Memories and traces of past mistakes should only serve as reminders NOT to make those mistakes again
I read a poem yesterday that made me cringe. Even though it was celebrating all the things that our human body can do, the whole thing screamed, “Ableist.” Why? Because even as it was talking about parts of our bodies and their uses – eyes, legs, ears and hands – there was no acknowledgment of people whose eyes do not see, ears do not hear, and legs that don’t walk. And by not including such individuals, it was as though this poem is not for them. But it should be, because it was talking about “everyone.” Except that it didn’t. What made me feel worse about recognizing this in the poem was knowing who the author of the poem was: Me. That’s right. Even though I was Deaf (I lost my hearing when I was 13), I wrote a poem about the human body WITHOUT acknowledging that for some people, ears do not hear and eyes do not see, etc. In other words, I had written an ableist poem. Me, a Deaf person, someone who has had to fight ableism for years, writing something ...