Understanding Extroversion

My daughter was three years old when she got her first wheelchair. To that point, she had used a stroller provided by a wheelchair company, so NOT a regular stroller; it had appropriate therapeutic seating to encourage her ability to sit, and hydraulic wheels to absorb shocks, and a seat back that reclined completely for... Continue Reading →

Fuck You, OI

A friend of mine died tonight. He was in his late twenties, a wicked-smart and passionate man with more compassion and understanding than most people I've met. We talked a couple of times a week, usually about politics, because this election has been driving us both insane. To offset this, we'd taken to sending each... Continue Reading →

End of the Roll

The last four posts were written in response to historical criticism and questions I have fielded as a mom of a person with a disability. Not everyone who observes our situation weighs in with criticism, but enough have done so over the years to make me reflexively defend my actions to potential naysayers. From her well-intentioned classmates... Continue Reading →

Frame by Frame

When I talk about my daughter having a disability, I get a lot of sad faces, murmurs of morose sympathy, and sorrowful eyes averted, so as not to look directly at the reality of being disabled. It's the last one that I wish I could fix. I don't care if people have pity, and I would... Continue Reading →

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