a "miracle" at 45...

Between one thing and another, I never imagined I'd be this age...kind of at the same time that I thought that one lucky break could catapult me into Trend Piece America, with its fads and vague jobs in media. I'm not sure if anyone ever got to live that story(Helen Gurley Brown, maybe) but I didn't, because my birthday is also literally an accident anniversary--as the years mount, I think maybe it's weird that I've always been so anticipatory of it(although these reflections aren't really about the size of the number...29 was actually the hardest to cope with so far because whenever I gave the digit anywhere, NOBODY believed me and thought I was being Coy Lady Who Doesn't like to Give Her Age, which is, you know, the opposite of what I'm about, but also, not sure why this is a thing.  I think your favorite movie might give you away one day anyway.(Too much John Hughes and I don't want an instagram...don't think I could sell 29 now!)  But that actually happened with a cop when I was a witness to a fender bender that year...not like I tried to work up angst about it, but turning thirty was actually a huge relief and, thankfully, no longer funny to anyone.

Maybe 45 will be like that, too. I already am glad to be experiencing so much political and disability solidarity.  I know what "we" are going to do for the next year or so, but as "me", I feel a little lost. i might decide what to do with "Somebody",but I ran out of big plans when "When I graduate. I am SO GONE" didn't happen or when nobody(mostly...there were a few exceptions) printed my attempts to write like an able-bodied person to show that I had Range(TM) Some of them were cute--I've found printouts in my dresser...thanks, Mom, but I guess I can see now why Perry White's heart didn't stop for those confections of airy wordplay wrapped around decidedly softball interviews with the occasional speck of insight that I usually didn't follow up.I wish somebody could have said the right thing to push me past all that, instead of marvelling that I was anywhere at all.

I almost died when I was born...my parents, on those few occasions when they talk about it, called my survival a miracle, but I think that made me think that there would be a point to all this somewhere, maybe even that somebody would say"Wow, lucky thing we know that girl who had oxygen loss to her brain!" or that I would have the kind of disabled life that makes it seem like mobility is for suckers...SPOILER ALERT: Nothing like this happened.  Unfortunately.  And I've never been to England, but I've driven through Oklahoma.

I wrote an op-ed...

Which I hope will appear in "a slightly different form" in our local newspaper.

I’m a published writer, but lately the little I’ve been writing all contains the phrase”as a disabled person, I…”which is hardly a phrase that would gain me fame or fortune. Historically, we’ve had things decided for us without a place at the table.That’s why I must urge Jeff Flake, as my elected representative in the Senate,  to consider the brilliant testimony of disability advocate Liz Weintraub. A vote for Kavenaugh is a vote against my bodily autonomy and self-determination, whether overtly, such as deciding that someone else should make my healthcare decisions, or in more of a slow-motion manner by undermining mechanisms, such as Medicaid, that provide healthcare in the first place.

Judge Kavenaugh has shown that he does not care about the rights that so many people(including  myself in some small ways) have fought so hard for, to live and work in our communities and stay in our homes: to be full members of our families and full and equal citizens. More than lesser concerns about secrecy and the hidden elements of Kavenaugh’s life and record(such as the mysterious benefactor who paid back all he owed for buying baseball tickets…may student-loan borrowers be so fortunate one day), lack of respect for my personhood as a disabled American woman has thrust me into this fight.

I understand that the odds are long, that a lot of shadowy people with deep pockets are really hoping people like me tear our hair out for sixty days. I also understand that, as someone whose upcoming birthday is something of an accident anniversary, my whole life has  been based around facing and surpassing long odds, even if I’ve never “overcome” my impairment in the classic sense. Maybe we can defend our nation the way we defended ACA…it seems like life-and-death to me, a humble activist and ink-stained wretch…shouldn’t it to my Senator too?

quick update...

Sorry, all, that it's been so long since the Bohemian Crip checked in. I had to put on my activist hat for a while, though I'm not sure I ever fully take it off now, and a few of the books i've read thinking they would make awesome posts seem less than crucial reading for perilous times, although I may revisit them.
--If you haven't called your Senators to oppose Kavenaugh, please do.(202) 224-3121
- Fitting in my writing around other stuff...fictionalizing an old 'nemesis" at Washington Post.