We’re living in scary times.
For my US and international friends, I’m sure we’ve all seen the news. Atrocities seen in history books we’ve all sworn to never repeat. History that isn’t even as old as people like to try and make it seem. History some of our grandparents and great grandparents lived through.
I remember reading The Diary of Anne Frank and telling myself and friends how I’d happily hide Anne. Reading about and admiring Harriet Tubman for leading the slaves to freedom. I talked all the time about how I’d be one of the houses along the Underground Railroad that they could come stay in without having to worry. I remember always wanting to protect people. And I still do.
It’s become so much more heartbreaking now that I have little to no physical ability to make an impact. My health has gotten in the way of so many things. I can no longer attend protests. I can no longer promise to be the getaway car for my friends at demonstrations. Today, I can’t even hardly walk.
But I still continue to do what I can. I donate. I raise awareness. I make sure my friends know I can help provide first aid, meals, a place to lay their heads and rest their bones. I support in any way I can. And that all changes day to day, too. Sometimes, very rarely, I can join my friends at demonstrations. I can sit in the shade with snacks and water and a first aid kit to make sure I’m supporting the cause.
So here’s a gentle reminder for all my chronically ill and disabled baddies out there: Every little thing you do to help helps. It’s okay to care and still rest. It’s hard to fight to change the world when you have to fight with your body everyday. Take care of yourself, do what you can, and count on our community. We’re stronger together than apart.
The conversation of disability and civil rights is so nuanced, but it goes hand in hand. It’s our duty to continue to fight for a better day.
Love & Light, y’all.