Black Disability Politics

by Sami Schalk

In Black Disability Politics Sami Schalk explores how issues of disability have been and continue to be central to Black activism from the 1970s to the present. Schalk shows how Black people have long engaged with disability as a political issue deeply tied to race and racism. She points out that this work has not been recognized as part of the legacy of disability justice and liberation because Black disability politics differ in language and approach from the mainstream white-dominant disability rights movement. Drawing on the archives of the Black Panther Party and the National Black Women’s Health Project alongside interviews with contemporary Black disabled cultural workers, Schalk identifies common qualities of Black disability politics, including the need to ground public health initiatives in the experience and expertise of marginalized disabled people so that they can work in antiracist, feminist, and anti-ableist ways. Prioritizing an understanding of disability within the context of white supremacy, Schalk demonstrates that the work of Black disability politics not only exists but is essential to the future of Black liberation movements.

Genres: Disability, Nonfiction, Politics, Race, History, Disability Studies, Social Justice

215 pages, Kindle Edition

Published August 8, 2022

About the author

Sami Schalk is an Assistant Professor of Gender & Women's Studies at University of Wisconsin- Madison. Her research focuses on disability, race, and gender in contemporary American literature and culture, especially African American literature, speculative fiction, and women writers. She identifies as a black queer cis woman.

Reviews

[zara · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really appreciated this book, and I enjoyed learning about the role of the Black Panther Party in resisting psychiatric abuse and about the healing justice approaches of the National Black Women’s Health Project. Schalk discusses the ways that Black disability politics has historically not explicitly centered around disability identity, and TL Lewis’s offerings to this book were, as always, so insightful: “Somewhere I have written that often our survival depends on not identifying as disabled; and in the historical context, for example, identifying as disabled meant forced familial separation… [W]hat white supremacy does is it removes the context for why things are happening and why people are behaving in particular ways.”

[Sarah Cavar · Rating 3 out of 5]

Schalk does amazing public history work here with her account of the BPP and Black feminist health/wellness movements and/ as manifestations of black disability politics. I also deeply appreciated her willingness to use interviews with disabled scholars outside the academy not as instances of “participant observation,” etc, but as moments of scholarly dialogue to be engaged with as scholarship, with respect and seriousness.

That said, Schalk’s approach to disability scholarship is also my big critique/disappointment with this book — namely, that Schalk’s engagement with current critical disability scholarly conversations, including the robust conversations happening at the nexus of Blackness and Madness, is incredibly thin and surface-level. I found myself searching for citations, or at least acknowledgments, that never came, and were replaced with highly generalized statements that do a disservice to critical race/disability discourse. While this book works as an invitation for those without a race/disability consciousness to learn more, it is missing a grounding literature / scaffolding.

I very very much wanted to love this book, and went in expecting to love it. I understand that BDP deliberately elides mainstream “scholarly” classification, too. Yet it’s brevity, combined with the absence of a theory/literature/methods section, makes me finish this work feeling a little empty and disappointed. I want to see Black Disability Politics thoroughly theorized and I don’t think that’s happened here yet.

[Gabriella · Rating 2 out of 5]

CW for book: psychiatric abuse and violence

I was unfortunately underwhelmed by this one! I knew this would be an academic book, but I still struggled with how much prelude there was to any real content. I think the whole first hour of the audiobook passed with Schalk merely outlining what she planned to say in later chapters. That’s a lot of time to talk about something that hasn’t happened yet!

The Black Panther Party and 504 Sit-In
Schalk’s first case study is about how the Black Panther Party supported disability justice movements during its the final years of activity. This was the late 1970s, a time when many people considered the party to be “over” because its members were mostly women and many chapters had faced severe repression. Schalk notes that many people underappreciate the work that still took place during this period, including the continuation of the BPP’s survival programs, which were essential for their support of disabled activists in California.

The Panthers’ experience in free food programs allowed them to meaningfully support the 1977 sit-in protest to implement Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act (a precursor to the ADA). While disabled demonstrators including BPP member Brad Lomax occupied a federal health building in San Francisco, other party members provided hundreds of daily meals during the 28-day demonstration. This sort of response was made possible by the party’s commitment to care work and alignment with disabled activists, something often spearheaded by women in the party. Schalk also notes that Lomax played an essential role in connecting the party with the local disability justice movement, though as a rank-and-file member, he is not mentioned as frequently in histories of the party.

Other examples of the BPP integrating disability justice politics into their work included the expansion of the Ten Point Program to include free healthcare, and their fights against the psychiatric abuse of people held in both prisons and mental hospitals. Schalk did criticize some of the language used in this fight, noting the importance of framing oppression as the problem, not disability.

The National Black Women’s Health Project
I found the case study on the National Black Women’s Health Project to be even more interesting. I hadn’t previously heard of this organization, but really enjoyed learning about them, including through this article on group’s inaugural conference in 1983. According to Schalk, the NBWHP practiced Black disability politics by establishing peer support groups for health issues; publishing culturally relevant guidance on holistic health, spirituality, and healing; and providing AIDS education to Black women. As someone in the affordable housing world, I was particularly moved by the group’s work in public housing communities in Atlanta and Chester, PA (more on that in this oral history interview.) Schalk notes that the NBWHP’s self-help groups allowed participants to become authorities on their health conditions, instead of reinforcing the “doctor knows best” hierarchy that harms many disabled people.

Schalk emphasizes the particular impact of NBWHP’s work around HIV and AIDS, because at the time of their work, many AIDS activist groups were overwhelmingly white. Even more, the mainstream disability community often sidelined AIDS and other conditions associated with “personal failure”, drug use, poverty, and/or oppressed people. Thus, the NBWHP’s work became even more essential for filling these gaps. By going beyond safe sex lessons and addressing sexual coercion and general relational harm, the NBWHP created health programming that spoke to the realities of Black women’s lives.

Schalk’s criticism of the NBWHP mostly focused on their AIDS prevention work. Prevention-alone education often returns to the issue of framing disability as a scare tactic or a punishment for misbehavior. Black disability justice frameworks, Schalk argues, would require any prevention work to also include services for people who already live with a certain condition. Like with the BPP criticisms, all this seems to return to us not treating disability as the end of someone’s world, but instead as a reason to remake our existing world.

Contemporary Black Disability Politics
I had a lot more hope for the last section of this book, where Schalk claimed she would showcase 21st-century disability justice activists. I was especially excited when I saw that Vilissa Thompson would be included in this chapter, as I really enjoyed her guest episode on the Inner Hoe Uprising podcast many years back. (She is also from South Carolina, like me!!! 😊) Unfortunately, we just didn’t hear much from all of the really impressive people who were interviewed for this book.

I think what I wanted out of this chapter was something this book wasn’t designed to do. I wanted in-depth information about the dynamics each person briefly mentioned, maybe through an actual collection of their remarks? I just felt like there could’ve been so much space given to the actual “how” of modern Black disability politics, but that was mostly glossed over in Schalk’s work. To be fair, there were helpful notes on the importance of widening the tent of disability without forcing a label, and on some interviewees’ connections of their Blackness and disability. I just wanted more detail and time with this information, and instead felt like we got a hasty chapter that was an unfair teaser of what could have been.

Final Thoughts
I would recommend this book to academics, or people interested in the history of the Black Panther Party and the National Black Women’s Health Project. For the rest of us, I just don’t know. I won’t say I didn’t learn things here, but I just wanted so much more. If she, or someone else, ever releases a collection of interviews/personal essays from the interviewees, I will be first in line. Until then, I don’t plan to read another full-length book from this author…

[Stefani · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really thoughtful, intersectional analysis. Rooted in the praxis of radical community care and self-care.

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked up this book because as a reporter, I’ve covered disability justice in many parts of country. But I haven’t spent much time covering the intersectionality of disability. Or so I thought. As the book points out, many of the health disparities we see in the Black community — diabetes, asthma, chronic illnesses — are not studied within the disability rights movement within a framework of disability politics in the Black community. I’ve covered these health disparities, but hadn’t spent much time diving deeper into disability politics and a more expansive definition of disability.

