Intersections. THEY MATTER
(link in title)
Longtime readers know a bit about my brother…that he is the older of my two older siblings and he has autism. He is aphasic, and he makes loud funky noises…he gets excited when he likes a song and he twirls and dances. He looks “normal”…a lot younger than his 43 years, but still “normal” in presentation if not behavior.
So, I know that his behavior could get him beat up or shot.
He likes to look in car windows.
He doesn’t understand “the rules.”
He likes people…and the smell of freshly washed hair or French fries on someone’s plate.
We work on it with him…we watch him closely.
Because we live in a country where black men get shot and killed for seeking help after a car accident…or refusing to turn down music…or walking home after going to the corner store.
This is why you still benefit from white privilege if you are autistic. This is why we need to talk about it. It matters. Seriously.
I am having thoughts
I’m reblogging from Disability and Representation again (click on the title to see her post). Her blog frequently makes me think.
She makes a lot of good points here about homelessness, poverty, accessibility, and systemic problems.
However, the thing that I keep thinking about is what she’s doing. She’s written about it before and I’ve thought about it before, and I find I keep thinking about it more and more and more.
She, she has this thing where she makes simple bag lunches – a sandwich, a fruit, some cookies – and then goes around her city giving them to hungry people who maybe otherwise wouldn’t get a meal. It’s such a small thing but also such a huge thing and I find I want to do it too.
Only I don’t know Philadelphia all that well (at all, really). And I doubt I would feel safe. And transporting lunches from where I live down to the city would be possible, but logistically tricky. But I could do it with a partner! If I could find a partner.
So yeah. It’s on my mind. I want to do this. I can’t do big, impressive things but surely I can find a way to do small things.