Image Description: A drawing of a woman with short red hair and wearing black glasses. Only her face above the mouth is seen. We don’t see her wheelchair. However, we know she is sitting in a wheelchair because we see a headrest behind her head.
ABOUT THE DRAWING:
This piece done in colored pencil and acrylic ink is loosely based on a photograph. The title The Ableist Lens? is meant to pose the question to the viewer about whether minimizing our wheelchairs or devices truly emphasizes beauty the mouth and eyes of the subject are obscured to show that excluding that part of ourselves by default minimizes us as people.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Stacye Robison
Stacye Robinson lives in Indianapolis. with her husband Ryne and cat Calvin. she is committed to gentle activism in accordance with her Christian faith.
Image Description: Stacye Robinson is waiting by a bus stop on Mass Ave seated in her black wheelchair in a green bubble coat and black leggings she has short brown hair and brown eyes.
My name is Arturo Contreras, I am a newly disabled person. Well actually, I have always had a disability, I just never knew. I have recently been diagnosed with ADHD… at 25…
When I was growing up I was always a “smart” kid. I always got good scores on my tests and good grades in class. From kindergarten until I graduated high school I passed all my classes and was a good student. That is if you ignore that D- I got in 4th grade because I did not like my teacher, the constant late assignments throughout my schooling, and the lack of studying outside of class. Nevertheless, I was a great student!
The lessons that my amazing work ethic taught me in my primary schooling helped me flourish in college! During my first semester, those lessons helped me fail my classes. It turns out that all those years as a student did nothing to prepare me to actually study. Why did this happen? Did I forget how to study? Did I stop caring about school? Did I no longer have priorities? Of course not! I was just distracted. I was going out and working a lot, and I had a girlfriend. So I did what all good students do and I removed all distractions from my life, I stopped going out. And right as rain, my semester GPA goes from a 2.1 to a 2.4.
The next semester I tried harder, I had to. How could I be proud of that 0.3 increase? I worked and worked, and I worked so hard that I realized I was working harder but my circumstances were not improving. It’s at this point where we have to ask ourselves as readers “Is this person serious,” or “If I were them I would’ve done this, this, and that,” or my favorite “I feel like this person is just complaining too much and just needs to do the work.” That last statement is what helped me get out of a major depressive episode that had set in and rendered me immobile for a week straight! I was good as new!
Just kidding.
What helped me was a part of my safety net. A close friend, Angel. He had helped me before as a teammate, pushing me to give my workouts my all when I was ready to give up. Now was no different, he was pushing me to get help when I felt my weakest. He helped me go to an emergency therapy session, on campus. He was the one who helped me feel sane at a time when all I felt was pain, confusion, and sadness. This action was what propelled me to take care of my mental health.
Fast forward 6 years, 3 wrong diagnoses, 2 therapists, to finally being diagnosed and recently medicated for ADHD.
Writing this makes me realize that I have been working for 6 years to get “stable” enough to finally be able to “work hard” enough. The “Gifted kid to ADHD overwhelmed Adult” pipeline that has been able to flourish, needs to be studied. For years I did what was expected of me; now, all of a sudden, that wasn’t enough to succeed. I feel like the goalpost has been moved. I didn’t realize that I was working hard so that I could “work hard”.
And it is true, to some degree or another, that I could’ve been in a better state if I had just “worked harder” from the beginning. Working harder in this context usually just meant applying whatever silly little neurotypical strategy that was in fashion. When I reached high school, having SMART goals and a growth mindset was all you needed to succeed in school. Before that, I needed a planner, in college, I was told I needed to find a system that worked for me. At no point did anyone suggest that maybe I had a disability. At no point did anyone tell me that “working harder” could also mean going to therapy, getting evaluated, and understanding your disability. A lot of the better part of these past few years has been exploring how my symptoms affect me and those around me.
As my journey with ADHD unfolds, I’m realizing that the initial steps can be daunting, yet with the right support system, they become more manageable. Cultivating the support of those around me has been crucial in my quest to move forward in life. My family and friends have played a huge role in encouraging me to seek answers and progress. The support that they have shown has been fundamental in how I continue to go forward. My family has taught me that hard work is the basis for anything good in life. It is because of them that I know now that hard work can be reflective. My friends push me to make decisions that challenge me to grow.
I don’t know if I will ever fully understand my disability, much less the failings that allowed me to go undiagnosed for the past 25 years. But I do know that I will always have my support system to back me up. Because of them, I know I am not alone and I have the confidence to keep going forward.
ABOUT THE ARTHOR: Arturo Contreras Mejia
Arturo Contreras Mejia is a 25-year-old Mexican Man. He is currently a student at IUPUI studying digital marketing. Arturo is also a part of IDJ as a social media captain (intern). In his free time, Arturo enjoys spending time with his loved ones.
