What do you think?
Rate this book
Disabled Ecologies: Lessons from a Wounded Desert
A powerful analysis and call to action that reveals disability as one of the defining features of environmental devastation and the movements that resist it.
Deep below the ground in Tucson, Arizona, lies an aquifer forever altered by the detritus of a postwar Superfund site. Disabled Ecologies tells the story of this contamination and its ripple effects through the largely Mexican American community living above. Drawing on her own complex relationship to this long-ago injured landscape, Sunaura Taylor takes us with her to follow the site's disabled ecology—the networks of disability, both human and wild, that are created when ecosystems are corrupted and profoundly altered.
What Taylor finds is a story of entanglements that reach far beyond the Sonoran Desert. These stories tell of debilitating and sometimes life-ending injuries, but they also map out alternative modes of connection, solidarity, and resistance—an environmentalism of the injured. An original and deeply personal reflection on what disability means in an era of increasing multispecies disablement, Disabled Ecologies is a powerful call to reflect on the kinds of care, treatment, and assistance this age of disability requires.
Deep below the ground in Tucson, Arizona, lies an aquifer forever altered by the detritus of a postwar Superfund site. Disabled Ecologies tells the story of this contamination and its ripple effects through the largely Mexican American community living above. Drawing on her own complex relationship to this long-ago injured landscape, Sunaura Taylor takes us with her to follow the site's disabled ecology—the networks of disability, both human and wild, that are created when ecosystems are corrupted and profoundly altered.
What Taylor finds is a story of entanglements that reach far beyond the Sonoran Desert. These stories tell of debilitating and sometimes life-ending injuries, but they also map out alternative modes of connection, solidarity, and resistance—an environmentalism of the injured. An original and deeply personal reflection on what disability means in an era of increasing multispecies disablement, Disabled Ecologies is a powerful call to reflect on the kinds of care, treatment, and assistance this age of disability requires.
368 pages, Hardcover
Published May 21, 2024
35 people are currently reading
1095 people want to read
About the author
Sunaura Taylor
8 books41 followersSunaura "Sunny" Taylor is an artist and writer based in New York City and the author of Beasts of Burden: Animal and Disability Liberation (The New Press). She has written for AlterNet, American Quarterly, BOMB, the Monthly Review, Qui Parle, and Yes! magazine and has contributed to the books Ecofeminism, Defiant Daughters, Occupy!, Stay Solid, and Infinite City. Taylor and Judith Butler’s conversation is featured in the film Examined Life and the book of the same name, published by The New Press.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews
August 9, 2024
Updating to add a link to Taylor's coauthored important article that was just published:
If the left is serious about saving democracy, there’s one more cause to add to the list
Original review:
The bar was already set very high for Disabled Ecologies: Lessons from a Wounded Desert before I even had my hands on the book. I have been a massive fan of Sunaura Taylor's work- both artistically and academically for some time. Her paintings are uniquely stunning and her book, Beasts of Burden: Animal and Disability Liberation was a groundbreaking text regarding discussions of the ableism central to nonhuman animal and human exploitation. I'm happy to say that this book met my expectations and then some.
One of the best things about this text is that it has all of the meticulous research and information of an academic dissertation without all of the absurdly unnecessary jargon. It reads like an academic text for sure because that's what it is, but it can actually be read by people outside the field which is something that should be true for any disability scholarship but often isn't. Taylor also had a clear intention with how she used footnotes that gives the reader a variety of ways to choose how to engage with them without requiring them to skip to the back of the book where they are often found. The research materials of the book are also used in a very engaging way. We have the usual statistics here and there as well as lots of newspaper clippings and photographs from a time before everything was easily found online. Taylor also offers reportbacks from activist community meetings and other events that she attended in person. Taylor clearly put a ton of work into this book. It not only adds to the credibility of her claims. It allows her to highlight marginalized voices often silenced in these discussions. It also makes the book more readable in general and breaks up the text well.
Disabled Ecologies is an interesting academic exercise because it has a very personal note at the center. Taylor uses her experiences from Tuscon, AZ of aquifer and other pollution caused by the military (which likely led to her being born with her disability,) as an anchor for the rest of the book. Such an intimate exercise navigated the personal connection to disability with the global field well. This is an important skill as none of us is able to divorce ourselves from our own experience and position in the working. This framing also allows her to discuss the thorny issue of disability liberation in the context of when environmental destruction is the cause of disablement.
Taylor grapples with the disabling nature of ecodestruction and the idea of illness, cure, eugenics, and public health in general. She does not glamorize disability nor does she take away from the positive idea of a disabled future with the care and support that could entail in an ideal situation. She gathers the words of others like Eli Clare who have also discussed the politics around the idea of cure. In all of these elements, Taylor makes clear the need for disability to always be part of discussions around environment including how environmental injury occurs.
Much of these sections made me think about the idea of body neutrality as opposed to body positivity. We do not need every narrative of success to be a happy story where each person is/feels uniquely beautiful within a fairy tale as our only response to the negative, pitying, blaming narratives around disability and other body-related issues The body can just be a body that has an amalgamation of characteristics coming from many sources and experiences.
A good chunk of the book is spent discussing the methods that polluters use to redirect their responsibility for the destruction of the planet and the lives of everyone on it. This fits into disability and eugenecist capitalism in how they turn health into an individual issue. When disability is depoliticized and characterized only as an individual medical problem, it allows those in power to shift blame onto (often also racist, classist, colonialist, etc) notions of culture, behavior, etc. Polluters manage this even when entire communities are suffering and dying from high rates of illness unique to their location for generations matching up perfectly with the polluters' activities. Polluters knew then just as they do now the effects of their industry. They are even skilled at turning science/medicine against us claiming to always need more research to "prove" their pollution causes illness- a level of burden always just out of reach. One little historical tidbit that surprised me was that Raegan's "war on cancer," was instrumental in changing the focus to genetics and individual and rather than environmental research. I've had cancer 3 times (which I do believe may have environmental causes) and even personally I can see how this culture affected every aspect of my treatment. Even if Raegan was well intentioned for once, flooding one form of the research market and neglecting the other undoubtedly backfired. I had genetic testing and infusions but no one asked about my polluted water or examined why my roommate and I both had cancers with recurrences in our 30s.
