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adventuresofarainbowcrip · 3 years ago

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“It’s so nice to see you up and walking around.” Unintentional ableism at my job as a college professor

Written and posted on Thursday March 10th, 2022

I work at a university, which for now shall remain nameless for privacy reasons. I had an experience last week that has just been on my mind so I thought I would share it here.

On the campus where I work, in the student union building, there is a delicious bagel shop. They make delicious bagels and sandwiches. I know they are LGBTQ+ friendly because I have seen their employees wearing LGBTQ+ pins. And a few years ago, in honor of Pride Month, they had a bagel with rainbow cream cheese. If they do that again, I will definitely buy it, even if it’s mostly for the aesthetic. I love rainbows. A couple of the employees know me and say hi, they were happy for me when I told them I was teaching there now. The point being, these are nice people who do not engage in outward discrimination, at least that I have seen.

Before I continue, I just want to put out a disclaimer that this is of course me reflecting on an experience I had. Different disabled people might see this differently. And I’m reflecting on it, which means that I’m thinking about it more deeply.

One of the employees, I think she must be the manager or something because she seems “in charge” of showing the others how things are done. She looks to be a middle-aged white woman, definitely older than the others. She saw me last week and said, “Hey, was that you walking around last week on campus?” At first I forgot that I had brought my walker to campus, but then I remembered. The previous week I used my walker on campus to attend an event with my new mentor. He and I drove to campus and I used my walker to get around.

When I confirmed that yes, she did in fact see me walking around, she replied, “It was so good to see you up and walking around.” At first, I didn’t really know what to say. It feels funny to me when someone sees me walking for the first time and they are so surprised. I know that I have been able to do this since I was little but they don’t. So they assume that I am always in my scooter. I can’t expect them to know, so I have to explain. Here is where I’d like to remind y’all that AMBULATORY WHEELCHAIR USERS EXIST! I know, I don’t use a wheelchair, but people treat my scooter similarly so I’d consider myself in that category.

This is how I explained it to her. I said, “Yeah, I use my scooter on campus mostly because it takes a lot more energy for me to walk around. It’s either I walk around and don’t have as much energy for my job, or I use my scooter and have more energy to do my job well.” I told her that I’ve been able to do it my whole life. I know that she was trying to give me a compliment, and I’m not trying to discount it, it just made me think. For me, walking around is good exercise and I am very grateful for my level of mobility. It is however, very tiring and not really a sustainable way of getting around every single day. Back when I was an undergrad, I had my scooter break down and had to use my walker on campus for months and it wore me out. Using my scooter allows me to be more independent, be safer and not have a fall risk, and also to change my plans at a moment’s notice. If I’m walking in my walker, I can only go so far. In my scooter, I can go much farther, so if I want to go get a snack after my class, it’s much easier. My scooter allows me so much more freedom.

I recounted the story to my friend Margot who also has CP (we both have spastic diplegic CP and live on opposite sides of the US. We have never met in person but talk every week). She said something about how another reason that kind of comment is ableist is because it’s saying that being able to walk at all is seen is better than if you are always in a chair or scooter. Being ambulatory is seen as better, I guess because it’s closer to being able-bodied. I hadn’t even gotten that far in my head so I’m glad she pointed that out.

This incident also made me think about how when I was younger, my parents and I were trying to decide what the best mobility device would be and we decided on a scooter. A few years later, my moms suggested maybe looking into getting a power chair instead because they are more durable and usually have much better batteries. I’m ashamed to admit that I thought “I would never want a power chair because then I would look more disabled.” I still sort of feel that way, which really sucks and just shows a tiny sliver of my internalized ableism. I know that in reality, whatever mobility devices you use (or don’t) are all important and give people more mobility, freedom and independence. None of them are better or worse than others. They are different and different people have needs for various mobility devices. Some fit people’s needs better than others. I use a walker, a scooter and canes for different things, I’ll talk about that more in another post. Some people use more than one and others only use one mobility device.

I hope you enjoyed this post and I’ll be back soon for another. I’m trying to get more regular with my posting, sorry it’s been a couple of weeks.