Image Description: Arturo is standing on the left of the picture, in front of a telephone pole with his arms crossed. He is wearing a pink hoodie, jeans, and sunglasses. He has a serious bearded face. To the right, is a plentiful cactus plant. Behind a gas station that reads “kinda tropical”
This painting depicts someone with a disability, jumping from brick to brick defying their physical limitations, and overcoming the odds that life throws at them.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Johnson Simon
I have always been interested in body movement and when an opportunity was presented to me to attend a dance recital exhibition nine years ago on the Western Michigan University campus, I was excited to attend. Viewing the dancers and their freedom of movement inspired me to display movement in my painting. I was stimulated to create my first dance focused expressionistic painting. Dancing is to me, the art of moving lightly and quickly with the skill of communicating my emotion. As someone with a disability, movement impacts me on a daily basis. In order to help gain more knowledge of motion and movement, I used several sources of movement for research and to enhance ideas. I watch several videos of dancing to help in determining the type of movement I wanted to present in my painting. I studied the movement of people: walking, running, swimming, and sky diving. I then had my own walking and stepping up and down stairways videotaped. I discovered that my walking has a rhythm to it. To further enhance my study of movement I attended several dancing classes to sketch the dancer’s movements for effect. My painting is a representation of me dancing. I am able to make broad and sweeping motions with my paint brush and transfer that motion and feeling of movement onto the canvas to express myself. In my artistic work, I am able to move freely about without limitations. I use bright colors to represent the body movement throughout the surface.
My artwork is a way for me to express or transfer how I would move freely and uninterrupted. I can run, walk, jump, and I can dance without being bound to limitations when I paint. Zm and draw. I believe the paint brush is an extension of me and represents my idea of movement on canvas.
I was born with osteogenesis imperfecta (OI), a rare genetic condition that causes my bones to break easily. My parents didn’t know until I was around 9 months old when I broke my collar bone trying to roll over. Starting from a very young age, I was delayed in my gross motor skills, and my parents were originally told I wouldn’t be able to walk. However, I did learn to walk at 3 years old. Growing up and in school, I mostly used a walker and wheelchair to get around but remained as independent as I could.
As I got older, my parents instilled the importance of advocacy and building a community. Throughout all my grade school years I had several close friends that I could always count on. My parents mirrored the importance of building a community with so many friends that were practically family. The people I could also count on when I needed them.
When I went to college, my disability became a little bit more front and center. I went to school in Cincinnati, possibly the hilliest place in the Midwest I could have chosen. I only knew a couple of people and so it took me some time to find my people – who were willing to help me on occasion (especially up those hills) and reteach individuals about who I am, beyond the disability. I did though find my community and had people I knew I could count on if something happened.
What nobody tells you is how challenging it is to meet people once you are out of school – disability or no disability.
After undergrad, I decided to move to the Washington, DC area for a job. I packed up my things and moved, knowing nobody. I didn’t realize how scary that would be until after my parents left and it was just me and my new dog that I “accidentally” found at the Humane Society the week prior. Since I knew nobody, I figured the best way to meet people was through dating. I went on a lot of dates and eventually met my now husband, who also happens to have a disability. One of the stark differences we found is the difference in our idea of community. It was not something his family necessarily prioritized, while mine did. But, over the years we have learned to develop our own ideas of what community looks like for each of us and for our family. There is no one way to build a community. We took pieces of what we knew, combining it together to make our version of community beautiful and unique.
Fast forward to a baby, COVID-19, and a move to Indiana later and I cannot believe the community we have built. If you had asked me six months ago if we had found our people in Indiana yet, I maybe would have shrugged it off or said not really, however I have been proven very wrong, for the better. Community might not be there every day, but when it shows up it’s often very surprising.
In January, I had a fall that resulted in my first broken leg since I was in eighth grade. As a type-A planner personality, I panicked as to what we were going to do. Not only for me, but for my husband, who is still learning to drive, and our daughter. Life does not stop when you have an injury as an adult. However, in a state of panic I asked my sister to reach out to everyone I could think of for help. By the time I was out of surgery, our entire “help” spreadsheet was filled, and I had several text messages with people asking how else they could be there. From old and new friends, neighbors, and people I barely knew from our daughter’s daycare, we had everything covered and then some. I could not believe the amount of support people were willing to provide if I just asked.
It is hard to ask for help, especially as a person with a disability, it often feels like a burden. But that is what community is; helping each other. I know one day, someone that has helped me is going to need support and I can guarantee I’ll be right there when they need me. We all have our seasons and life ebbs and flows, but one thing can always remain constant and that is community.
:ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Jessica Minor
Jessica Minor was born with osteogenesis imperfecta. She was born and raised in Indiana, but previously resided in Maryland for over eight years until 2021. She lives with her husband, 3-year-old daughter, and 2 dogs. Since moving back to Indiana, she has worked as Director of Community Engagement at accessABILITY, Center for Independent Living. In her role, she oversees all outreach initiatives, fundraising efforts, and disability justice trainings where she works with organizations and companies on how to be more inclusive to the disability community. Jessica is also on the Board of Directors at Meals on Wheels of Central Indiana and is a member of the Interagency Coordinating Council for the First Steps program.
While in Maryland, she received her Master’s Degree in Public Policy and worked in disability and public health policy. She was also on the Board of Directors of Independence NOW, a Center for Independent Living, and Hearts and Homes for Youth.
Jessica loves connecting with the Greater Indianapolis community, building connections, and helping bridge the gap for people living with disabilities.
Image Description: Jessica is a white female with wavy brown hair to her shoulders and is smiling. She is wearing a dark blue shirt with black jacket.