The conclusion of the text is very well written and connects the local to the global in skilled and frankly horrifying ways. We learn that the same polluters in Tuscon manufactured bombs used in Yemen among other atrocities. She also connects the human to the more than human in discussions of how the rest of the animals on this planet are affected. She reframes narratives on Darwinism (while acknowledging his many faults) to include the reality that the message should not be about the "fittest," but about how consistent change, mutation, and variation are what have and continue to propagate life. It is a call to action to support this variation in order for us to continuously adapt to ecocide. When Taylor joined us at VINE book club to discuss the text, she elaborated more on her intention to avoid "one and done" apocalypse narratives, discussing the importance of seeing ourselves in an ongoing struggle. She also mentioned how the discussion of systemic pollution and authoritarianism do not remove the value and effectiveness of our individual participation in organizing and liberatory movements (such as veganism.)
This review could have been even longer had I mentioned everything I learned and loved about this book. Sunaura Taylor has shown us yet again her ability to add something new and revelatory to ongoing discussions about disability and the environment at a time when it's more important than ever.
This was also posted to my blog and storygraph.
If the left is serious about saving democracy, there’s one more cause to add to the list
Original review:
The bar was already set very high for Disabled Ecologies: Lessons from a Wounded Desert before I even had my hands on the book. I have been a massive fan of Sunaura Taylor's work- both artistically and academically for some time. Her paintings are uniquely stunning and her book, Beasts of Burden: Animal and Disability Liberation was a groundbreaking text regarding discussions of the ableism central to nonhuman animal and human exploitation. I'm happy to say that this book met my expectations and then some.
One of the best things about this text is that it has all of the meticulous research and information of an academic dissertation without all of the absurdly unnecessary jargon. It reads like an academic text for sure because that's what it is, but it can actually be read by people outside the field which is something that should be true for any disability scholarship but often isn't. Taylor also had a clear intention with how she used footnotes that gives the reader a variety of ways to choose how to engage with them without requiring them to skip to the back of the book where they are often found. The research materials of the book are also used in a very engaging way. We have the usual statistics here and there as well as lots of newspaper clippings and photographs from a time before everything was easily found online. Taylor also offers reportbacks from activist community meetings and other events that she attended in person. Taylor clearly put a ton of work into this book. It not only adds to the credibility of her claims. It allows her to highlight marginalized voices often silenced in these discussions. It also makes the book more readable in general and breaks up the text well.
Disabled Ecologies is an interesting academic exercise because it has a very personal note at the center. Taylor uses her experiences from Tuscon, AZ of aquifer and other pollution caused by the military (which likely led to her being born with her disability,) as an anchor for the rest of the book. Such an intimate exercise navigated the personal connection to disability with the global field well. This is an important skill as none of us is able to divorce ourselves from our own experience and position in the working. This framing also allows her to discuss the thorny issue of disability liberation in the context of when environmental destruction is the cause of disablement.
Taylor grapples with the disabling nature of ecodestruction and the idea of illness, cure, eugenics, and public health in general. She does not glamorize disability nor does she take away from the positive idea of a disabled future with the care and support that could entail in an ideal situation. She gathers the words of others like Eli Clare who have also discussed the politics around the idea of cure. In all of these elements, Taylor makes clear the need for disability to always be part of discussions around environment including how environmental injury occurs.
Much of these sections made me think about the idea of body neutrality as opposed to body positivity. We do not need every narrative of success to be a happy story where each person is/feels uniquely beautiful within a fairy tale as our only response to the negative, pitying, blaming narratives around disability and other body-related issues The body can just be a body that has an amalgamation of characteristics coming from many sources and experiences.
A good chunk of the book is spent discussing the methods that polluters use to redirect their responsibility for the destruction of the planet and the lives of everyone on it. This fits into disability and eugenecist capitalism in how they turn health into an individual issue. When disability is depoliticized and characterized only as an individual medical problem, it allows those in power to shift blame onto (often also racist, classist, colonialist, etc) notions of culture, behavior, etc. Polluters manage this even when entire communities are suffering and dying from high rates of illness unique to their location for generations matching up perfectly with the polluters' activities. Polluters knew then just as they do now the effects of their industry. They are even skilled at turning science/medicine against us claiming to always need more research to "prove" their pollution causes illness- a level of burden always just out of reach. One little historical tidbit that surprised me was that Raegan's "war on cancer," was instrumental in changing the focus to genetics and individual and rather than environmental research. I've had cancer 3 times (which I do believe may have environmental causes) and even personally I can see how this culture affected every aspect of my treatment. Even if Raegan was well intentioned for once, flooding one form of the research market and neglecting the other undoubtedly backfired. I had genetic testing and infusions but no one asked about my polluted water or examined why my roommate and I both had cancers with recurrences in our 30s.
The conclusion of the text is very well written and connects the local to the global in skilled and frankly horrifying ways. We learn that the same polluters in Tuscon manufactured bombs used in Yemen among other atrocities. She also connects the human to the more than human in discussions of how the rest of the animals on this planet are affected. She reframes narratives on Darwinism (while acknowledging his many faults) to include the reality that the message should not be about the "fittest," but about how consistent change, mutation, and variation are what have and continue to propagate life. It is a call to action to support this variation in order for us to continuously adapt to ecocide. When Taylor joined us at VINE book club to discuss the text, she elaborated more on her intention to avoid "one and done" apocalypse narratives, discussing the importance of seeing ourselves in an ongoing struggle. She also mentioned how the discussion of systemic pollution and authoritarianism do not remove the value and effectiveness of our individual participation in organizing and liberatory movements (such as veganism.)
This review could have been even longer had I mentioned everything I learned and loved about this book. Sunaura Taylor has shown us yet again her ability to add something new and revelatory to ongoing discussions about disability and the environment at a time when it's more important than ever.
This was also posted to my blog and storygraph.
January 12, 2025
This book was astounding! It did truly take me 6 months to read but I have treasured my time with it and now the library might forgive my late fees! There were so many parts of this book that I’m going to think about forever and it was such a gift to read it while attempting to figure out the desert around me as well. What a privilege to have this book to guide my own confusing environmentalism!
Read
July 8, 2025I've read this in my academic quest to find a proper conceptual apparatus to think the fact that we are born and live in a radically altered environment (micro and nanoplastics, PFAS, etc.), so much so that it is a ground zero as far as our lived experience is concerned. There is no possibility of returning to an intact natural state or of remediation. In a sense, we — as well as non-human and more-than-human beings — are always already disabled. While not exactly what I was looking for, this book points to a productive direction in which to think about these issues.