#unintentionalableism #ambulatorywheelchairusersexist #internalizedableism #walkingisnotinherentlybetterthanrolling #myscootergivesmefreedom

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scribicronus-v02 · 3 years ago

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Amphibia: Weathering the Storm

Tag list: @karamelys, @popcornbee, @borkthemork, @themissakat, @cute-as-buttons, @maritasdump, @kaseyskat, @amphibias-internalizedableism, @cynthiacoven, @slymanner, @space-lynn, @camomile-t, @calamity-unlocked, @detentiontrack, @skibs-scribbles, @mira-blue, @pyroclastic727, @eeveearoace, @goodartitude, @yourpersonaltimebomb, @marcylore, @honneibun, @arcadiii

Special shoutouts go to Sasha and Mari, as their little brainstorming sesh inspired this fic (I know, Mari, it’s about froggin’ time. Better late than never!).

I should note that there is mention of possible NSFW but it’s in context. There is nothing explicit, just assumptions, generalizations and implications. If anyone reads this and thinks this is too much, just let me know and this will no longer see the light of day.

Without further ado...

Weathering the Storm -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Where is she?”

The shout could be heard all the way from Sasha's room. The female voice snapped her awake and she suddenly felt a dead weight in the pit of her stomach.

“Patricia, quiet down. Sasha's still asleep.” Her father's voice.

“It's ten in the morning, Jesse,” the woman said, not bothering to lower her voice. One of the warm bodies on either side of Sasha stirred. “What in the hell is she doing sleeping in?”

“Patricia, I said to quiet down,” Jesse repeated. “Sasha just came back from out of town with the girls and is probably still resting.”

“What girls?”

“Her friends,” he replied tightly. “Anne and Marcy?”

“Oh, those two,” she remarked dismissively. “Wait. You didn't go with them?”

“No, Patricia, I didn't. I do know where they've been and what they've been up to. The three of them tell me whenever they need to go out of town.”

“And you trust them, Jesse? They're sixteen, they're probably lying through their teeth about where they go.” The sound of rushed footsteps followed the woman's voice just as Marcy groggily opened her eyes and Anne was rubbing hers.

“She's probably spent the entire night partying with some college boys and got herself drunk and drugged.”

“Patricia, stop,” Jesse said, his voice harsh.

“Don't you dare touch me, you son of a bitch!”

“Sasha...?” Marcy's tired voice asked.

The bedroom door flew open and a blonde woman in a tan long-sleeve shirt and black slacks stormed in, Jesse Waybright half a step behind.

“Sasha?”

“...Mom?”

*-----*-----*-----*-----*

“What in the hell kind of a household are you raising our daughter in?”

Jesse Waybright ran a hand through his hair. “One where I'm trying to be a good father, Patricia.”

“Well, if our daughter is in bed with two girls, you're obviously not doing a good job.”

“I think I've done a damn fine job, Patricia,” Jesse spat. “Sure, there've been a few small trip-ups along the way but—”

“Trip-ups?” the slightly shorter blonde asked. “I just saw my daughter in her bedroom with two other girls, all three of which were asleep side by side in the same bed.” She poked Jesse's chest with a finger. “Not only that, but I also saw that she has scars on her face and one glass eye. How in the goddamned hell do you consider that a small trip-up?”

“That was out of my power,” Jesse retorted.

“Fuck you that wasn't out of your power!” Patricia roared. “How does a sixteen year old girl manage to get a glass eye?”

Jesse batted her hand away. “Patricia, you need to stop. There are things going on that you won't understand...”

“Stop beating around the goddamned bush, Jesse Waybright!” the woman shouted. “If you don't explain to me how the hell my daughter got a glass eye...”

“Mom!”

Jesse and Patricia turned to see Sasha, clad in an oversized blue shirt and black track pants. Anne and Marcy flanked her, the former in a worn yellow t-shirt and purple pajama pants, the latter in forest green pajama pants and a seafoam green t-shirt. Marcy was leaning slightly on a cane with the head in the shape of a sparrow.

“Sash...” Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose then cursed under his breath.

The blonde woman crossed her arms as she leaned back on the kitchen island. “Anne and Marcy, what were you two doing in bed with Sasha?”

“Uhh, sleeping?” Anne deadpanned.

Patricia raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

“Mom, stop.”

“I'm asking them a question, Sasha.”

“And I'm asking you to stop questioning them,” she shot back.

“And why is that, Sasha? Is it because you have something to hide?”

“No,” she snapped, “it's because you're disrespecting my privacy as well as theirs.”

The woman's eyes went wide. “Disrespecting your...” She turned to her ex-husband. “What are you teaching her?”

“Patricia, she's sixteen. I'm letting her have some semblance of control in this house.”

“'Semblance of control'?” she asked incredulously. “Is she running your house?”

“No, but she's my daughter,” Jesse snapped. “I trust her to come to me if she needs any type of help.”

“You're speaking as if she's already an adult.”

“And you're treating her like she doesn't know any better!”

Patricia turned to face her daughter. “Do you smoke?”

Sasha shook her head without breaking eye contact. “No.”

“Drink?”

“No.”

“Do drugs?”

“No.”

“Are you having sex?”

Sasha's face lit up like a stoplight. “No, but...”

“But...?”

“Patricia!”

She raised an open hand in Jesse's direction. “Shut up,” she snapped without looking at him. “But what, Sasha?”

At that, Sasha looked away and started rubbing her arm nervously. “I've...I've started having those kinds of feelings...”

Anne and Marcy suddenly blushed just as brightly. The blonde woman didn't notice.

“Have you now?” She crossed her arms again. “Is there anyone I should know about?”

“Patricia...”

She whirled to face him. “Jesse, I'm talking to my daughter.”

“No, you're not talking to her, you're interrogating her!”

“I'm her mother,” she said through clenched teeth. “I have a goddamn right to know what is going on with my daughter.”

“Then where were you whenever my birthday rolled around?” Sasha demanded suddenly. “What about when I graduated from middle school?” Tears started beading at the corners of her eyes. “What about when I was in the hospital after the three of us returned from Amphibia?”

Patricia frowned. “What's Amphibia?”

“You don't even know about that!” Sasha said, voice raised.

“That's my fault,” Jesse cut in. “When the three of you were in the hospital, Patricia did indeed come. She demanded to know what happened to you, to see you. There was a federal agent that told her that what the three of you went through was classified. The only reason I was allowed to come see you at all was because I had custody of you.” He shot his daughter a weak smile. “I never did explain to you how I got that black eye when you first saw me, and you never brought it up again.”

“I thought that was Melissa,” Sasha gasped.

“No,” he said with a chuckle. “Melissa's a lawyer. She'd hit me with a lawsuit, not with her fist.” He eyed Patricia. “Your mother, on the other hand...”

“What's Amphibia?” Patricia repeated.

“Amphibia is another world where the three of us went to when we first disappeared,” Anne piped up. “We were there for five months before I managed to make it back home. I had to go back and rescue Sasha and Marcy.”

“That was where I lost my eye,” Sasha replied slowly. “Being there is also why Marcy walks with a cane, and why Anne has prosthetics.” Anne stepped up beside Sasha, and Patricia's eyes widened at the robotic arm and foot.

“And who was responsible for sending you there?”

“All three of us were responsible,” Sasha answered a little too quickly. “That's all you need to know.”

Patricia frowned. “Oh?” She crossed her arms again. “Why is that?”

“Because all three of us share the blame, Mom. There was no one who held more blame than the other.”

“Wait.” She looked at Anne. “You sent me that letter, didn't you? You were the 'friend' that told me that Sasha was trapped in another world, weren't you?”

Anne nodded.

“How did you manage to get back here?”

“Patricia, stop. Now.”

The blonde whirled to face Jesse, while Anne and Sasha turned to Marcy, who went deathly pale.

“Why, Jesse? Tell me why I need to stop trying to find out what happened to my daughter and her friends.”

“Because what they went through was goddamned traumatic!” Jesse said. He glanced at the girls. “I don't remember all the details but they do! What happened to them during those months was seared into their memories! They still have nightmares about it! Don't you see that forcing them to talk about it is hurting them?”

That stopped Patricia short. She turned to look at the girls, who were holding each other tightly. Marcy was already crying, a hand clutching at her chest, and Anne and Sasha were gently shushing and comforting her.

“They go back to Amphibia on a regular basis,” Jesse continued. “That is where they go when I say that they're out of town.”

“If it's so traumatic for them, why do they go back?”

