A post of NOTE...

I've been having issues with notetakers lately.

I hold a pen very awkwardly due to my CP, as I think I mentioned here before. As a result, I write slowly and I get bad hand pain when I write. I usually use an AlphaSmart to type my notes, but obviously I can't do that in math. So I have a notetaker. In past years, all of my notetakers have been more than happy to do my notes, and I've had no problems. Not the case this year.

First of all, it took my math teacher a week just to find me a notetaker. That in and of itself was annoying. She picked a girl who sits two seats behind me, which was also slightly annoying, because then my notes have to go through a whole assembly line before they get to me. But I could live with that. Until my notetaker started annoying me...

First she told me she didn't want to carry the looseleaf. I let that one go. After all, I have a whole backpack, I can carry the looseleaf. Then she told me she didn't want to carry the carbon paper because it got all over her clothes. I was slightly more annoyed at that one, but again, I let it go. Again, I have the space to carry it. Then on Friday:

Notes Girl: *groans* "Oh, I'm so tired!! Do I have to do the notes today?"
Me (slightly grumpy): "Yes. You do."
Notes Girl: *shoves looseleaf and carbon paper into Random Girl's face* "Here! Do you want to do the notes today?"
Random Girl: "Umm...okay."

Then Random Girl asked her how to do the carbon paper. Not me. She asked the girl who's only been doing my notes for a month and didn't get the hang of the carbon paper for like two weeks. Am I just being picky, but isn't that just so wrong??

And that whole exchange came right after I heard one of the custodians comment to another that "The wheelchairs are coming." when he saw my friends coming down the hall. Hello?? Wheelchairs don't ride down the hall by themselves! There are people in them!!

Yeah. So I asked Random Girl to do my notes from now on because there was no way I was asking the other girl again. She seemed to want to do it. Seemed being the operative word. We'll see how this all unfolds....

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What defines disability? The Disability Experience

This question came up on a thread on my very favorite disability site, Ouch, where some people were pondering the vague comment by some of the moderators that "80% of Ouch users are able-bodied". Here was my response:

Hmmmmmmm....very interesting. See, the thing with this is I think we have to go past the stereotypical, medical definition of disability and start thinking of disability as a MINORITY group, much like any other racial or cultural group out there. Most of us have agreed in past threads that disability does have a culture, and even those who don't quite agree with that statement know that disability is a whole different world than the so called "able-bodied" or "normal" world. This board is not made up of all "disabled people" per se, however, it is made up of people who, "disabled" or not, are a part of the disability community in some way, shape, or form, and understand the differences b/w "our" world and "theirs", as I like to think of it. We have our own humor, ideas, etc. as this site clearly illustrates. The people who post on this board "get it", as I always say. Disability is not a medical condition, or even a state of mind so much as an....experience. We experience disability. Some of us, like myself, live it, and have lived it all our lives. Some of us are just beginning to tiptoe into this wonderful experience now, and are still coming to terms with the drastic differences. Some of us experience it through others, as some people have already mentioned. But no matter what, disability is a roller-coaster experience that will never leave you, no matter how "able-bodied" you may become. We are disabled. All of us, on this board, we're all disabled. We all know disability. We all experience it. We cannot, I repeat, CANNOT start defining who is really "able-bodied" and who is "disabled" on this board, because we know where it'll lead. First it'll start with animosity towards the supposed "ABs" and then, who knows? I mean, are we going to start moving towards a society dominated completely by those who we consider "disabled", and anyone who isn't disabled enough is eliminated? I know it sounds like something out of a science-fiction novel (one that I would probably write!), but that's what we're heading towards with all this pigeon-holing of people. Like I said, anyone who knows the disability experience is "disabled" in my eyes.

What say you? Let me know YOUR opinions!

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We're all just so darn special.

Am I the only one who thinks that the term "special needs" is not only annoying, it's also somewhat patronizing?

Seriously. The more I watch the presidential debates (*cough* GO OBAMA!! *cough* oops, straying off topic...lmao) the more I want to vomit all over my TV screen every time I hear the term "special needs". And it didn't escape my notice that the other night, McCain actually had the audacity to use the term "very special needs"! Oh, so now we're very special?? I guess the normies weren't content enough to just label us plain old special!

I mean, I know special means unique and unique means different and we are different, technically, it's just...it seems so condescending. I know! Let's ask the dictionary!

Hmmmmm...I didn't realize there'd be so many definitions for one of my most hated words of all time! But one of the definitions for special seems to fit my point...

spe·cial–adjective: extraordinary; exceptional, as in amount or degree; especial

Someone please gag me. I mean, I know crips are fabulous and all, but I wouldn't call us extraordinary or exceptional. We're just ordinary old people with some extra challenges to face.

In other news on Spaz Girl's Political Rants, I started a post on Sarah Palin forever ago that I never finished. Maybe I should go do that now...

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And here it comes...my rant on Sarah Palin.

OK, I've been waiting for a chance to post this for a long time. Let me make this LOUD and clear: I HATE SARAH PALIN!! You would think I'd be all for her, right, with all this talk she's touting about the disabled having "a friend in the White House"? Hah, guess again. She's a liar and a phony and I despise the way she's exploiting that poor son of hers.

That's right. "That poor son of hers." Oh no, I don't feel bad for him because he has Down Syndrome. Sorry, I'm not going for that. You all know how I feel about pity-it makes me want to GAG!!! I feel bad for him because he's being shamlessly exploited by his own mother and he's too young to even know it.