Read
August 29, 2024Review forthcoming :)
March 25, 2025
¿Cómo podemos aprender de los humanos, animales y ecosistemas enfermos y discapacitados a vivir con la discapacidad, a la vez que trabajamos para desmantelar los sistemas de explotación y opresión que comúnmente la causan?
A pesar de la abrumadora evidencia de que la discapacidad está a nuestro alrededor—apunta Sunaura Taylor en la conclusión del libro— hay una sorprendente falta de lenguaje para abordar la discapacidad humana y ecológica en su conjunto, es decir, como parte de la misma trama. Disabled Ecologies nos ofrece un lenguaje para ello, uno enraizado en los movimientos y perspectivas de la discapacidad crítica: Si nuestros ecosistemas están enfermos, deteriorados y discapacitados, parece claro que es vital recurrir a las personas discapacitadas y enfermas para obtener los conocimientos críticos y generativos sobre salud, limitación, heridas, pérdidas, adaptación y cuidados que han surgido de estas comunidades.
Los ecosistemas dañados por la deforestación, el uso de fertilizantes, el extractivismo, o el vertido de tóxicos, entre otras causas, crean una compleja red de relaciones más que humana. Una red que conecta el aire, las aguas y las tierras que han sido alteradas con las enfermedades, lesiones y discapacidades que encarnan los animales, plantas, hongos y bacterias que los habitan. Una red que conforma lo que Sunaura Taylor ha llamado ecologías discas (Disabled Ecologies).
Si bien estas ecologías cuentan historias de lesiones —a menudo debilitantes y a veces mortales— también trazan claramente modos alternativos de conexión, solidaridad y resistencia. Estas nos enseñan a:
1. Centrarnos en las redes relacionales que conectan cuerpos y territorios. Nuestros cuerpos son inseparables de los territorios que habitamos y, por lo tanto, de las desigualdades sociales que dan forma a esos territorios.
2. Desafiar las desigualdades sociales y los sistemas de poder que las producen —que son las causas fundamentales del daño— sin dejar de valorar las vidas y aportes de las personas, animales y ecosistemas enfermos y discapacitados.
3. Negarnos a abandonar a las personas y territorios que han sido dañadas. Ej. el derecho a regresar a comunidades, barrios y entornos que son tratados como zonas de sacrificio; o el derecho a ser rescatadas por el que luchan las personas discas.
Así, las ecologías discas se refiere tanto a una red de relaciones marcadas por lo tullido, como a un tipo de justicia medioambiental.
Esta visión se opone a otro tipo de prácticas medioambientales muy extendidas que Sunaura denomina ecologías capacitistas. Aquellas ecologías que instrumentalizan la potencia emotiva y simbólica de las personas, animales, plantas y ecosistemas dañados (ej. cómo relatos con moraleja), no para hacer sus vidas más llevaderas, sino para proteger a aquellos seres vivos y ecosistemas que aún no han sido alterados y que, por lo tanto, conservan todas sus capacidades. Aquellas ecologías que siguen políticas eugenésicas, dicotómicas (la fantasía de lo puro frente a lo contaminado) y del abandono. Pensemos en las zonas de sacrificio (consideradas por muchos como efectos secundarios inevitables del progreso) frente a los parques naturales (que se esfuerzan por conservar una naturaleza prístina de postal y recreo para el turismo). Ecologías que no son marginales, sino que datan de los inicios del ambientalismo estadounidense con Theodore Roosevelt, Madison Grant o Gifford Pinchot. Y que actualmente se palpan en las respuestas eco-fascistas puestas en practica por gobiernos y empresas a nivel global.
Por otro lado, me ha parecido novedoso como Sunaura presenta la discapacidad como un fenómeno, una fuerza que existe en el universo, ni exclusivamente destructiva, ni exclusivamente generativa. Las cosas mutan, se descomponen, se ralentizan, se atrofian, son dependientes, se dañan y tienden a la entropía. La transformación lesiva y la atrofia son parte de lo que impulsa la creación y la diversidad en el universo. Estos fenómenos son aspectos persistentes e integrales de la materia y la energía, no limitados a la vida humana, ni siquiera a la vida misma (pág. 31). Son la variación, el cambio y la diferencia los que impulsan la propagación de los organismos vivos. En este caso, la normalidad no es el motor de la vida, ni tampoco lo es la capacidad física (pág. 251).
Aunque la autora se sitúa en el caso de la contaminación del acuífero de Tucson por la industria militar, me encantaría ver este marco aplicado a otros casos: ¿cómo son las ecologías discas creadas por las explotaciones petrolíferas, los monocultivos y sus pesticidas, deforestaciones… en otras regiones?, ¿qué estrategias de resistencia propias han surgido de ellas? Ojala otres teoriques apliquen este marco.
Gracias gracias gracias Sunaura :) Leeré lo siguiente que escribas, aprendo muchísimo con cada lectura.
(el libro no está en castellano, las traducciones de las citas las he hecho con ayuda de google lens).
A pesar de la abrumadora evidencia de que la discapacidad está a nuestro alrededor—apunta Sunaura Taylor en la conclusión del libro— hay una sorprendente falta de lenguaje para abordar la discapacidad humana y ecológica en su conjunto, es decir, como parte de la misma trama. Disabled Ecologies nos ofrece un lenguaje para ello, uno enraizado en los movimientos y perspectivas de la discapacidad crítica: Si nuestros ecosistemas están enfermos, deteriorados y discapacitados, parece claro que es vital recurrir a las personas discapacitadas y enfermas para obtener los conocimientos críticos y generativos sobre salud, limitación, heridas, pérdidas, adaptación y cuidados que han surgido de estas comunidades.
Los ecosistemas dañados por la deforestación, el uso de fertilizantes, el extractivismo, o el vertido de tóxicos, entre otras causas, crean una compleja red de relaciones más que humana. Una red que conecta el aire, las aguas y las tierras que han sido alteradas con las enfermedades, lesiones y discapacidades que encarnan los animales, plantas, hongos y bacterias que los habitan. Una red que conforma lo que Sunaura Taylor ha llamado ecologías discas (Disabled Ecologies).
