabilities.”

Then I thought back to that day in February 2018, where I sat in a room with Allies from the Alaska Commission on Aging, Alaska State Independent Living, Disabilities and Special Education, Mental Health Trust Authority, Pioneers’ Home Advisory Board, and realized there were no allies in the room, as they threw our elders, disabled, and mentally ill community members under the bus.

I watched these well-educated members as they prematurely took a victory lap because their budgets were not cut. Of course, I knew this wasn’t going to happen; I knew that Dunleavy would come after these programs and our people sooner if not later.

Like I always do, regardless of whether I believe anyone will have my back, I spoke up and said, "He has not come after us, yet, and if you don't believe he will you are sadly misguided. We need to organize now, build a plan, and work together so we are ready for when he does come for us. We need to be ready for the inevitable.”

I sat there dumbfounded as everyone in that room said, "Now, now, don't jump the gun; let’s just wait and see." They effectively silenced me, placating me, and in doing so, silenced anyone else who might have spoken up, who knew we were next on the budget chopping block.

What happened in that meeting after Dunleavy rolled out his first set of budget cuts was nothing short of an abomination, and an insult to the people these groups represent. Maybe it was the fear of losing their jobs, or their precious prestigious seat on the boards they occupied, or maybe it was something simpler, the very nature of being cast out of the group, and losing their place of belonging.

Some might think I am attacking the good people who joined these groups or work for these agencies to help those people. But don’t get me wrong. This is not an attack on the good intentions; this is me shedding light on our subconscious able-bodied privilege, and our inability to see our deep-seated unconscious judgement and entitlement and inability to hear or see that they don’t always know what is best.

As I have learned after becoming disabled, this comes across as a superman mentality, in other words, the able-bodied people are here to save us. So we are supposed to bow and cheer them on for their gracious contributions to us. “Hip Hip Hooray!” Whoopie, they have come to our rescue, smile and be thankful for what we get.

What really happened was that I was gaslighted by the very people who volunteered, worked, and represented the programs they had signed up in order to support and protect our most vulnerable.

I joined the board as a disabled individual to represent my peers, to make a difference in the lives of those with disabilities who feel we have no voice. What I learned was that the boards for our most vulnerable are made up of privileged able-bodied individuals who make sure to keep the status quo. We are not elected to these boards to make waves.

I learned in that year that my value as a disabled individual wasn’t in using my voice. My role was to take my seat and shut my mouth and roll with what was decided by the entitled white able-bodied individuals in the room. I found out that the minute one of us speaks up and gets out of line according to these unwritten rules, we are shamed, placated, silenced, and or removed. Just like in that meeting where they turned my willingness to call out the sheep in wolves’ clothing, and I was met with defiance, treated as hostile, and stupid. This is their only defense to neutralize me so that they can continue to keep the rest of the group in line and keep the sheep in order.

God forbid we challenge the Privileged and dare I say it (white) able-bodied superiority, and their unwritten rule of respect.

Several of us with disabilities sat in that room and felt the hostility, each of us silently trying to figure out what we were experiencing. It was more than just being alone among people who saw us as having no value to the conversation. Think about it: even you are questioning why, why would they make you feel that way, and you are attempting to justify and are thinking to yourself that I am over thinking, imagining it, or took it wrong. But can you see the irony, in your thought process right now, because as an able-bodied individual how would you know? Because who better, than those of us living with disabilities, would know what we are going through?

Yet, time and time again we are dismissed, told we should be thankful for what our privileged ableism community members do for us and to show them respect. We must remain dependent upon our super heroes, and stay the victim. Don’t you dare speak up, or get out of turn. “DON’T YOU APPRECIATE ANYTHING WE HAVE DONE FOR YOU?” How many of us have heard that line before?

Like so many of us, I couldn’t figure it out, and didn’t realized it then, but I am realizing each day that when we step out of line and speak our truth, and fight for our own justice and for those who society deems collateral damage. we are not just speaking out in objection to this administration's budget, views, and vial comments. We are speaking out against an ideology as old as time, pure and simple ableism bias, and the act of giving others license to treat people they deem expendable any way they like.

As a disabled individual, I was to be the perfect poster child, I was supposed to take my seat at the table and not rock the boat, and let my saviors, rescue and care for us in the way they deem fit. I was to condone it to insure that the privileged majority can continue to do what they always do, gaslight, and do nothing, because that is in the words of our sponsors, “That’s how we have always done it.”

It has taken me a long time to identify and realize I am not the crazy one. This form of placating is the very essence of what has been going on in this country and in our very own state for the past 23 years, or longer. It has only becoming more and more obvious as the President of the United States creates an environment that allows for its normalcy.

Challenging ableism bias towards our most vulnerable community members, and the obvious complete blindness to the white able-bodied privilege is suffocating. The biggest excuse I hear, is well we are out of money, we had to make cuts. Explain to me why those cuts must come at the expense of lives?

I keep hearing we need to take the high road. What if that is just a way to keep us in our place?

I believe in my heart that we need to rise loudly and make them listen to each one of us. We need to ignore the guilt trip they lay at our feet and stop allowing them to gaslight us. It is time to show them we matter, we have equity, and value in this life, and we are our own superheroes.

Written By Janalee L. Minnich Gage

Editor: Biz Robbins