09/07/2022
One year ago, Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to be an Ally, officially made its way into the world. It's weird to talk about my book like it's my baby and I'm celebrating its first birthday, but in a way, I do feel like I've nurtured it lovingly and experienced the roller coaster of bringing it to life and sustaining it since its conception as a tiny seedling of an idea back in 2019.
Okay, that's enough of the baby comparison. Anyway, it's probably more accurate to flip things around: this book has sustained me.
How do we move ahead when each push forward seems like its met by two pushes back? I know I've had so many moments of feeling helpless or hopeless, worn down by yet another encounter with ableism, burnt out by the endless grind of activism, wondering if it's worth it to keep going in this work.
But then messages will pop up in my inbox with kind notes from people who read Demystifying Disability. And they'll tell me that their child engaged in a conversation about disability because they saw the book's cover. That as a disabled person, they felt seen. That they have now decided to embrace their disability as an identity. That they've realized how they, as a nondisabled person, can better support their disabled child, spouse, parent, friend, colleague, student. That they want to put action behind being an ally, even if they make mistakes along the way.
None of this is to say I haven't also received valid critiques from readers. I'm always learning, growing, and trying to do better, just as I ask others to do the same. I'm one disabled person among more than a billion, and my experiences and perspectives aren't representative of the entire population. My book is a stone thrown into an ocean, rippling outward among so many waves. (Yes, we're on to another extended metaphor.)
There's something both humbling and empowering about being part of the ripple effect toward change--to know that what I've written could possibly help lead even one person toward not just accepting, but embracing disability for all its messy, complicated beauty. I don't take this responsibility lightly, nor do I take anyone's willingness to read my words for granted.
As my book enters its second year of existence, I'm committed to continuing the work, even when the waters are rough, to shift toward a more inclusive, accessible world. I hope that in whatever way is most accessible to you (swimming, jet-skiing, inner tube that looks like a donut, etc.), we can continue to navigate these waters together.
Image description: Me, a white woman with brown curly hair and glasses, wearing a black dress, sitting in wheelchair, holding multiple copies of Demystifying Disability.