Take a look at her website. Instead of anything substantial on her views, there's a rather large and fluffy page devoted to "comments and blessings" on her son, Trig. Also notice that in the picture to the right of the site page, she's holding her son. She was also holding her son when she made her acceptance speech. She's obviously going for the pity factor to get more votes. It makes me SICK the way she's exploiting that baby.

In her acceptance speech, Sarah Palin said "And children with special needs inspire a special love." Ugggggggh....we're all just so special! Ah, no, we're people. To me, the word "special" used in relation to disabled people, as well as the term "special needs" is condescending and idiotic. I want to ban it. Why should we be loved any different than a "normal" child? Aren't we just as important as a "normal" child, aren't we on equal terms with a "normal" child? Apparently Sarah Palin doesn't think so.

And did anyone else notice the other night when a question came up about autism and McCain said Sarah Palin would know better about autism than he would?! I mean, what was up with that?! He can't possibly have been lumping autism and Down Syndrome together, can he? God almighty, please tell me he did not do that! And as for Palin's supposed understanding of autism, have you heard she's being sued by the family of an autistic boy because she won't provide 24 hr care? Uh huh. Check it out. And you can also read the First Amended Complaint of the case here. That's understanding, all right.

All I can say is that if McCain/Palin win, us crips are in serious trouble.

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I have a brain, thank you.

The trials of being a short bus rider...

Short buses usually have an aide on the bus, more commonly known among us crips as a driver's assistant or D.A. These aides are supposed to help you with various things, but most of the time they're pretty much useless. Other than that, though, I've never really had a problem with them. Until now.

The D.A on my morning bus seems convinced that me and my fellow cripples are mentally retarded. She has continually tried to help me put on my seatbelt, and when I put it on *gasp* she gives me a thumbs up and says "Good girl." in the tone you'd normally use for a puppy. She has also told me to "move my pretty toe" when she's wheeling my friend into her spot. She's terrified that my other friend is going to crash her power wheelchair when she's a perfectly capable driver. Basically, she thinks we have no brains. It's half funny and half infuriating. And it's only the second week of school! God knows how I'm going to put up with her for the rest of the year...

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Candidly Crippled is now Butterfly Dreams!

Yes, I've changed the title of the blog. Yes, I have also changed the layout (isn't it BEAUTIFUL?? I found it online and absolutely fell in love with it). No, the link has not changed. And yes, like all things I do, I had a reason for the switch.

The butterfly has always been of particular importance to me, because it represents freedom. It is also the symbol of the summer camp for kids with physical disabilities that has given me unimaginable freedom over the past four years. The metaphor of the butterfly applies to my life in infinite ways. As I get older, and become more independent, I spread my wings a little more, and soon I will take off and fly away, on my own. I have undergone many metamorphoses in the past few years: not the least of them, my transformation from a "normal" kid that just couldn't keep up with her peers to a full out cripple. This particular change in point of view has been brought about by a number of factors-my gradual drifting away from my able-bodied classmates and my summers at camp among those who are cripples and proud come to mind. I have realized that being "normal" is overrated, and being a little freakish isn't so bad. Showing my true colors is better than not showing any colors at all.

And finally for the second part of my new title-dreams. Dreams are also very significant in my life-I've learned throughout my 16 years on this earth that there is no such thing as an impossible dream, that through hard work and perseverence you can make your dreams come true, even those that may seem crazy. I had a dream to help other people with disabilities: I made it happen. I had a dream to dance and move my body to music just like a "normal" girl. And although our style may not be as graceful or as poised as a typical ballerina, the girls of our class have more spirit and drive than anyone I've ever seen. I had a dream that one day I'd feel like I belonged somewhere-and I've found it. Dreams do come true.

So what do you think? Nicer than the old blog, huh? I'm starting school tomorrow (yikes! definitely not the place where I belong!) so I won't be able to blog for awhile, but just know that I'm still here and I still have plenty of ideas for this blog.

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Not Just Another Camp

For years I have been trying to explain to people, verbally and in writing, what exactly is it about camp that I love so much and crave so much during the year. While I was mulling over this question, an essay kind of poured out of me, which I would like to share with you. It's edited a little bit so as not to reveal any personal information, but I think it's the closest I'm going to get to expressing the magic of camp.

I know a place that is my own utopia. Here, all barriers, whether physical or mental in nature are broken down within a matter of days, something the world's leaders could only dream about. People of all cultures, races, beliefs, and abilities live, laugh and love in harmony, without fear of being judged. We stand (or sit) proud of who we are, unafraid and unashamed. Stereotypes are quickly proven wrong in this perfect place, and soon you forget that you ever saw those around you as anything less than friends, comrades, and most of all equals. Our differences are embraced, making up the rich mosaic of what our society should be, but isn't-yet. Four summers in this place have taught me infinitely many lessons-not all of them easy to learn. I have come to realize that we are not broken toys waiting to be fixed; rather, we are strong, independent human beings with hearts, minds, and spirits of our own. The freedom I have found here far exceeds anything that could be written law; it is incomprehensible and inexplicable. I feel like the phoenix-rising from the ashes to take flight once more. Leaders of the world today would be astonished at the microcosmic potential of a little camp for cripples nestled quietly in an unobtrusive town. If only those leaders would stop looking for answers in craftily worded doctrines and realize the peace and acceptance that has been going on nearly under their noses all this time. If only everyone could know the power of camp, I firmly believe that the world would be a better place.

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