“They have families,” Jesse replied. “All three of them were pretty much adopted by different people while they were stranded there. Aside from that, they have responsibilities in Amphibia, too.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn't like it at first but after visiting there with them a few times, I realized that it couldn't be helped. Anne's parents have visited too, and they've accepted that Anne is needed in Amphibia as well.”

“What about Christopher and Candace?”

Jesse's face darkened. “We don't talk about them. They're no longer in the picture.”

“What?”

“Christopher had to move to Colorado while the girls were missing,” Jesse answered. “He'd already given up on Marcy being found. When the girls did come back, he and Candace came to L.A. to see Marcy but they tried to take her back with them.”

“And they couldn't?”

“No, not without uprooting us and the Boonchuys as well.” He shook his head. “Me, Theresa, Arthit and Christopher had one mother of an argument about it. In the end, he and Candace left without Marcy. She's staying with Anne's family.”

“And do your parents know that the three of you sleep in the same bed whenever you sleep over?”

“Mom!”

“I'm asking her a question, Sasha,” Patricia said, not taking her eyes off the Thai girl.

“Yes, actually, they do,” Anne replied matter-of-factly.

“Mom, that's enough,” Sasha cut in. “You don't understand the kind of things that Anne, Marcy and I went through.”

“Then help me to understand, Sasha,” Patricia pleaded.

Sasha looked down at the floor and took a deep breath. “If you really must know, Mom, Marcy, Anne and I are in a relationship. They're both my girlfriends and I'm their girlfriend.” She lifted her head up to look her mother in the eye. “We've been friends since we were little, and what happened in Amphibia...” She sniffled as she wiped a tear from the right side of her face. “It made us see how much we really mean to each other.” She looked at Anne then to Marcy, both of whom wore weak smiles along with their puffy eyes. “We've grown a lot, sometimes I think we grew too much.” She turned back to her mother. “What's important is that the three of us are together, we're a lot more honest with each other, and we really do love each other.”

For a while, Patricia said nothing. Sasha did notice that her mother's lips were pressed into a tight line and she gripped her upper arms tightly.

“Mom...”

Patricia shook her head. “No,” she said simply. “No, this is...” She laid her hands flat at her sides. “This is wrong, this is completely wrong!” She began to pace between the kitchen island and the fridge. “Being a lesbian is fine, whatever, but dating two people at once?” Her gaze flitted between Anne and Marcy a few times before she shook her head again a little more frantically. “No, just...no.”

“Mom...”

“Sasha, stop.” She raised an open palm to forestall any argument. “Right now, I'm finding it very hard to accept that the three of you are dating and that the three of you were 'just sleeping' in your room behind closed doors.”

“I'm your daughter, Mom,” Sasha pleaded. “Aren't you supposed to trust me?”

“Trust is earned, Sasha,” Patricia snapped, “and quite frankly, you've demonstrated very little to earn that trust.”

“Coming out to you and revealing that Anne, Marcy and I are dating doesn't earn that trust?”

“You said yourself that you've been having questionable thoughts,” Patricia said, “and now that I know that it involves three of you...” She shook her head vehemently. “No. No, this is not what I wanted for you.”

“Patricia, that's...”

The blonde immediately rounded on him. “You shut up, Jesse! Just because you lived that type of lifestyle before doesn't mean Sasha has to follow in your goddamn footsteps!”

Everyone's eyes went wide. “Dad...?”

Jesse blinked slowly and shook his head. “Patricia, you need to stop, right now.” He took a shuddered breath. “Sasha knows nothing of my younger years, and she's too young to know.” He shot Patricia a withering glare. “Maybe if she remembers this...incident...when she's older and she asks me about it, I might tell her. Regardless, the life I led before I married you isn't what's on topic here.”

He gestured to the three girls with an open hand. “I have tried my damnedest to make sure that Sasha grows up in a caring environment. Sure, I've made mistakes, I'll openly admit to that. I know I'm not perfect. Theresa and Arthit have helped me so much through the years. Sasha's friendship, and now relationship, with Anne and Marcy has brought our families closer together. Now more than ever the girls need our love, support, and acceptance.” He walked past his ex-wife to the three teenagers and stood behind them, his hands on Sasha's shoulders. “You need to accept that this is her life now, their life. You need to support their decisions. It wasn't hard for me to accept the girls' situation. Even though you haven't been around, you have to do the same.”