I wish I’d been able to spend more time with this book and this topic. I’d love to study it for a full semester or more. As a white person, this book wasn’t written for me (the author says so herself), but I still think it’s an important topic to understand more, as I make editorial decisions in how the media reports on disability politics.

Notes for myself: I didn’t know about the HEW occupation in 1977 or the Black Panther Party’s involvement in the sit-in, which appears to have been largely ignored by history, despite many examples of supporting the movement.

—How state violence was continued against Black people in the form of psychiatric abuse, especially among incarcerated people. Psychiatric drugs were used in prisons as a means of control. It was horrifying to read about how the criteria for schizophrenia was changed to associate it with Black men, specifically those involved in the civil rights movement.

—I appreciated the analysis of modern media reporting on police violence and disability.

—there are many reasons why a Black person might not identify as disabled. The book cites reasons like avoiding familial separation and how white supremacy plays a role in not wanting to identify as disabled.

Notable quotes: “disability studies has long acknowledged it has a race problem, but Black studies has been far less likely to address its own ableism.”

“Politics so not stand in polar opposition to our lives. Whether we desire it or not, they permeate our existence, insinuating themselves into the most private spaces of our lives.” -Angela Y Davis, “Sick and tired of being sick and tried: the politics of Black Women’s Health.”

“What makes ableism so dangerous is it’s fluidity and ability to morph. It’s like a chameleon… it morphs into whatever the system needs it to be yo perpetuate the violence or deprivation that is being produced.” TL Lewis


I’d like to learn more about HIV/AIDS and Black disability politics. The chapter on that issue looks at it primarily through a Black feminist perspective, and I’d like to read more about the AIDS crisis through the lens of Black gay men.

[Wade Winter · Rating 5 out of 5]

I bought two more copies of this book to donate to my school district, one is going to a special educator and the other to the school board chair. I want and hope they will pass on the books because I wish for the lessons and information to be spread through our community. I’m keeping my copy for myself to be able to share with people in my future.

I started this review with that because I truly believe in the work that Schalk is doing to view disability from a holistic and empowering perspective.

I should acknowledge that I am white, and donating copies to a very predominately white community. This book is written for Black people, and especially Black disabled people, and Schalk invites people of other races, including white people, to learn more so as spectators. The immense value that I think white people can get from reading this is learning about the experiences of the most oppressed groups of people, and being able to understand from a political point of view how they are being harmed, and how they are and have been fighting back. This is important because as white people we can be incorporating what Schalk teaches about disability into our daily lives, work, and community, while also listening to Black disabled people and not taking their space to lead.

This book is a great introduction to seeing what disability really means, and is an easy read that should be read by everyone, and case studies from it even taught in classes.

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great stuff but I wish this book went deeper! Nothing in here will be novel or mindblowing to readers familiar with the work of Sins Invalid and Patty Berne, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, adrianne marie brown, etc. but it's still very worth reading. About two thirds of the text is an analysis of disability issues addressed by the Black Panther Party and National Black Women's Health Project, and the last third is an exploration of contemporary Black disability politics through interviews with Black disabled artists and cultural workers. This book is written in a way that is very accessible to mainstream audiences which I appreciate. I would also love a "5 year post-publication" analysis focusing on Black disability politics and the covid pandemic- there's a lot to say. 

[Sabrina]

Dnf at 32% on August 15th (2025), mainly because my library loan expired, but I also don’t think I’ll continue it. The author spent a big part of the beginning introducing the book, while I wished she would actually start it

[Isabelle Leventhal · Rating 5 out of 5]

Quick and engaging read. Love a book that deepens my understanding and challenges my thought processes.

[Marisa Schuldes · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5!!! I feel like a bit much of it is focused on language which is a real and true avenue I just get fatigued LMAO.
Very very very very good obviously

[are_see_em · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.25

[Stephanie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was really amazing and did such a great job of contextualizing and teaching about the history of black disability politics, critiquing them framed in a way of how we can do better today, and then discuss present day black disability politics.

I learned so much! Definitely recommend this read

[Hilary · Rating 5 out of 5]

[Thank you Duke University Press for the gifted copy, out Oct 31]

BLACK DISABILITY POLITICS begins: “This is a book written for Black people, especially Black disabled people…If you are a non-Black person, imagine that you have just walked into my living room, where I’m having a conversation with my Black family and friends.” I feel humbled to listen in, for this invitation to finish this book and consider all the ways disability has played unnamed and undervalued roles in movements in my own communities, and to, first and foremost, center the contributions by Black disabled activists (especially Black feminist activists) that are often erased or ignored by white disability movements.

Schalk notes key qualities of Black disability politics: intersectional but race centered, not necessarily based in disability identity, contextualized and historicized, and holistic. Through examples from the 1970s to the present, Schalk demonstrates these qualities in action: the Black Panther Party, for instance, held a radical ideology that often included anti-ableist goals such as supporting the 504 sit-in and protesting psychiatric abuse, and the National Black Women’s Health Project engaged directly and indirectly with disability and its physical and spiritual relationship to Black female bodyminds. Crucial to the inclusion of disability is the multiply-marginalized Black bodymind—ableism, racism, sexism, and all forms of oppression experienced by Black people are inextricably tangled.

Movements are never perfect, Schalk notes. She respectfully critiques and analyzes ableist elements of these organizations without invalidating any of their contributions. These are presented as a chance to learn and grow, to continue towards a framework that frees all marginalized people. We are asked to consider: How can we heal populations debilitated by war, climate change, and state violence without portraying disability as tragic? How can we continue to make our movements more inclusive? How can we learn from the work done by past and present day Black disabled activists?

A crucial and necessary read. Please, please read this and Schalk’s first book: BODYMINDS REIMAGINED ♥️

[Daphne · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book has it all. Engagements with The Black Panthers, HIV/AIDS, Antipsychiatry, The Feminist Health Movement, et cetera.

The first four chapters focus on Black History from the late 60s — 90s and as such I think is required reading for anyone interested in the long ‘68, feminist history, or lesser known histories of The Black Panther Party.

This book is not a history book though, rather Schalk elucidates Black Disability Politics as a method for doing political theory that seeks to dismantle oppressive and achieve collective liberation.

Chapter 2 — “Fighting Psychiatric Abuse: The BPP and The Black Disability Politics of Mental and Carceral Institutions” particularly stood out to me for the ways that it engages with Abolitionist histories and makes clear the intersections between Prisons, Hospitals, Nursing Homes, and Psych Wards.

[Andrea · Rating 4 out of 5]

The beginning of this book is dense, wordy, and challenging and would benefit from concrete examples. But once you get through the first 30 pages and into Chapter 1, text provides strong examples of intersecting systems of oppression, the
history of black disability movement,
erasure of disability from black liberation movement and the exclusion of Black people from mainstream disability movement. This book creates great context for understanding liberation while also lifting up abelist accountability as well as a call for action.

[Katelyn · Rating 5 out of 5]

A must-read for anyone engaging in disability and/or social justice work, or anyone interested in learning more about what black disability work has looked like in the past and present. I will be cherishing this book for awhile. ❤️

[Etienne RP · Rating 2 out of 5]

Black Disabled Lives Matter

“This is a book written for Black people, especially Black disabled people.” Faced with this strong message in the introduction, the reader cannot help but ask questions. Who wrote this book, and for what purposes? Who shall read it, and to what ends? The author’s answer to the first question is straightforward: Sami Schalk identifies herself as “a fat Black queer disabled woman,” or “a Black person who seeks to avenge the suffering of my ancestors and to earn the respect of future generations.” Her goal is to understand how Black people have addressed disability as a political concern, and to develop Black disability politics as a tool and as a weapon in the fight for recognition and justice. She turns to history “because it benefits us as Black people to know and learn from what our ancestors did, to understand and honor them, and to continue their legacy of finding liberation.” Regarding the second question, the answer is even more blunt: Black readers are welcome. This book was written for them, especially for Black disabled people. As for non-Black persons, they are asked not to intrude into the conversation, for this book is not for or about them. The author makes an exception for “disabled people of color, disabled queer people, and disabled queer people of color”: even if they are not Black, the combination of traits that marginalizes them at multiple levels gives them a seat in the conversation about disability justice and collective liberation. But beware: white disabled persons should not confiscate the conversation, for their advocacy of disability rights has often led to the exclusion of people of color, queer people, or otherwise marginalized persons. Especially if you are white, living with disability does not give you the privilege to speak on behalf of other disabled persons.

A conversation about disability and Blackness

Black Disability Politics starts from the premise that “disability, as an identity, an experience, and a political category, has been conceptualized and approached differently by Black activists and intellectuals than by white activists and intellectuals.” There is something in Black disability that makes it different from disability without qualifier. Black disability has to be understood within the context of white supremacy. Even in the legal and medical sense, Black disabled persons are not equivalent to white disabled ones. Disabilities more common in rich white families are more likely to receive legal and medical recognition, while the types of disability more common in poor and racialized communities may not fit into legal and medical definitions of disability. In addition, “we cannot understand Black disability politics without engaging histories of anti-Black violence, scientific and medical racism, health disparities, health activism and environmental racism.” This makes the fight against ableism align with denunciations of racism, sexism, homophobia, classism, and fatfobia. The author points out “the whiteness and racism of the disability rights movement and disability studies as a field,” which often excludes or alienates Black disabled people. She defines the key principles around which Black disability politics is built: it has to be “intersectional but race centered” (race trumps other factors as it combines with them); not necessarily based on disability identity (unlike the white-dominated disability rights movement); contextualized and historicized (the book presents itself as a first step into that direction); centered on those most impacted by discrimination and injustice (i.e. multiply marginalized disabled people); holistic (the author believes in the “bodymind” literature); and action oriented (“I do not believe in knowledge for the sake of knowledge”). The reason Black disability politics, or the combination of critical race studies and disability studies, didn’t appear sooner as a discipline and as a social movement is because the few voices that have connected disability justice and Black liberation have been consistently ignored, overlooked, or other wise silenced by a white-dominated disability rights’ paradigm.

The book explores how Black people have engaged with disability as a social and political concern through delving into the history of two institutions: the Black Panther Party, or BPP, and the National Black Women’s Health Project, of NBWHP. To many, the Black Panther Party conjures up a hypermasculine image of Black men in leather coats and berets carrying shotguns. Yet for the bulk of its existence, and especially after 1972, the BPP had a majority of women in its membership, and many women featured prominently in its leadership. The BPP had a stated policy of gender equality from its outset, in stark contrast with many leftist groups at the time. While the role of women in the BPP and the Black struggle more broadly has been highlighted by recent scholarship, the same isn’t true of people with disabilities. The same prejudice that identifies Black Panthers with hyper macho men applies to its alleged ableism and neglect of disability rights. Surely a group that advocated armed self-defense and class struggle couldn’t open its ranks broadly to persons impaired in their ability to fight and to parade. Sami Schalk wants to correct this misperception and testify that disabled persons, and disability justice, indeed had a place in the concerns of the Black Panther movement. Exhibit #1 in this rehabilitation trial is a cover story of the weekly newspaper of the BPP dated May 7, 1977, and titled “HANDICAPPED WIN DEMANDS – END H.E.W. OCCUPATION.” The story that unfolds tells the involvement of the BPP in the “504 seat-in,” a nationwide protest in which people with disabilities and their supporters occupied federal buildings in order to push the issuance of long-delayed regulations regarding Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973. Based in Oakland, California, the BPP apparently provided support to the San Francisco seat-in in the form of free meals for the 150 people involved and, as the magazine title testifies, a press release. In addition, two BPP members, one of them in a wheelchair, participated in the occupation of the Department of Health, Education and Welfare (HEW) in San Francisco and appeared on the article’s photo illustration.