Si bien estas ecologías cuentan historias de lesiones —a menudo debilitantes y a veces mortales— también trazan claramente modos alternativos de conexión, solidaridad y resistencia. Estas nos enseñan a:
1. Centrarnos en las redes relacionales que conectan cuerpos y territorios. Nuestros cuerpos son inseparables de los territorios que habitamos y, por lo tanto, de las desigualdades sociales que dan forma a esos territorios.
2. Desafiar las desigualdades sociales y los sistemas de poder que las producen —que son las causas fundamentales del daño— sin dejar de valorar las vidas y aportes de las personas, animales y ecosistemas enfermos y discapacitados.
3. Negarnos a abandonar a las personas y territorios que han sido dañadas. Ej. el derecho a regresar a comunidades, barrios y entornos que son tratados como zonas de sacrificio; o el derecho a ser rescatadas por el que luchan las personas discas.
Así, las ecologías discas se refiere tanto a una red de relaciones marcadas por lo tullido, como a un tipo de justicia medioambiental.
Esta visión se opone a otro tipo de prácticas medioambientales muy extendidas que Sunaura denomina ecologías capacitistas. Aquellas ecologías que instrumentalizan la potencia emotiva y simbólica de las personas, animales, plantas y ecosistemas dañados (ej. cómo relatos con moraleja), no para hacer sus vidas más llevaderas, sino para proteger a aquellos seres vivos y ecosistemas que aún no han sido alterados y que, por lo tanto, conservan todas sus capacidades. Aquellas ecologías que siguen políticas eugenésicas, dicotómicas (la fantasía de lo puro frente a lo contaminado) y del abandono. Pensemos en las zonas de sacrificio (consideradas por muchos como efectos secundarios inevitables del progreso) frente a los parques naturales (que se esfuerzan por conservar una naturaleza prístina de postal y recreo para el turismo). Ecologías que no son marginales, sino que datan de los inicios del ambientalismo estadounidense con Theodore Roosevelt, Madison Grant o Gifford Pinchot. Y que actualmente se palpan en las respuestas eco-fascistas puestas en practica por gobiernos y empresas a nivel global.
Por otro lado, me ha parecido novedoso como Sunaura presenta la discapacidad como un fenómeno, una fuerza que existe en el universo, ni exclusivamente destructiva, ni exclusivamente generativa. Las cosas mutan, se descomponen, se ralentizan, se atrofian, son dependientes, se dañan y tienden a la entropía. La transformación lesiva y la atrofia son parte de lo que impulsa la creación y la diversidad en el universo. Estos fenómenos son aspectos persistentes e integrales de la materia y la energía, no limitados a la vida humana, ni siquiera a la vida misma (pág. 31). Son la variación, el cambio y la diferencia los que impulsan la propagación de los organismos vivos. En este caso, la normalidad no es el motor de la vida, ni tampoco lo es la capacidad física (pág. 251).
Aunque la autora se sitúa en el caso de la contaminación del acuífero de Tucson por la industria militar, me encantaría ver este marco aplicado a otros casos: ¿cómo son las ecologías discas creadas por las explotaciones petrolíferas, los monocultivos y sus pesticidas, deforestaciones… en otras regiones?, ¿qué estrategias de resistencia propias han surgido de ellas? Ojala otres teoriques apliquen este marco.
Gracias gracias gracias Sunaura :) Leeré lo siguiente que escribas, aprendo muchísimo con cada lectura.
(el libro no está en castellano, las traducciones de las citas las he hecho con ayuda de google lens).
June 3, 2025
This is a very fascinating, well-written, and clear book that presents a thorough history of the Hughes aircraft’s pollution of the southside neighborhoods in Tucson, AZ. I really liked the combination of disability studies and environmentalism and the history of public health and the EPA (how the EPA removed public health from the official view of environmental harm and essentially allowed polluters to not pay reparations to the communities they harm).
My biggest critique is that the voices of southside organizers are represented from a distance, since the author was hesitant to interview community members that have been the subject of unhelpful research for decades. I get that hesitancy, but I also think she used this reason as an excuse to not get heavily involved with community organizing, which is the only way this book could have been effective in inciting change. The community perspective is at the heart of the authors argument, and yet she doesn’t speak with community members to get their view on her arguments… how can she possibly claim to speak for a community she doesn’t know? She stays theoretical with her arguments of “living with” disabled environments and injury environmentalism, and so these concepts remain flat without the addition of anecdotes from southside members as to how they are currently living with these frameworks. Without examples, her arguments are ineffective, which is sad because I agree with her!! I just would have loved to see examples. I felt like I was waiting for the meat of the book’s argument, and it just never came.
My biggest critique is that the voices of southside organizers are represented from a distance, since the author was hesitant to interview community members that have been the subject of unhelpful research for decades. I get that hesitancy, but I also think she used this reason as an excuse to not get heavily involved with community organizing, which is the only way this book could have been effective in inciting change. The community perspective is at the heart of the authors argument, and yet she doesn’t speak with community members to get their view on her arguments… how can she possibly claim to speak for a community she doesn’t know? She stays theoretical with her arguments of “living with” disabled environments and injury environmentalism, and so these concepts remain flat without the addition of anecdotes from southside members as to how they are currently living with these frameworks. Without examples, her arguments are ineffective, which is sad because I agree with her!! I just would have loved to see examples. I felt like I was waiting for the meat of the book’s argument, and it just never came.
April 8, 2025
This was SO good. The type of book that had me listing off things I learned from it in daily conversation. Really important stuff in here. I didn't know about the contamination of Tucson's southside aquifer before this book, and this book provided a very thorough history of it. Sunaura Taylor is so masterful at the way that she ties together disability and other forms of injustice, to the point where I wonder how anyone could doubt it. From this to Beasts of Burden, she is a pro at deconstructing these historically ableist movements. Not only that, but I really feel her writing is fairly accessible. (The ways she uses footnotes and how early on she compared it to "crip time" was so so neat) The final chapter on "environmentalism of the injured" was incredibly moving. Going to be thinking about this one for a while.
July 14, 2024
Disabled Ecologies es un texto que busca ofrecer un lenguaje para comprender los mundos lastimados y heridos que vivimos. A partir de un análisis desde los lentes de la discapacidad, Taylor teje una red de daño que une a los cuerpos humanos y más que humanos, y a todas las ecologías que les acompañan: árboles, plantas, montañas, aire, acuíferos.