Sasha stepped forward. “Mom, if you can't accept this then you need to leave.”

Patricia's eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

“I said that if you can't accept that I'm in love with Anne and Marcy, and that they love me and each other, then you need to leave.”

“Love?” She snorted and stared down at her daughter. “And what would you know about love, Sasha? You're only sixteen. Love at your age is skipping class to make out with your boyfriend behind the bleachers at school and have their hand up your skirt.” She glanced past Sasha briefly. “Or in your case, girlfriend.”

“I know what love is, Mom,” Sasha retorted despite the blush on her face. “Love is acceptance of both your strengths and your flaws. Love is patience. Love is trust, honesty, openness.” Tears streaked down her cheeks. “And I'm not feeling a lot of it from you right now.”

The taller blonde worried her lips slowly. “Sasha, I can accept that you're a lesbian. Hell, I can accept that you're dating a girl you've known since you were a little child.” She pointed past her daughter. “But what I cannot accept is you dating two people at once, and your father just sitting back and letting the three of you get up to who knows what behind closed doors.”

“I've already said—”

“No, Sasha,” Patricia cut in. “I haven't seen you enough to trust you at your word.”

“And who's at fault for that?”

“Your father,” she snapped acidly. “I should have won custody of you all those years ago, Sasha! I should be living in a house like this with you while your father lives in a one-bedroom apartment stewing in his own self-loathing. I should have been the one to raise you while your father has to jump through hoops just to get a glimpse of you!”

“Patricia...”

“No, Jesse. This ends here. Sasha, I am going to tell you this once: Pick. One. Your father can drive the other home.

“End. Of. Discussion.”

Sasha stared slack-jawed at her mother as if she'd taken a hit from Barrel's Warhammer right in the solar plexus. She slowly sank to her knees, her arms limp at her sides. She barely felt Anne and Marcy wrapping their arms around her, she could only hear her mother's words echoing in her ears.

End. Of. Discussion.

“Sasha...?”

“Step away from my daughter, you two,” Patricia suddenly demanded, practically stomping towards the four of them. “She has to make this decision on her own, without either of your influence.”

“Patricia...”

“You shut up.” Without hesitation she grabbed Sasha by the upper arm and yanked her to her feet. “Now, Sasha, I said—”

She wrenched her arm out of her mother's firm grip.

“I've already made my decision, Mother.” She locked eyes with the blonde woman, and Patricia could have sworn she saw a flash of pink in her daughter's glass eye and a flash of blue in her good one. “You need to leave. Right now.”

“Excuse me?”

“There is no choice between Anne and Marcy,” Sasha answered, her voice low and threatening. “And quite frankly, with you, there's no choice either way.” She stepped right up to the blonde woman. “I grew up thinking that you loved me, that what you said and did was for my own good.”

“It was—”

“Bullshit,” Sasha spat. “I can see now that it's your way or the highway, that what you were really doing was railroading me, blinkering me from your toxicity.” She pointed behind her to the other two girls. “Before Amphibia, did you know that I was emulating you? I was copying your mannerisms, your toxic behavior! I treated Anne and Marcy like they were beneath me, like they didn't know any better! It took me almost losing everything to realize that what I learned from you was not how friends act! And when I mean everything, I mean everything! I would have been stuck in Amphibia, Anne and Marcy could have died, and I could have lost so much more than just my fucking eye!

“It took Anne disappearing and Marcy getting fatally injured to make me see what I've been doing wrong all these years, that I shouldn't have been treating others like mud from my boots. People have feelings, Mother, and I was disregarding the feelings of the people closest to me.”

Sasha paused, her body heaving with every deep breath.

“Are you done?” Patricia asked, nonplussed.

“Yes,” Sasha answered, her voice clipped, “and so are you.”

“What?”

“Get out of my house,” Sasha barked, tears in her eyes. “If you're going to keep going the way you are right now, I don't want you involved in any part of my life.”

“Don't you take that tone with me—”

“You heard me, Mother!” Sasha thundered, anger and sadness melding in her voice. “If you don't leave right this minute, I'll show you how a Captain of a Toad army and a Hero of the Heron Incursion deals with insubordination!”

