Disability Community Quotes

“When I'm talking about disabled writing and the struggles to create spaces for disabled literature—in talks, to other crip writers, to whoever—I tell the story a lot about the fight I got into with an editor in the last weeks before Care Work was going to the printer, where I insisted that the BISAC codes (the codes on the back of the books that tell booksellers what section to place them in) on the back read Disability Studies / Disability Justice / Queer Studies when she wanted them to read Social Studies / Health / Queer Studies. The editor's response was dismissive: "Well, we do have to go with the official BISAC codes," (note: there is one for Disability Studies, and has been for decades), "and I've never seen a disabled section in a bookstore—have you?

Of course I had. Modern Times Books, where I was the events coordinator (and cashier) from 2009 to 2011 had one and was known for it. Third Place Books, Left Bank Books, and Elliot Bay Books—my three favorite bookstores in my current city of Seattle—all have robust disability sections and Queer Disability special displays. Anjula Gogia, who ran the Toronto Women's Bookstore for decades, confirmed that they'd had a disability section since the 1980s and it was always one of their best-selling sections.

I fought back, pulled the white crip guy (friend) card, and was like, ELI CLARE HAS DISABILITY STUDIES / ACTIVISM ON THE BACK OF BRILLIANT IMPERFECTION. IF HE CAN DO IT, SO CAN I. I DO NOT WANT MY BOOK NEXT TO THE GOUT CURES. We compromised on "disability studies / queer studies.

Four years later, Poets.org would ask me to curate a disability justice poets folio for their 2022 theme of "Poetry and Disability Justice." It was a wonderful task, and I ran into the reality that Poets.org, like most poetry databases, didn't have "disability" or "disabled poets" or "Deaf poets" as keywords. As with most poetry databases, the closest you get is "illness" or "the body." Something as simple as having "disability," "disabled poets," and "Deaf poets" as keywords or search terms allows us to find each other, to come together, for disabled and Deaf people searching for words to illuminate our experiences and create a community to find them.”
― Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs

“I thought of Care Work as a community in your pocket when you have no crip friends or you are all alone, as so often we are. I have written or co-created nine books, but it wasn't until my fourth book that I started writing unapologetically about disability. It still felt like a risk. As a friend once said, "Everyone wants to write the poem that makes people go "yeah!" and pump their fist at the performance." So much of the time when I'd tried to write, or read poetry about being disabled, about being chronically ill, the opposite happened: instead of wild clapping and screaming, I got met with awkward silence, the nervous laughter, the "I'm not sure if it's OK to laugh," the #SadFace. If you wanted to be the best, to have people love your work, too often if felt like too much of a risk to write and perform crip work.

I was able to finally take that risk and write and perform and publish disabled poems in Bodymap, my third book of poetry, because of the collective work in disability justice writing and performance. Because of Sins Invalid and individual disabled BIPOC writers, because there was starting to be a movement of disabled writers and creators, queer and of color, who were creating space to do our work. I could believe there was an audience who was hungry for the work, and I got it. Without that, my writing would have stayed in my journal, stayed in the drafts that didn't make it into the books I published.”
― Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs