Inconvenient Bodies

My body is inconvenient.

When I’m moving house they say: only flats with stairs available. You want more accessible? Wait longer; pay more; move elsewhere. I scour the tube map – I can get on here but I can’t get off here so I’ll have to get the bus here and do these uncomfortable bounces around London to get where I need to be… And then I get to the meeting and they say, oh, sorry, it’s hard to find a pub without stairs – can you just do a few? My body doesn’t fit the London world.

In the ‘academic careers’ session they say: Be ready to go anywhere in the world, at short notice, for any job. I look down at my weak, dislocation-prone, support-requiring body. I think about the disability systems that I would need to fight my way into, in every new country (or even new city) I went to – social care services and work support and funding. I think about the adjustments that universities would need to make for me. I remember the stories of disabled academics working in cold huts on the edge of campus because their departments’ offices are inaccessible. My body doesn’t fit the academic world.

When I’m attending autism conferences they say: Yes of course we’re accessible. But… they’re not. I cram my body into narrow hallways, am shoved around by crowds, run over people’s feet. I worry about old buildings and wonder whether I should risk my physical health for the benefit of neurodiversity support. I get stressed. I have meltdowns. My body doesn’t even fit the neurodiversity world.

So I choose. Miss out on life entirely — or fit myself to their worlds, contorting and twisting and breaking my body to fit the spaces where normalcy reigns?

Lately I’m thinking and writing about the embodiment of disability discrimination. I don’t think it gets written about enough. Disability discrimination does not exist in an interpersonal vacuum. It oppresses the body, and/or the mind. Often, it’s not a case of “You can’t come in,” but more a case of “Come in, if you can twist your body and mind into our shapes.” The square peg squeezes into the round hole… and it’s never quite the same shape afterwards. My body is inconvenient — but in the end, to save them discomfort, I allow the the inconvenience to become mine. And the pain, and the physical harm, and the long-term effects on my health (physical and mental). The embodiment of the oppression.

Disabled readers: How do discrimination, disablism, inaccessibility and exclusion affect your body and mind?

 

Fighting to Protect University Mental Health/Counselling Services

I have an article up at the PhDisabled blog, about the media debate currently going over student mental health services in the UK and how they are overstretched and underfunded.

Disabled PhD students are dealing with a lot at the moment. Apart from the ongoing academic disablism that we always face (see the #academicableism feed for many, many examples), there are specific situations dragging us down during this age of austerity. Student Finance England is finding ways to delay and turn down students’ applications for Disabled Students’ Allowance. (Anecdotal evidence includes my own fight to get it back – evidence of my disability that was always accepted in the past, has this year been refused. Talking to others, it seems that I’m absolutely not the only one.) Tuition fees are rising, which further excludes already-excluded disabled students, since disabled people are among the poorest people in society and are only getting poorer under the current government regime. And now there’s a crisis in the funding of mental health and counselling services based in universities.

The protection of our services at universities is a priority in these days of increasing exclusion – especially mental health/counselling services. Not all students with mental health problems would consider themselves disabled, but many would. As I say in the article, UCAS evidence suggests that increasing numbers of people with long-term mental health problems are applying to university in recent years. Meanwhile, non-disabled and disabled students alike deal with the mental health difficulties that can arise from stress at university. And disabled students face a whole lot of stress.

That’s why I’m arguing here that we need to talk about mental health services at universities and how they are under-funded. Unlike some university representatives, who apparently would rather we didn’t.

Cross-posted to Uncovering the Roof

Derailing

I wanted my first proper ‘return’ post to be about something meaningful. The way Asperger’s has been (possibly incorrectly) related to the shooting in California, and what that says about the Othering of neurodivergent people, for example. Or the cuts to Disabled Students’ Allowance which are going to further exclude a group of students who are already extremely marginalized in academia. And hopefully I’ll come back to each of those topics. Continue reading