Sasha felt hands on each of her shoulders. She looked to her left to see Anne shaking her head sadly.

“I suspect the four of you haven't had breakfast yet?”

All eyes flew to the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Melissa Albrecht was leaning on the doorway, a hand on her lower back and carrying a noticeable baby bump.

“Melissa!”

“Mom!”

“Miss Waybright, did my husband let you into his residence?” Melissa's eyes never broke contact with Patricia's.

“Of course he did!”

She pursed her lips and raised a brow. “Did he explicitly say you could come in, or did you just shoulder past him into the house?” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “This house is under government surveillance twenty-four-seven. I can call our contact with the FBI and have them pull the video. If Jesse did not clearly say you could enter, that could certainly qualify as grounds for trespassing.”

Patricia glowered but didn't retort.

“Mother, I'm telling you one more time: Get out of my house. I don't want to talk to you ever again unless the first thing to come out of your lips is an apology.��

“Sasha—”

“Get. Out.”

Patricia balled her hands into fists but said nothing. She stormed past Melissa and out the front door, slamming it closed with enough force to knock down a picture frame hanging beside the door.

At the sound of shattering glass, Sasha fell to all fours, crying. Anne and Marcy were immediately at either side of her, a hand on her back and another on her shoulder.

“It's okay, Sasha,” Anne whispered, “it's okay.”

Marcy reached over and pulled Sasha into an embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Sasha returned the hug, holding Marcy tight. “Thank you,” she sobbed in return. “Thank you for being there for me.” She turned and Marcy let go so the blonde could hug Anne. “You too, Anne. Thank you so much.”

“Hey, you okay?”

Jesse looked up to see his fiancée, worry in her eyes. “Hmm?”

“I asked if you were okay,” she repeated. “I'll take that as a 'no'.”

Jesse shook his head. “Sorry, Mel. I wasn't expecting Patricia to show up out of the blue.”

“I'm surprised that the G-men didn't show,” Melissa said with a chuckle. “The second I saw that blue Grand Vitara I had a feeling there was going to be trouble.”

Jesse shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Christ,” he muttered.

“Hey, chin up, babe.” Mel took one of his hands and put it to her belly. “Your boy's telling you to cheer up.”

Jesse chuckled.

“Hey, Daddy, it's your son,” Melissa announced, putting on a childish voice, “I know that you had to deal with your ex-wife but me and Mama and my half-sister and her girlfriends are all hungry! And Sasha deserves a really big and super-special breakfast after standing up for herself and her friends to that crazy bi—”

“Okay, okay!” Jesse laughed. He looked over to the three girls, the three of them smiling weakly, Sasha with tears still in her eyes. “You girls go get dressed, I'll call Thai Go and see if Theresa can't whip us up some brunch.”

“I'll call,” Anne countered. “I'll ask Mom to make something extra special for Sash.” She kissed her blonde girlfriend on the cheek. “You deserve it, Sasha.”

Sasha blushed as tears streaked down her cheeks. “Stop,” she said, “I already have you two. You guys make me feel special.” The three girls slowly got to their feet. As they left the kitchen, Sasha hesitated.

“Dad, what did Mother mean exactly when she said that I'm following in your footsteps?”

Jesse paled. “Sasha, you're too young to know the details,” he replied a little too quickly. “All you need to know is that I was in a polycule myself when I was in college.”

“That doesn't...”

“Like I told your mother, if you really want to know, wait a couple of years.” He shook his head. “I promise I'll be honest but you'd better be sure you really want to get to know your dad.”

Sasha cringed. “You know what? I don't want to know.” She stepped out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Jesse slumped his shoulders in relief as he ran a hand over his face. “Jeez. It was bad enough I had to deal with Patricia this morning, now I have to find a way to give the girls 'the Talk', and on top of that I have my college years to discuss with my daughter to look forward to when she's nineteen.”

Melissa chuckled. “Talk with Theresa and Arthit about it. They're probably dreading 'the Talk' just as much as you are.” She pulled Jesse into a languid embrace and kissed him. “And don't worry about your younger years. If she really wants to know, you warned her.” She smiled and patted his chest. “Now go and get dressed. I'll drive once we're all ready.”

#scribi writes #amphibia #amphibia fic #amphibia au #sashannarcy

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