Antony John Walker

Vortex.

Crepuscular.

Vulpine.

Bubblegum.

One.

It’s true that my disability is a burden to me sometimes, but not in a way most people would think. I think people assume that I would want to be cured so that I could walk or drive or do things like that. But really the biggest hurdle to me is the social stigma surrounding disability. People only pay attention to people with disabilities if they can use them as inspiration, porn, or as cute little sidekicks to boost their ego, but as soon as they get bored they just kind of cast us aside and move on. I wish that people wouldn’t patronize me, I wish that people would be attracted to me, or not act like they deserve a special place for being attracted to me. I wish that they would take me as seriously as an adult, because I’m 24 years old and people still talk to me like I’m a small child. 

It’s not so much that I want to be able-bodied, but I would kill to just have 10 minutes to not be perceived as disabled. Just 10 minutes. Because sometimes it really does wear you down and it is really upsetting. You can’t just pick and choose which parts of someone are salvageable and make a new person out of that because that’s just not how life works. My disability has influenced every other aspect of my identity. So, if you reject my disability you reject every other part of me. 

I feel like the issue at the crux of that whole cure question is “Would you rather exchange your disability if you could have a wholeness of your humanity instead?” but I would counter that my disability is my humanity. Just because someone is disabled that doesn’t automatically mean that their quality of life must be inherently less than an able-bodied person. I have more strength and wisdom and experience in my pinky finger than most able-bodied people do in their entire body.