Disability
Traditional activism as a Disabled* person can be hard.
I've gone to two protests in my lifetime. At the first, I watched from the sidelines and chanted with the marchers because exhaustion and pain demanded I not spend an hour walking. The other saw me leaving quickly because roots I didn't see nearly knocked me off of my scooter while driving to the march itself. Letter writing has gone unread. Sitting in front of important offices hurts too much and can cause arrests, even when peaceful—and sitting in a jail cell may land me in the hospital.
So I find small ways to speak out. May is Ehlers-Danlos Syndromes (EDS) and Hypermobility Spectrum Disorders (HSD) Awareness Month. In 2023, I got the state of Washington to make it official! It's the only certificate that's framed in my house. The hubs convinced me to frame it before I even came down from the high of getting an official piece of paper, even though his master's degree is tucked in a box beside his undergrad degree.
But the way I spend most of my time showing up for my community is by creating. I write essays and stories about the experience of being Disabled, about disability, and about Disabled characters living in the world. I try to show up for us by showcasing our humanity. There isn't much fiction out in the world by Disabled people where disability just is. Crip fic is still fairly new, and adding the horror element I did in Another Elizabeth or the magical realism aspect in Joyce hasn't really been done much. The stories are focused on them as people, the illnesses are simply a part of them. Many of my other stories have Disabled characters that just are in much the same way. Someone being a wheelchair user or having trichotillomania does not define them, after all.
We are not a collection of symptoms. We are not moments of disappointment. We are not broken. We are people with illnesses, syndromes, disorders, undiagnosed nonsense that riddles our bodies and lives with unthinkable complications. There may be pain or fatigue, there may be thoughts that get stuck on repeat or suicidal tendencies, there may be splotches or dry skin, open sores or crooked features, seen or unseen aspects. But it doesn't change us. I am not my chronic illnesses. I am Elizabeth. Just as others are not their chronic illnesses. They have names and lives and hobbies and dreams and fears.
I'm in the process of writing a non-fiction book about Disability, mental health, trauma, and how things show up in the body. I hope that continues the conversation.
I recently created my first art collection based entirely on the Disabled experience. Each piece is a representation of an illness or symptom of one that I have. Much of it is in miniature. It's one of the things I'm most proud of in life. The collection has an interactive experience element to it, meant to put the viewer in the role of a Disabled person as they roam the exhibit. I haven't shown it yet, as I can only apply to places once in a while because of how taxing that is, but it's another way I hope to share, another form of my activism.
I'm also working on a card game about mental health and a deck of inspiration cards. Both will be made by women, and it's pretty exciting to see them come together.
Though my body feels 92, I am not yet 40. I have many years to share, to show up, and to have my voice in the world.
◗ *An informative article on the difference between disability and Disability.
More on my personal disability, activism, as well as ways to responsibly write, read, and interact with disabilities, chronic illnesses and traumas coming soon!
ESSAYS BY ME
◗ Writing With Disabilities on A Million Ways to Be a Writer—May 2024
◗ What My Joints Tell Me on Rooted in Rights Blog: a program of Disability Rights Washington (about my MCAS journey)—August 2023
◗ “Crafts with Anastasia—Author Elle Mitchell Visualizes Her Stories By Creating Miniature Scenes” on Killer Crafts & Crafty Killers—March 2023
◗ “Why I Wrote a Disabled Serial Killer” on Women Writers, Women’s Books (About writing Another Elizabeth) — February 2023
◗ “Sorry, I Can’t” in Issue 10 of 99E—September 2020
