Crip Doula Note #2
Silence in the Margins
This year, I decided to intentionally carve out some time for myself. Last year was extremely difficult and traumatic for me, and my self-esteem took a massive hit.
As public as I have been about the harm that I’ve experienced in movement spaces, it took me a while to understand that every time I share about my experiences, it makes me more susceptible as well. It’s hard to fathom that there are people in movement spaces we build relationships with that can have ulterior motives. It’s especially hard to fathom that people actively seek out others in these spaces to take advantage of.
This is what happened with my last job.
The levels of anti-Blackness, misogynoir, and ableism that I experienced within a “disability justice” organization (not to mention one that I worked at for 4 years), mentally fucked me up. The lack of solidarity from other disabled employees due to the vulnerable positions that all of us were in, was enough to be abandoned. All of the people I worked with who said my presence and practices helped shape their politics, left me high and dry. For all of the conversations that we had about disability justice and labor organizing, and disability solidarity…
it always seems to fall apart when anti-Blackness is at the core.
I’ve been silent on this for quite some time, and while I am not ready to share more about what happened to me last year, I will say that I wrestled for a long time — “what was the point?”
When I speak out about abusers, or fascists in our communities, I am often left standing by myself. Maybe a small minority come together after I say something, but it’s still a lonely position to be in. What I offer, however meaningful it may be, never seems to be enough to yield material support. There are people in movement spaces who gatekeep resources from Black queer and trans disabled folks because we are The Negro Problem. Those of us who speak up about harm and abuse in our communities are the ones who wind up being isolated and further marginalized. It doesn’t make any sense, and when we name these contradictions, reactionaries will try to wield abuse tactics against us by telling us that we aren’t “going about it the right way.”
What is the point of continuing to intervene in harm, when communities would rather you didn’t say anything about it in the first place? Small wins may occur privately, but publicly, abusers are winning the narrative with DARVO tactics. What does the truth matter, when an abuser with 30,000 followers can assassinate my character and receive sympathy?
Existing in a world where I have to be mindful about how I come across, because my emotions can be weaponized against me, is demoralizing.
When people like me, who do what I do, are forced into silence due to the lack of support — our communities are worse off.
The grifters, abusers, and opportunists know this, which is why things are the way that they are. Transplants will come into our communities, price us out, co-opt our movement spaces, then call us opps for challenging their fascist tendencies. Three months ago, I was ridiculed for naming that the way I pushed back on Zoe Fuad’s reactionary spew was an embodied decolonial practice as a Black New Yorker. When you look around Brooklyn though, what do you see? 🧐
People love the theory, but struggle when they see the practices happening outside of the ways that they envisioned. Black madness exists within so many constraints that sometimes, I have a difficult time figuring out how to make progress on projects that are so close to my heart. Having my work stolen to the point where I am no longer proud of it, shouldn’t happen. Nevertheless, that is what I am up against.
If you’ve been waiting for me to offer a sharp perspective around something, I appreciate your patience.
I maintain that I have little to offer so long as other Black mad folks in my community are suffering.
My capacity remains with trying to create alternative pathways towards securing material resources for my community. All that I can ask is for you to become a paid subscriber, send a tip or something! When you think about how awful the economy is, please consider how further marginalized Black disabled people are faring. I currently receive $281 on unemployment and have been suffering in silence for a while. If you have the means, please pour into my cup so that I can continue supporting my community in kind.