En una era donde el daño al medio ambiente es evidente, utilizar la discapacidad para entender las ecológicas discapacitadas es acercarse a la vulnerabilidad compartida entre humanos, las especies y los paisajes que nos acercan a las puertas de una era de discapacidad; es decir, a una red de daño sistemático compartido que produce discapacidad planetaria.
Así, este libro es una lectura obligatoria para entender nuestra pertenencia a comunidades de ecológicas y mutiespecies discapacitadas y preguntarnos: ¿si el futuro es discapacitado, cómo queremos ser tratados? La respuesta, tejer ecológicas de apoyo y aprender nuevas formas de vivir con el daño.
En una era donde el daño al medio ambiente es evidente, utilizar la discapacidad para entender las ecológicas discapacitadas es acercarse a la vulnerabilidad compartida entre humanos, las especies y los paisajes que nos acercan a las puertas de una era de discapacidad; es decir, a una red de daño sistemático compartido que produce discapacidad planetaria.
Así, este libro es una lectura obligatoria para entender nuestra pertenencia a comunidades de ecológicas y mutiespecies discapacitadas y preguntarnos: ¿si el futuro es discapacitado, cómo queremos ser tratados? La respuesta, tejer ecológicas de apoyo y aprender nuevas formas de vivir con el daño.
June 12, 2025
I don't know exactly how I found this book, but it does match the themes I've been exploring. This is the third book set in Tucson I've read this year and I love reading about nature which automatically includes the environment. However, this book is much more academic than I'm used to, it reminded me of my experience reading Planta Sapiens: The New Science of Plant Intelligence...I'm just not at this level, especially not as I'm falling asleep. The book includes EXTENSIVE notes, the first endnote was at 53% of the eBook and they weren't always short little tidbits, sometimes the notes were multiple paragraphs. The author explains why and how the notes were used, but some of it felt like it was necessary to better understand so should have been in the main text.
I definitely had my own bias going in because I agreed with the author's idea before even understanding what it was. We are disabling ecologies, we are hurting our fellow human and not-human beings largely thanks to the greed inherent in this capitalist (and racist) society. The TIAA Superfund site (and aquifer) in Tucson is explored as a disabled ecological system along with the humans (and nonhuman animals) that have been impacted by the pollution left by government and corporate interests. The government, one would think, would be a buffer between corporations and individuals, but no...it is a tool of the wealthy and it always has been. There have been moments where the rights of individual citizens have risen to the top, when seemingly the corporations have lost, but these days, even when found guilty by a jury, they're pardoned and keep all of their ill-gotten gains. It is foolish that the government separated environmental "protection" from health considering so much of our health IS dependent on our environment but makes sense when you consider the government is more likely to protect corporate interests than those of individual citizens.
Ultimately, I learned a lot, but finished still wanting to know more about the Superfund site in Tucson. I'm also very curious about the author's book about animals, Beasts of Burden: Animal and Disability Liberation. The more I've learned about evolution the more I've realized that we are ALL animals, we just happen to have taken over with our adaptable, big brains, and it sounds like she explores the human obsession with labeling and "order" via the intersection of disability and animal rights.
Tucson:
Nature, Health, etc:
I definitely had my own bias going in because I agreed with the author's idea before even understanding what it was. We are disabling ecologies, we are hurting our fellow human and not-human beings largely thanks to the greed inherent in this capitalist (and racist) society. The TIAA Superfund site (and aquifer) in Tucson is explored as a disabled ecological system along with the humans (and nonhuman animals) that have been impacted by the pollution left by government and corporate interests. The government, one would think, would be a buffer between corporations and individuals, but no...it is a tool of the wealthy and it always has been. There have been moments where the rights of individual citizens have risen to the top, when seemingly the corporations have lost, but these days, even when found guilty by a jury, they're pardoned and keep all of their ill-gotten gains. It is foolish that the government separated environmental "protection" from health considering so much of our health IS dependent on our environment but makes sense when you consider the government is more likely to protect corporate interests than those of individual citizens.
Ultimately, I learned a lot, but finished still wanting to know more about the Superfund site in Tucson. I'm also very curious about the author's book about animals, Beasts of Burden: Animal and Disability Liberation. The more I've learned about evolution the more I've realized that we are ALL animals, we just happen to have taken over with our adaptable, big brains, and it sounds like she explores the human obsession with labeling and "order" via the intersection of disability and animal rights.
Tucson:
Nature, Health, etc:
March 24, 2025
Some books teach. Some expose. But Disabled Ecologies—this book transforms. It opened up a quiet, aching part of me that had always sensed the interdependence of bodies, environments, histories, and harms, but didn’t yet have the language to articulate it. Now, I do.
Reading this felt like listening to groundwater speak. It’s not loud. It seeps. It holds the grief of poisoned aquifers and maimed landscapes not as metaphor, but as kin. As real, material injury. “Our bodies are land,” Taylor writes—not metaphorically but as lived truth in an unjust world where environmental harm doesn’t fall evenly, and never accidentally.
This is not a book of catastrophes. It is a book of connections. One that insists on “an environmentalism of the injured”—a framework that doesn’t abandon damaged places or people in pursuit of restoration fantasies. A way of recognizing that “injury and sickness are fundamental to life,” so the question is not how to erase them—but how to live, resist, and relate through them.
After finishing this book, I found myself returning to that viral video titled "I Was An MIT-Educated Neurosurgeon. Now I'm Unemployed And Alone In The Mountains. How Did I Get Here?"
It made me reflect on how our world—especially in the U.S.—glorifies professions that repair, not prevent. We exalt doctors, lawyers, neurosurgeons—not that they’re the problem (some of my favorite and most trusted people are in these roles)—but there’s something systemic about our love for treatment. We mistake treatment for care. We think healing happens after harm.
But Taylor gently, insistently asks: what if real care means not leaving in the first place?
Her writing doesn’t blame. It traces. She shows us how ecologies—social, bodily, environmental—are interconnected in ways capitalism tries to hide. One of the most affecting sections was the case study on water in the desert. What Anglo settlers once saw as sacred, nourishing, and interdependent was later reduced to “annual yield.” The Quitobaquito Spring—sacred groundwater—was pumped out to build a border wall that has starved migrating animals, split ancestral territory, and erased ceremonial sites. “The wall is in many ways the physical manifestation of colonialism’s disregard for O’odham sovereignty, desert ecosystems, and life.” One touch in one ecology, and you make harm. The system adjusts itself—but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Domino.
