The Unwritten
Picture the scene. You’re on a bus. You’ve got your headphones on and you’re in your own little world, enjoying the trip. The bus slows and pulls up to a bus stop where a wheelchair user is waiting to board. How do you feel?
If you’re me, your heart drops.
Because I’m already sitting, in my wheelchair, occupying the only spot that a wheelchair user can use, and I know that they are going to get denied access to the bus because I’m already there. The guilt is horrific.
“Another reason I struggled to identify as gay was the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. The Mardi Gras was the first introduction to my people,” explained Hannah Gadsby in her 2020 Netflix special Douglas, “I used to sit there and watch it and go where do the quiet gays go?”
In her comedy special, Gadsby revealed that she was diagnosed with autism in her thirties, the delay partially because she did not match the prototype of autism, and the prototypical LGBTQ+ individual she saw on her TV screen.
Incorporating accessibility into queer community safe spaces is about acknowledging the diversity within our own community and welcoming people of all ability levels into spaces we create for expression, acceptance, and identity.
Comedian Rosie Jones has made a name for herself on shows such as The Last Leg and Would I Lie To You?. Her unique style of self-depreciation has made her a household name in recent years and a particular favourite within the disabled community. Rosie has cerebral palsy and raises awareness of disability issues within her comedy.
She recently came under fire when it was revealed that she occasionally performs in venues with little to no accessibility meaning that many disabled fans are unable to attend shows.
Pain Chronicles is a monthly(-ish) column from Caroline McDonagh-Darwin about coming to terms with living with a chronic illness. It will include funny stories and brutal honesty, with some thrown-in chats with her mum Shaz, and other friends too, along the way.
As I’m writing this, I’ve just got back from a weekend in Sheffield. It was my 30th birthday and my mum Shaz treated me. But it did illustrate the difficulties of travelling for two people who have sometimes conflicting access needs, and how “fully accessible” can be a myth.
Back when I was legally blind instead of totally blind, I was lured in by covers just as everybody else was. If I spotted a brown boy on the cover, I’d eagerly pick up the book, wishing to read different perspectives and experiences, and even injustices. I knew a lot about my own injustices as a gay blind man, but I was very ignorant of the system’s ways of stomping on POC every chance it got.
