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Disability and sexuality follow-up.
Thanks to everyone who contributed to the discussion about disability and sexuality, and how I could present those issues to my OWL class.
I went with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
echosupernova's suggestion and came up with several short readings to replace the long, creepy one. We'll have a different kid read each quote, and then we'll have some general discussion and the Values Voting to complete the disability half of the evening's entertainment.
The readings I found are below the cut, in case anyone's interested. I gleaned these from various sources online, editing them down from longer essays. I wouldn't normally devote this much time to readings in an OWL session, but I think it's important to have diverse examples.
1. In my experience, the best time to tell a guy that I'm disabled is on the first date. One common response is the, "You’re so courageous," speech: "Wow! It must take tremendous courage to fight on in the face of adversity. You’re an saint to be that strong." Being treated as an icon may seem wonderful at first, but it’s not so great when he realizes I’m not a saint.
[But sometimes] there is "Oh." This one is the "keeper." He’s not feeling sorry for me. He’s not putting me on a pedestal. He doesn’t see me as a patient. The disability isn’t an issue for him. He’s dating me because I am an unique soul. Unfortunately, the reaction is almost unique too. Although it doesn’t happen often, when it does it’s pure magic.
2. Recently I have broken a cardinal rule, done something so subversive that I feel the shockwaves ripple around me everywhere I go. I have become pregnant. By choice. My doctors couldn't give me a great deal of reassurance about what a pregnancy might mean for me. Not a single case study was to be found. Apparently, if anyone like me has ever been pregnant, it wasn't written up in the journals. Ultimately, my husband and I decided that pregnancy is a leap of faith for any couple -- and we would take that leap.
As soon as my pregnant belly began to be obvious, balanced atop my spindly braced legs like an olive on a toothpick, the stares from strangers increased, both in number and in hostility. They telegraph their messages clearly: "I didn't think that kind had sex!" and "Good God, is she bringing another one like her into the world?"
3. The person attracted to someone with a disability automatically gets labeled as having a fetish and his or her motives are called into question. The partner with the disability is assumed unattractive, suggesting one must be imbalanced to be attracted to us. But there are things my wife finds sexy about me related to my disability. For example, there's an indent in my hip where they took bone out for an anterior fusion in my neck, and my wife likes to feel it. I also have a wide scar on my abdomen from some surgery. It's very smooth and she traces it with her finger. My fingers are contracted and when we were first courting she used to almost unconsciously stretch them out and massage them as we talked. Sexy doesn't have to be just physical. It could be the way you relate.
4. When I was able to walk with crutches and to drive, meeting new people was not a problem. But now my wheelchair scares guys away. Since I can no longer drive I can’t get to places where gay men congregate, and even if I wanted to go to bars most of them are inaccessible.
If a gay angel joined me in bed, I would be at a loss for how to take advantage of the opportunity because there is not enough of me that works. If that person for me is out there, as people claim, he is going to have to find me and he’s going to have to be Mother Theresa's little brother.
5. I had one very weird experience quite by accident. A friend put me up on a bar stool because my wheelchair had a flat and he needed to take it to get air. Even though I have foreshortened legs, I never hem the pant legs, so they were dangling under the bar. I had to cross my arms on the bar for support, thereby hiding my hands. I was surprised, and later bemused, by the way people talked to me when they didn't realize I was disabled. That's as close as I have ever come to "passing.” Most startling was what happened when I transferred back to my chair. Voices changed pitch, got just a little higher, as if people were talking to a child.
I went with
echosupernova's suggestion and came up with several short readings to replace the long, creepy one. We'll have a different kid read each quote, and then we'll have some general discussion and the Values Voting to complete the disability half of the evening's entertainment.The readings I found are below the cut, in case anyone's interested. I gleaned these from various sources online, editing them down from longer essays. I wouldn't normally devote this much time to readings in an OWL session, but I think it's important to have diverse examples.
1. In my experience, the best time to tell a guy that I'm disabled is on the first date. One common response is the, "You’re so courageous," speech: "Wow! It must take tremendous courage to fight on in the face of adversity. You’re an saint to be that strong." Being treated as an icon may seem wonderful at first, but it’s not so great when he realizes I’m not a saint.
[But sometimes] there is "Oh." This one is the "keeper." He’s not feeling sorry for me. He’s not putting me on a pedestal. He doesn’t see me as a patient. The disability isn’t an issue for him. He’s dating me because I am an unique soul. Unfortunately, the reaction is almost unique too. Although it doesn’t happen often, when it does it’s pure magic.
2. Recently I have broken a cardinal rule, done something so subversive that I feel the shockwaves ripple around me everywhere I go. I have become pregnant. By choice. My doctors couldn't give me a great deal of reassurance about what a pregnancy might mean for me. Not a single case study was to be found. Apparently, if anyone like me has ever been pregnant, it wasn't written up in the journals. Ultimately, my husband and I decided that pregnancy is a leap of faith for any couple -- and we would take that leap.
As soon as my pregnant belly began to be obvious, balanced atop my spindly braced legs like an olive on a toothpick, the stares from strangers increased, both in number and in hostility. They telegraph their messages clearly: "I didn't think that kind had sex!" and "Good God, is she bringing another one like her into the world?"
3. The person attracted to someone with a disability automatically gets labeled as having a fetish and his or her motives are called into question. The partner with the disability is assumed unattractive, suggesting one must be imbalanced to be attracted to us. But there are things my wife finds sexy about me related to my disability. For example, there's an indent in my hip where they took bone out for an anterior fusion in my neck, and my wife likes to feel it. I also have a wide scar on my abdomen from some surgery. It's very smooth and she traces it with her finger. My fingers are contracted and when we were first courting she used to almost unconsciously stretch them out and massage them as we talked. Sexy doesn't have to be just physical. It could be the way you relate.
4. When I was able to walk with crutches and to drive, meeting new people was not a problem. But now my wheelchair scares guys away. Since I can no longer drive I can’t get to places where gay men congregate, and even if I wanted to go to bars most of them are inaccessible.
If a gay angel joined me in bed, I would be at a loss for how to take advantage of the opportunity because there is not enough of me that works. If that person for me is out there, as people claim, he is going to have to find me and he’s going to have to be Mother Theresa's little brother.
5. I had one very weird experience quite by accident. A friend put me up on a bar stool because my wheelchair had a flat and he needed to take it to get air. Even though I have foreshortened legs, I never hem the pant legs, so they were dangling under the bar. I had to cross my arms on the bar for support, thereby hiding my hands. I was surprised, and later bemused, by the way people talked to me when they didn't realize I was disabled. That's as close as I have ever come to "passing.” Most startling was what happened when I transferred back to my chair. Voices changed pitch, got just a little higher, as if people were talking to a child.