And while the content itself gripped me, I also want to give credit to the structure: I loved the footnotes. So clear and reader-centered. I found them to fall into five intuitive categories—sources, informational elaborations, theoretical framing, etc. For a book this rigorous, they made it astonishingly accessible. They felt like Taylor saying, “Here, walk with me.” :)
This book affirms what I’ve long felt but didn’t know how to say: that restoration isn’t about returning to some lost purity. That “cure” isn’t always the answer. That our survival might depend on slowing down, listening deeply, and reimagining disability not as lack, but as relation.
This is not a book about overcoming. It’s about staying with the trouble. And refusing to leave anyone—or any place—behind.
Reading this felt like listening to groundwater speak. It’s not loud. It seeps. It holds the grief of poisoned aquifers and maimed landscapes not as metaphor, but as kin. As real, material injury. “Our bodies are land,” Taylor writes—not metaphorically but as lived truth in an unjust world where environmental harm doesn’t fall evenly, and never accidentally.
This is not a book of catastrophes. It is a book of connections. One that insists on “an environmentalism of the injured”—a framework that doesn’t abandon damaged places or people in pursuit of restoration fantasies. A way of recognizing that “injury and sickness are fundamental to life,” so the question is not how to erase them—but how to live, resist, and relate through them.
After finishing this book, I found myself returning to that viral video titled "I Was An MIT-Educated Neurosurgeon. Now I'm Unemployed And Alone In The Mountains. How Did I Get Here?"
It made me reflect on how our world—especially in the U.S.—glorifies professions that repair, not prevent. We exalt doctors, lawyers, neurosurgeons—not that they’re the problem (some of my favorite and most trusted people are in these roles)—but there’s something systemic about our love for treatment. We mistake treatment for care. We think healing happens after harm.
But Taylor gently, insistently asks: what if real care means not leaving in the first place?
Her writing doesn’t blame. It traces. She shows us how ecologies—social, bodily, environmental—are interconnected in ways capitalism tries to hide. One of the most affecting sections was the case study on water in the desert. What Anglo settlers once saw as sacred, nourishing, and interdependent was later reduced to “annual yield.” The Quitobaquito Spring—sacred groundwater—was pumped out to build a border wall that has starved migrating animals, split ancestral territory, and erased ceremonial sites. “The wall is in many ways the physical manifestation of colonialism’s disregard for O’odham sovereignty, desert ecosystems, and life.” One touch in one ecology, and you make harm. The system adjusts itself—but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Domino.
And while the content itself gripped me, I also want to give credit to the structure: I loved the footnotes. So clear and reader-centered. I found them to fall into five intuitive categories—sources, informational elaborations, theoretical framing, etc. For a book this rigorous, they made it astonishingly accessible. They felt like Taylor saying, “Here, walk with me.” :)
This book affirms what I’ve long felt but didn’t know how to say: that restoration isn’t about returning to some lost purity. That “cure” isn’t always the answer. That our survival might depend on slowing down, listening deeply, and reimagining disability not as lack, but as relation.
This is not a book about overcoming. It’s about staying with the trouble. And refusing to leave anyone—or any place—behind.
February 5, 2025
This is probably one of the best nonfiction books I've ever read. I'm sure other reviewers are able to express themselves better, because I'm not even sure how to go about everything I've learned from this.
I'm not an environmental studies major or a disability studies major, nor have I even taken any of those classes, so much of the terminology and theory may have slipped past me—and I'll probably bumble my way through this review.
Some of the questions or points Sunaura Taylor raised that really got me thinking were
- a central dynamic of ableism is that it always overlaps other categories of difference. "Ableism is forged together with colonialism and racial capitalism, systems built on extraction, dispossession, and disablement of both land and peoples." (I am also attempting to read "The Right to Maim" by Jasbir Puar, and this sentence has really helped me understand some elements in that book ... which is extremely academic, and is giving me a hell of a lot of trouble.)
- Should we accept ecosystems into the disability community? For example, in the book, Taylor talks about the aquifer of her community in southern Tucson. Is there a solid reason why a contaminated aquifer can't be a disabled being?
- Can there be ways to talk about disability as a tragedy in ways that are not ableist? In ways that "recognize that how one became disabled is likely deeply tied to how one understands and experiences disability? [...] we cannot cleanly separate being disabled from becoming disabled. [...] In other words, attending to violence and trauma does not run counter to but is actually an essential part of critical theories of disability."
- The separation of humans from nature has meant that our healthcare and environmental regulations are not tied to the health of the environment around us. "This approach separates the needs of humans (for justice, health, and recovery) from that of all other species and the environment, severing the healing of people and communities from the healing of nature." (Even if the cause of disablement/impairment is the same.)
- There was a lot in the following section about how the US industry fought to reduce the ties between workers and the state by offering benefits tied to their employment, but I honestly don't think I am knowledgeable enough about that topic to even write anything here. But it definitely opened my eyes.
I don't have that much else to say, except that I will absolutely be reading everything that Sunaura Taylor ends up publishing, and I'll also be perusing those footnotes for other recommendations as well.
(Also? The author is a painter, and her work is ridiculously amazing.)
I'm not an environmental studies major or a disability studies major, nor have I even taken any of those classes, so much of the terminology and theory may have slipped past me—and I'll probably bumble my way through this review.
Some of the questions or points Sunaura Taylor raised that really got me thinking were
- a central dynamic of ableism is that it always overlaps other categories of difference. "Ableism is forged together with colonialism and racial capitalism, systems built on extraction, dispossession, and disablement of both land and peoples." (I am also attempting to read "The Right to Maim" by Jasbir Puar, and this sentence has really helped me understand some elements in that book ... which is extremely academic, and is giving me a hell of a lot of trouble.)
- Should we accept ecosystems into the disability community? For example, in the book, Taylor talks about the aquifer of her community in southern Tucson. Is there a solid reason why a contaminated aquifer can't be a disabled being?
- Can there be ways to talk about disability as a tragedy in ways that are not ableist? In ways that "recognize that how one became disabled is likely deeply tied to how one understands and experiences disability? [...] we cannot cleanly separate being disabled from becoming disabled. [...] In other words, attending to violence and trauma does not run counter to but is actually an essential part of critical theories of disability."
- The separation of humans from nature has meant that our healthcare and environmental regulations are not tied to the health of the environment around us. "This approach separates the needs of humans (for justice, health, and recovery) from that of all other species and the environment, severing the healing of people and communities from the healing of nature." (Even if the cause of disablement/impairment is the same.)
