One of my letters to the editor got in "The Nation" this week.
As a disabled reader of The Nation, I read the portrait of Kalispell, Montana in the January 13 issue with mounting dismay. I’m not a doctor or an epidemiologist, but a writer with cerebral palsy who is intimately familiar with the frustrations that come with the loss of control of my body or environment. In a country steeped in rugged individualism, even though I don’t really believe in it, it doesn’t really get easier either, though I hate to say that.
However, I would like to tell the anti-mask scofflaws of Montana, that just because you’re not in total control doesn’t mean you are being actively oppressed. It stinks for all of us that we can’t congregate the way Americans always had, but I hate to think of people being put at risk of disability or death so that their neighbors or family members can pretend they have the same control they’ve always had. Also, if they can’t cope with a few restrictions now, what happens to the long-haulers, struggling to recover, maybe for years or for life. That is definitely harder than wearing a square of cloth on your face. Most of you will probably be lucky and just have the year (or two) when you found out what limitations in physical space felt like—in a small way, I envy you that. Many times, due to lack of access of various kinds, I’ve been distanced, or working at home, before it was cool.
Control must be nearly as deadly an illusion as the power of whiteness.
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