Exhibits and posters

Exhibit #2 advanced by Sami Schalk to support the Panthers’ Black disability politics is the Panther-supported Oakland Community School’s stated policy of openness and inclusion “regardless of ability, ethnicity, or geographic location” (although the author couldn’t find any evidence that children with disabilities actually attended the school.) Another argument in the defense of the long-neglected disability politics of the Black Panther Party is the fight against the “medical and psychiatric industrial complexes” that made psychiatric abuse in mental and carceral institutions a pressing racial concern. Here again, exhibit #3 is composed of “numerous” press articles (thirteen in total) from the Black Panther weekly magazine that raised issues like forced pharmaceutical treatment, unpaid labor inside mental institutions, physical abuse in nursing homes, and involuntary commitment to state institutions. Another set of newspaper clips (exhibit #4) documents the use of psychiatric drugs in prisons as a means of control, while exhibit #5 consists of denunciations of the return of psychosurgery as a way to mitigate aggression and violence. A trial-within-the-trial, presented as a “praxis interlude,” takes issue with the ableist language and tropes used in some of the Black Panther magazine articles, such as the word vegetable to describe the potential result of psychosurgery and forced pharmaceutical treatment, or the presentation of disability and chronic illness as tragedies in need of prevention and eradication. Here the Black Panther activists are found guilty (“vegetable is used in a clearly ableist way”), but with extenuating circumstances (the term has to be placed “in its historical, medical, and linguistic context”) and they are released on parole provided they will use more proper language (alternative rhetoric and anti-ableist approaches are given.)

The author then turns to the National Black Women’s Health Project, a Black feminist health activist organization started in the early 1980s. Here, the tone is not judicial but celebratory: unlike the mock trial destined to rehabilitate the Black Panther Party’s disability politics from ignorance and neglect, the two chapters devoted to the NBWHP is an exhibition of Black women’s “empowerment through wellness.” Poster #1 in this celebratory exhibition analyzes Black feminist health activism as another prime example of Black disability politics, assessing how disability was explicitly and implicitly included within this collective’s holistic approach to health and wellness. Here the author is faced with a conundrum: she could find very few references to disability (and to the word “feminism”) in publications and internal documents of the NBWHP. But she sees this relative absence as a confirmation that Black disability politics is “intersectional but race centered, not based in disability identity.” Race and gender trump (dis)ability in the affirmation of a collective identity. The NBWHP insisted on the political nature of health and took a holistic approach that included disability in its definition of health and well-being. The self-help groups it organized were neither based in disability identity nor segregated by disability or health status (although they were segregated by race and gender: only Black women could attend.) Its publications addressed a wide variety of health and wellness problems, refusing to stigmatize or shame Black women for their health and promoting wellness for all (in a country where the majority of people don’t have social security.) It insisted on the emotional aspects of wellness and disease, and acknowledged the role of spirituality, faith, and religion in the lives of Black women (Amen to that!). For Sami Schalk, “the NBWHP was not a disability rights organization but a health organization that frequently acted in solidarity with disabled people in much of its work and included disabled people in leadership positions” (like many other health NGOs.)

HIV/AIDS is a disability

Poster #2 gets a little bit more specific on how the NBWHP provided support for people living with disability and chronic disease. The author performs a close analysis of the organization’s work on HIV/AIDS as a disability condition. The organization contributed to awareness and prevention through educational publications and campaigns taking into acount “the reality of Black women’s sexual lives.” It also provided material and emotional support for Black women living with HIV/AIDS (in the form of magazine articles and focus group discussions.) Here Sami Schalk is faced with a similar dilemma as in Poster #1: the programs focused on HIV/AIDS make no mention of disability at all. She nonetheless considers them a valid example of Black disability politics, and for three reasons. A chronic disease like HIV/AIDS is a disability condition, and is recognized as such under the American Disability Act (ADA). Even if a person doesn’t self-identify as disabled, she may be objectively included in the category. The distance or denial taken by some Black communities toward disability (the “Black disability consciousness gap”) can be explained by structural racism and the history of systemic oppression on the part of whites. Even so, the NBWHP is not without blame for keeping silent on HIV/AIDS as a disability issue and for failing to inform AIDS patients that they were eligible for support under the ADA. Again, in this mini-trial, NBWHP is deemed to have benefited from extenuating circumstances (there are “important historical and cultural reasons for that avoidance”) and is left with a prescription to encourage people to openly identify as disabled (even if they don’t have “a piece of paper to prove that”). To show that the lessons of the past are directly connected to the work of the present, Sami Schalk concludes Black Disability Politics by summarizing her interviews with eleven Black disabled activists and cultural workers whom she made provide feedback on the last chapter of her book (they were paid for their time), and four examples of contemporary instantiations of Black disability politics (a website, a book, another website, and another book.)