- There was a lot in the following section about how the US industry fought to reduce the ties between workers and the state by offering benefits tied to their employment, but I honestly don't think I am knowledgeable enough about that topic to even write anything here. But it definitely opened my eyes.
I don't have that much else to say, except that I will absolutely be reading everything that Sunaura Taylor ends up publishing, and I'll also be perusing those footnotes for other recommendations as well.
(Also? The author is a painter, and her work is ridiculously amazing.)
April 26, 2025
Sunaura Taylor’s Disabled Ecologies is a revelation—gritty and intimate, blisteringly political yet tender in its insights. With poetic precision and righteous clarity, Taylor excavates the toxic legacy of Tucson’s aquifer poisoning, not just as a site of environmental collapse, but as a story of systemic violence against disabled, racialized, and working-class communities. What begins as a study of ecological harm slowly, devastatingly, unfurls into memoir: Taylor herself is disabled as a direct result of this chemical catastrophe, tying the fate of her body to that of the land.
Taylor defines a “disabled ecology” as the web of interdependent disablements that emerge when ecosystems are deliberately corrupted—by capitalism, by militarism, by settler-colonial extractivism. Her analysis pierces through the sanitized myths of environmentalism that so often center purity and whiteness, exposing instead how the state and corporations like Hughes Aircraft weaponize pollution, ableism, and racism to obscure culpability. These “slow violences” aren’t accidents, she insists. They’re choices—efficient and profitable ones—that disable both landscapes and lives with devastating permanence.
Through vivid storytelling and archival rigor, Taylor dismantles the artificial line between human and environment. She reminds us that aquifers are living bodies too—porous, vast, and full of memory. Her exploration of the O’odham people’s relationship to the land, of monocropping and eugenics, and of the weaponization of “health” against BIPOC communities, insists that healing must be collective, ecological, and rooted in justice.
This book aches with rage, but also with clarity and care. Taylor doesn’t just document harm—she insists on responsibility. She offers a fierce call for an “environmentalism of the injured,” one that centers interdependence over individualism, and truth over institutional denial. Disabled Ecologies is a luminous, unflinching testament to the fact that our bodies are not separate from the world—they are shaped by it, harmed by it, and, with enough will, capable of transforming it.
📖 Read this if you love: eco-crip theory, abolitionist environmentalism, slow violence narratives, or the works of Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha.
🔑 Key Themes: Environmental Racism and Ableism, State Negligence and Corporate Harm, Disability and Ecological Entanglement, Collective Care and Interdependence, Capitalism and Contamination.
Taylor defines a “disabled ecology” as the web of interdependent disablements that emerge when ecosystems are deliberately corrupted—by capitalism, by militarism, by settler-colonial extractivism. Her analysis pierces through the sanitized myths of environmentalism that so often center purity and whiteness, exposing instead how the state and corporations like Hughes Aircraft weaponize pollution, ableism, and racism to obscure culpability. These “slow violences” aren’t accidents, she insists. They’re choices—efficient and profitable ones—that disable both landscapes and lives with devastating permanence.
Through vivid storytelling and archival rigor, Taylor dismantles the artificial line between human and environment. She reminds us that aquifers are living bodies too—porous, vast, and full of memory. Her exploration of the O’odham people’s relationship to the land, of monocropping and eugenics, and of the weaponization of “health” against BIPOC communities, insists that healing must be collective, ecological, and rooted in justice.
This book aches with rage, but also with clarity and care. Taylor doesn’t just document harm—she insists on responsibility. She offers a fierce call for an “environmentalism of the injured,” one that centers interdependence over individualism, and truth over institutional denial. Disabled Ecologies is a luminous, unflinching testament to the fact that our bodies are not separate from the world—they are shaped by it, harmed by it, and, with enough will, capable of transforming it.
📖 Read this if you love: eco-crip theory, abolitionist environmentalism, slow violence narratives, or the works of Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha.
🔑 Key Themes: Environmental Racism and Ableism, State Negligence and Corporate Harm, Disability and Ecological Entanglement, Collective Care and Interdependence, Capitalism and Contamination.
March 4, 2025
Reading Disabled Ecologies: Lessons from a Wounded Desert by Sunaura Taylor was a deeply transformative experience. Taylor masterfully weaves personal narratives with academic insights, taking me on a journey that fundamentally altered my perspective on both the environment and disability.
Taylor’s book investigates the pollution of an aquifer beneath Tucson, Arizona, caused by a post-war Superfund site. She reveals how this contamination has affected the predominantly Mexican-American community living above it. Her personal connection to this wounded landscape serves as a guiding thread in her exploration of ‘disabled ecologies’—networks of both human and non-human impairments that emerge when ecosystems are corrupted and profoundly altered.
What struck me most was Taylor’s ability to make complex concepts accessible. She introduces the idea that both human bodies and environments suffer damage from the same forces and can be healed through the same ideals. This perspective encourages solidarity between ourselves and the natural world to which we are inextricably connected.
Taylor’s personal involvement in the subject matter adds a layer of authenticity to her argument. Her lived experience with disability and her connection to the damaged Tucson landscape provide an emotional depth rarely found in academic works. This personal lens strengthens her call for an inclusive approach to environmental justice, one that centers the voices of marginalized communities.
Disabled Ecologies has deepened my understanding of the relationship between environmental degradation and physical disabilities. The book challenges readers to reconsider how we treat both our natural surroundings and the people who inhabit them. It is a call to action and reflection, and it has permanently shaped my perspective on environmental justice and inclusivity.
Taylor’s book investigates the pollution of an aquifer beneath Tucson, Arizona, caused by a post-war Superfund site. She reveals how this contamination has affected the predominantly Mexican-American community living above it. Her personal connection to this wounded landscape serves as a guiding thread in her exploration of ‘disabled ecologies’—networks of both human and non-human impairments that emerge when ecosystems are corrupted and profoundly altered.
What struck me most was Taylor’s ability to make complex concepts accessible. She introduces the idea that both human bodies and environments suffer damage from the same forces and can be healed through the same ideals. This perspective encourages solidarity between ourselves and the natural world to which we are inextricably connected.
Taylor’s personal involvement in the subject matter adds a layer of authenticity to her argument. Her lived experience with disability and her connection to the damaged Tucson landscape provide an emotional depth rarely found in academic works. This personal lens strengthens her call for an inclusive approach to environmental justice, one that centers the voices of marginalized communities.
Disabled Ecologies has deepened my understanding of the relationship between environmental degradation and physical disabilities. The book challenges readers to reconsider how we treat both our natural surroundings and the people who inhabit them. It is a call to action and reflection, and it has permanently shaped my perspective on environmental justice and inclusivity.
April 25, 2025
Disabled Ecologies is a book that belongs in every single school library. I would argue it deserves its own class centered around its lessons in ecological health, disability, and the history of the TCE Tuscon pollution incident.
I would be willing to bet that most Arizona natives, other than the ones who were directly affected by the pollution ,have no idea that Tuscon has been harmed in such a way. The city now sits on top of multiple altered aquifers. The chemical, TCE, flowed through the grounds and poisoned so many impoverished Mexican-Americans as well as the native Ameircan tribe who made home in Tuscon. The polluters and colluders, namely Hughes Aircraft company and the near entire legislation in AZ, actively lied, dismissed and stalled against those directly affected by the TCE in the groundwater.
This book tells their tale. This book draws attention to the ways in which our views of environmental and human health have deviated despite being enmeshed. It draws attention to a commonly misunderstood concept of ecological racism and how it further hurts everyone: human and more-than-human. It touches on a subject everyone could stand to learn more about: disability. I don't refer to disability in just the human sense. Disability in terms of our whole world.
I feel altered by this book in a profound way. I hope that this book winds up in everyone's hands.
I would be willing to bet that most Arizona natives, other than the ones who were directly affected by the pollution ,have no idea that Tuscon has been harmed in such a way. The city now sits on top of multiple altered aquifers. The chemical, TCE, flowed through the grounds and poisoned so many impoverished Mexican-Americans as well as the native Ameircan tribe who made home in Tuscon. The polluters and colluders, namely Hughes Aircraft company and the near entire legislation in AZ, actively lied, dismissed and stalled against those directly affected by the TCE in the groundwater.
This book tells their tale. This book draws attention to the ways in which our views of environmental and human health have deviated despite being enmeshed. It draws attention to a commonly misunderstood concept of ecological racism and how it further hurts everyone: human and more-than-human. It touches on a subject everyone could stand to learn more about: disability. I don't refer to disability in just the human sense. Disability in terms of our whole world.
I feel altered by this book in a profound way. I hope that this book winds up in everyone's hands.
August 25, 2024
I’ve been a fan of Sunaura Taylor’s since Beasts of Burden came out. I am a disabled person not formally trained on disability studies, but I hoard books on the topic. Taylor’s books always bring a perspective to the table that I hadn’t considered or encountered anywhere else, and she manages to weave together concepts that previously seemed incompatible (like, how do we honor the fact that illness is caused by environmental damage, but not recreate some of the ableism present in the environmental justice movement?) Since I read Beasts of Burden a couple of years ago, I’ve thought about the concepts at least once a week— and I predict that this book will remain on my mind in the same way, and impact others’ ideas on what a disability-informed environmental justice movement looks like.
December 16, 2024
A minion of Donna Haraway.
Hyper-connectivity had at least been scholarly dominant for the past 10 years, and had shown its ineffectiveness. We must stop chanting and abusing whatever it means to be “interconnected.”
Taylor is a great writer but should NOT have positioned herself with Haraway-Latour-Morton’s paradigm so obsessively.
This book should not contribute to her tenure. Hope that she can speak for her self, in her own tongue after getting tenure.
One day she will look back at this book and be somewhat unsatisfied. Her students will likely dig this work up and consider this to be her strategic safe play for getting tenure.
Hyper-connectivity had at least been scholarly dominant for the past 10 years, and had shown its ineffectiveness. We must stop chanting and abusing whatever it means to be “interconnected.”
Taylor is a great writer but should NOT have positioned herself with Haraway-Latour-Morton’s paradigm so obsessively.
This book should not contribute to her tenure. Hope that she can speak for her self, in her own tongue after getting tenure.
One day she will look back at this book and be somewhat unsatisfied. Her students will likely dig this work up and consider this to be her strategic safe play for getting tenure.
December 15, 2025
Essential reading for the desert southwest, and Arizona in particular. Taylor's research is impeccable, and I admired her creative approaches to explaining illusive concepts around hydrology and the water table through illustration. A widely respected figure in Tucson, and one who is clear about her networks of community, research and mentorship. I found the prose to be less engaging than many of the anthropologists and other authors she references (in particular Donna Harraway and Anna Tsing,) but those are also difficult writers to match! Military corporations and the public military that bails them out can rot in hell.
August 2, 2024
Highly recommended for anybody seeking to more deeply understand the connections and nuances between environmental harm, environmental justice, critical disability perspectives. This book grapples thoughtfully with how to position disability as a source of knowledge, community, and inter-relatedness to the environment while also acknowledging the role grave social and environmental harm often plays in the “origin stories” of disabled people.
This book is so needed, is wonderfully nuanced, and was beautifully written. This book knocked it out of the park.
This book is so needed, is wonderfully nuanced, and was beautifully written. This book knocked it out of the park.
September 11, 2025
Avoids jargon but still wildly dense and academic; was not expecting that, which is my bad for not fully knowing what I was getting myself into.
Nonetheless, I really enjoyed the book! I learned a lot about Tucson’s south side residents and desert ecologies (and a lot about aquifers!). I really loved the importance that Taylor placed on the relationships between capitalism, colonialism, racism, and ableism - I think ableism is often forgotten as part of that equation.
I saw some reviews mentioning that they wish she had more stories from folks in the south side and I both agree and disagree - I think more firsthand accounts, even if from other research and interviews, would be so profound but I also sincerely respect the decision to not poke folks who have spent their whole lives having other folks make them share their stories again and again.
Nonetheless, I really enjoyed the book! I learned a lot about Tucson’s south side residents and desert ecologies (and a lot about aquifers!). I really loved the importance that Taylor placed on the relationships between capitalism, colonialism, racism, and ableism - I think ableism is often forgotten as part of that equation.
I saw some reviews mentioning that they wish she had more stories from folks in the south side and I both agree and disagree - I think more firsthand accounts, even if from other research and interviews, would be so profound but I also sincerely respect the decision to not poke folks who have spent their whole lives having other folks make them share their stories again and again.
October 6, 2024
Especially chapters 2, 3, and 4.
Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews