As we head into Thanksgiving, I’ve begun my annual ritual of sifting through this complicated holiday. On the one hand, this day holds a special place in my family’s annual calendar, as it’s the one time we all get together—grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins across four generations—there are sometimes as many as 70 of us, and I have to admit, it’s glorious chaos. We’ve also managed to move the holiday away from its American colonialist roots, my father opening the festivities with a prayer from the Quran, and weaving South Asian dishes in with the traditional Thanksgiving fare.
As much joy as this holiday brings for my own family, I can’t help but feel conflicted about pausing to celebrate the colonization of native lands by white European settlers, who wrought centuries of murder, forced labor, and brutality. Settlers who used manufactured science in the form of eugenics to construct racist and ableist systems to punish and exclude BIPOC and disabled communities. How do we hold these truths along with the gratitude we are supposed to observe?
Earlier this month, our country and the world lost Lois Curtis—the named plaintiff in the landmark Supreme Court case, Olmstead v. L.C. It is because of Lois’s bravery and perseverance that disabled people can live in their communities, free from institutions as their right under the Americans with Disabilities Act. Though I wish we lived in a world where Lois never had to fight for her liberty, I am grateful for her and the path to collective liberation for disabled people that she helped to carve.
And I am grateful for the brilliant organizing of disabled indigenous people who battle every day to protect and preserve their lands from colonial extraction and environmental degradation that exacerbates and creates disability in their community. I’m grateful for the disabled immigrants who insist that they deserve a place inside our borders, regardless of how much their bodies can produce in the capitalist machine. It’s my deepest wish that my gratitude was unnecessary, and that these battles never had to be fought, but if I can muster any thanksgiving during this complicated time of year, all of it belongs to BIPOC disabled people who have never been handed what was rightfully theirs without struggle.
With that, I wish all of you rest, peace, and an opportunity to reflect on what makes you grateful this month.
Building Your Knowledge
Here are three articles that elevate BIPOC voices I’m grateful for this month.
Lois Curtis on Life After Olmstead (Institute on Community Integration)
This is a beautiful conversation with Lois Curtis, where she describes her life after the Olmstead decision in her own words. I’ll leave you with some of those words—and Lois’s hope for the lives of all those who have been protected from institutionalization as the result of her efforts:I hope they live long lives and have their own place. I hope they make money. I hope they learn every day. I hope they meet new people, celebrate their birthdays, write letters, clean up, go to friends’ houses and drink coffee. I hope they have a good breakfast every day, call people on the phone, feel safe.
Indigenous People with Disabilities Are on the Front Lines of the Climate Crisis (TruthOut)
There are approximately 360 million indigenous people across the globe, comprising 5% of the world population. Though data is limited, some estimates suggest that, in some countries as much as 50% of indigenous populations are disabled. In many instances, these disabilities have emerged as the direct result of colonial extraction on native lands to exploit fuel and other natural resources. As such, disabled indigenous peoples are directly impacted by the consequences of this extraction from the natural world, and deserve a seat at the table when it comes to combating climate change.Decolonization as a Strategy for Accommodating Disabilities (Disability Visibility Project)
R. Setzer is an indigenous artist and activist. They wrote this moving piece for the Disability Visibility Project blog about the power of decolonization as a tool for dismantling ableism. R. considers and lifts up the everyday acts we all can engage in to fight the homogenizing and devaluing effects of capitalism and settler colonialism. This includes commitment to serving our communities; to giving and receiving care; and valuing the body-minds of each individual, regardless of whatever accommodations and support they may need to exist in this world.
Taking Action
Order Sami Schalk’s new book, Black Disability Politics. This is a deep dive into the role that Black disabled folks and disability issues have played in the struggle for social, political, and economic liberation for Black communities.
Check out this fact sheet to learn more about the particular challenges and barriers that disabled indigenous women face around the globe.
Follow and support Vanessa Dion Fletcher, a Lenape and Potawatomi neurodiverse artist who explores how we define bodies, both physically and culturally, through mixed medium art and performance.
Thanks for reading our newsletter this month. We’re hard at work on Season 6 and excited to share updates with you all very soon! Please feel free to share your thoughts, feedback, and ideas in the comments or email us at downtothestruts@gmail.com. We’ll be back in your inboxes next month with more news from the podcast and the disability community!
In solidarity,
Qudsiya