I feel uncomfortable in commenting this book. As a non-Black, non-disabled, non-academic, non-American, non-native speaker, I have the feeling I am intruding in a place where I don’t belong, and taking part in a conversation without a full understanding of its terms and stakes. And yet, Black Disability Politics is not a community blog or a restricted-access newsletter. It is published in an academic publishing house with an international distribution, its author presents herself as a scholar, and she wants a wide readership as she offers free access to the book through her webpage. I am therefore authorized to offer my five-cents comments for all it’s worth: if someone or something is intruding, it is this book that is trespassing into my favorite academic press series, not me. My first remark is that each time Sami Schalk uses the word Black (and she uses that word a lot), she should specify: Black American. Or maybe African American, or any other term that emphasizes geographical context. The USA is a country where, at any point in time, more than two million people find themselves behind bars; where most people don’t have social insurance; where life expectancy for men is inferior to Iran’s; and where there are more homicides in a day than in Japan during a whole year. African Americans are disproportionately represented in these categories (incarcerated, non-insured, premature deaths, authors or victimes of violent crimes.) This situation should inspire shame and a modicum of modesty to all Americans, regardless of race or political persuasion. Viewed from outside, the United States increasingly appears as a country you don’t want to deal with, and definitely not as a country that should give lessons to the rest of the world. Unfortunately, what happens in the US doesn’t stay in the US. The United States influences conversations globally, especially academic conversations or discussions that find their origins on American campuses. What goes around comes around: China’s propaganda apparatus has seemingly become an active supporter of the global Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement – mostly in the form of lambasting the US government and system. In France, conservative forces dismiss any discussion on racial justice or equal opportunity by invoking “wokeness” and the excesses of political correctness observed in the US. As much as Sami Schalk wants to restrict participation in the conversation she is establishing with Black activists and scholars in the United States, I don’t want Black Disability Politics to be part of the conversation about race, disability, and politics in France.

Activism as a vocation

My second remark is that Sami Schalk should take sides more clearly: does she write as a scholar or as an activist? Does she take science or politics as a vocation? The material she presents (what I called exhibits and posters) may be fit for a trial or an exhibition, but cannot pass any academic test in the social sciences. The author recognizes it herself: “Black disability politics refuses to be disciplined,” and breaks away “from the typical disciplinary academic monograph mode.” Mining the past and the present to find heroic ancestors and comrades-in-arms does not a history book make: legacy is not history, and the intention to “exalt,” “honor,” or “avenge” past figures is usually a bad start for writing history books. I personally think African Americans deserve a genuine historical narrative of their relationship with disability, not an hagiography that takes no account of the rules of the discipline. The role of the historian should not be to “draw lessons from the past” but study it as it was. He or she should refrain from two major sins: presentism, or the introduction of present-day ideas and perspectives into depictions or interpretations of the past; and taking the role of the judge, for history is not a courthouse or a trial. She should try to exploit a vast array of sources, including oral testimonies, community documents, and national archives, but she should also apply critical lenses to appreciate the veracity of the sources and not take testimonies at face value. When doing survey research, the important thing is not to obtain a waiver from an institutional review board, but to apply the tools and methods of the social sciences regarding sample selection, baseline or control group, questionnaire design, and textual analysis of responses. If the scholar wants to take the position of the political militant or the social activist (and she is perfectly free to do so), she should specify in each of her interventions in which capacity she is speaking. Readers may find such literature inspiring or uplifting, or they may prefer to turn to other narratives as a source of inspiration. Personally, I still find relief in the statements of Martin Luther King and in his “dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”

[Kiki Tapiero · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book made it clear to me: Anti-Blackness and racism are disabling; not supporting disability justice is thus racist. The author does a great job of dismantling the historical whiteness of disability spaces and disability history. The book describes ways the Black Panthers fought for disability justice - through the 504 sit in, establishing the Oakland Community school, public campaigns for individuals such as Louis Byers, and through the word of many leaders such as Brad Lomax. At times it felt like the book was glossing over some of the BPP's misogynist history, but I understand the focus on the amazing work they did do. The author also describes the National Black Women's Health Project's holistic work with AIDS that involved a shift of focus from a "cure" to prevention / support / de-stigmatization, spirituality, and the importance of culturally-based/culturally informed work. I also liked the discussion of the writing of both the BPP and NBWHP, and the images throughout the book. The author also discusses language, including the use of words like "inspiring" for disabled people, the over-medicalization of disability / Medical Genocide, the importance of taking on a politicized disabled identity, and critiquing the Vision for Black Lives from 2016. In short, disability justice is intertwined with abolishing capitalism and reminds me of discussions of community care and family abolition. Disability justice ensures that social changes are effective and lasting. A quote I liked - "If they'd take away the handicaps... then we wouldn't be handicapped." (34).

[Alex · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was mostly underwhelmed. I would have liked more information on how Schalk was teaching disability studies for a long time without realizing that mental illness and chronic illness make someone disabled. Was she alienating her mentally/chronically ill students or was she just applying that belief to herself? Mental/chronic illnesses being disabilities is not a new idea at all.

Also, just because mental and chronic illnesses are disabilities doesn't mean that the scholarship of severe disability should be set aside (not that there is much to begin with, this isn't a problem unique to Schalk). I would have liked to learn more about Lois Curtis, the person behind much of deinstitutionalization for people with developmental disabilities.

Criticism aside, there were several good sections bringing to light history that is under discussed. I also appreciate the push to see HIV/AIDS history as a disability movement.

[Amy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Insightful! I enjoyed the overview of a bit of historical activism and towards modern time, showing how black disability politics evolved. I appreciate the emphasis on intersectionality, that ableism and anti-blackness are working hand in hand as oppressions. Appreciate how she deconstructs more the invisible / internalized oppressions.

I do find there is a lot of preamble that is repeated (ex: explanation of organization of chapters) tho it could be a style of mapping out the reading better...

[zo:e · Rating 5 out of 5]

“first, the way disability has typically been used and defined does not align with the experiences and needs of Black people; and second, the goal is ultimately to provide bodymind liberation, safety, and care for everyone regardless of identity”

“life is not over or ruined once you become disabled or sick; the battle for health and wellness merely continues”

its hard for me to confront my own ableist tendencies, but this book made it easier.

[Turtle Head · Rating 4 out of 5]

A great contribution to the space of black and disability liberation.

I was almost turned off by the introduction which I found very academic and dry. In truth I found the writing style repetitive and difficult to connect with throughout, but glad I stuck it out and I encourage anyone facing a similar roadblock to as well.

[Hina Ansari · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was an excellent addition to my current investigation into racism and it’s intersection with disabilities. The author does a superb job of keeping the reader focused on various examples. I would be remiss if I didn’t highlight how just a week or so ago I’d finished reading medical apartheid, which is referenced here, but is a great companion book to this one.

[Patricia Coloma · Rating 5 out of 5]

As someone who has a disability it is really enriching to read about the communal political apparatus that multiple African American social groups have enacted. As a non- black disabled person who specializes in African American studies, Schalk's study is not only provocative but also well researched. It posits really good questions about intersectionality, identity, and praxis

[Laura Danger · Rating 5 out of 5]

An incredibly important read! The author's ability to provide history, analysis and approach complex topics with nuance and care are unparalleled. This book is incredibly rich with research and critical examination. Beautiful!

[Uhnooshay · Rating 4 out of 5]

there’s some academic stuff you can skip but the reintegration of disability justice into the narrative of the black organizing in the 70s~ is important to me and fruitful for anyone wanting to read more abt it

[Vera · Rating 5 out of 5]

“We get better only if we are willing to admit where we have gone wrong.”

Clear disclaimers of content, intentions and structure of claims. I learned a lot about the Black Panther Party and their support of disability and gay rights along with the impact of HIV/AIDS in the black women community.

[ASC Library]

362.4 Sch

[leigh walden · Rating 4 out of 5]

Challenging informative and world bending.

[Marie Patlan · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars, rounded down