PhilosopherCrip

Recently, my friend Annie passed away at the age of 24.  Some of you may know Annie, as she was a crip in Chicago who was a regular face at the Pride Parade selling her 3eLove Tshirts.  The name of this small business was itself a moral imperative issued by Annie’s basic philosophy of life, “Embrace diversity. Educate your community. Empower each other. Love life.”  3eLove was one of Annie’s many projects.  I don’t think anyone knew the details of all the work she did in the crip community and, surely, only Annie’s mind contained the seeds of the work she planned to do.  It’s my understanding that some of those plans included “beginning her PhD coursework in Community Health, suing the hell out of the state of Illinois for all of the misery that they put her through over P.A. hours, helping me [her brother, Stephen] write a disability education model and marketing it to school districts, writing a book, going on Oprah, and then going on a national ass-kicking tour.”  Those were just her plans for the year 2009 and, knowing Annie, they weren’t that exaggerated. To get a sense of the circumstances of Annie’s passing, check out the facebook note her brother wrote about those series of events.  That is not my story to tell.

Knowing Annie as a person and as an advocate (I don’t like the term, but it’s one she used to describe herself), there seemed to be a unity to her work.  That unity was a radical pride and active rejection of the stigma and shame that society heaps upon crips.

Let me back track a bit.  We are told that the kinds of help we need is not “normal” and that our way of living is one that should happen in isolation.  Even still, this isolation is enforced with the coerced segregation of people with disabilities into nursing homes and institutions.  We are seen as the Other and told that having “pride” means hiding anything about us that deviates from the cultural norms.  Even some of my most powerful activist friends struggle with shame at some of the ways their life is different from the typical.  They want to hide the markings and symbols of their difference because that is what we are told “prideful” people do… they try to normalize and assimilate as much as possible.  I know I have been guilty of this as well throughout my life.

The beautiful, inspirational Anne Marie Hopkins, 1984-2009

This definition of pride is what Annie made an active attempt to completely and utterly demolish.  The insight that Annie taught me is that crip pride is not about banners and marches and t-shirts and policy papers.  Crip pride is as simple to understand as it is morally grueling to achieve — we must live visibly on our own terms, as we are, without apology or shame.  This is what Annie achieved in a way that I have never before witnessed, but hope to witness again in others among our community.

To understand what I am talking about, take a sample of how she lived her life as a crip publicly and without shame by checking out her blog, “Annie D and the Band of Love.”  Some instances of her truly radical pride would be her description of her newly hired personal assistant who, allegedly, dreams of becoming a porn star, “I’m sure wiping ass and hanging out with me will only add to Jame’s qualifications as a cockstar. He is quite pleasant to look at which helps with my well being, porn star or not” … or her cat “For some reason, every cat I have own has always loved to chill in my wheelchair. It always has to be at a very bad time, like when my PAs are trying to move me from my bed to my chair or from the toilet to the chair. He’s always gotta be there. He’s an attention whore I guess” … or her roommate/PA who she keeps around “because he can entertain himself, but we also spend a lot of time together eating, recreating, getting awesome, watching instant netflix, completing our studies, dancing around the apartment, traveling, pooping, urinating, and farting, dog walking, smelling like onions, holding down facilities at UIC, reading and listening to audiobooks.”  Unfortunately, her blog was a relatively new project and so there aren’t as many postings as I wish there were.  I wish Annie had had more time to teach us how to live well.

Annie’s way of living seems to really come up against the “supercrip” narrative in some interesting ways.  The supercrip phenomenon is one of the common possible responses our American culture offers in public interaction.  That is, many times, both strangers and friends will go out of there way to tell a person with a disability how “inspirational” or “amazing” they are, as they go about their daily routine.  Of course, the unspoken premise behind this is a very low set of expectations for people with disabilities more broadly.  “Wow!  Look at that! You go out to eat at restaurants on the weekends and sometimes see a movie!”  The harm of the supercrip narrative is that, by setting up everyday activities as “amazing,” it obscures the idea that people with disabilities SHOULD be doing these everyday things as an accepted and integrated part of the community.  That is, its foundation is the notion that disability itself is something that is overcome rather than social and environmental barriers.  Put another way, the problem with the supercrip narrative is that it implies that the disabled life is, fundamentally, of less value.  The only way average, everyday activities can be seen as amazing and inspirational is if that person is starting off from a very dismal place.  Supercrips are seen as the exception to the rule of disability misery.

Professor Charles Xavier -- some crips really DO have super powers!!!

So, what then, are we to make of Annie’s celebration of everyday life?  If we understand her as inspirational or amazing, are we just dressing up the supercrip narrative in new clothes?  I really don’t think that is the case.  In fact, I think what Annie was doing was dismantling some of those hidden premises to the supercrip narrative.  By rejecting the shame in having her butt wiped and living pridefully, Annie was rejecting the notion that disability is something you “overcome.”  For Annie, her disability was part of her joy in living.  She unapologetically displayed how she had a good life not DESPITE her disability but WITH her disability.  If we could all live like Annie, someday the only supercrips around will be the X-Men.