As I grab everything I need to make a DIY (Do-It-Yourself) table, I realise that, as a person with a disability, I’ve been living a DIY life as well – a life where ‘do it yourself’ was the only way to do things.
For me, and I’m sure for others as well, living a disabled life has been another rendition of an adventure sponsored by ableism, perpetuated by stereotypes and supported by inequality. For us, everything is about tests and trials. The life we want isn’t out there.
Call it the greatest form of freedom or subjugation, we’re called to build the life we want.
No one backs us up. For us, saving a few spoons to smile an extra hour calls for a journey down an unexplored alley to figure out a way to save those spoons – Mission I’m Possible. (We’re inspiring, aren’t we?) I remember making a device by taping two rulers together to reach the key stand to grab the keys off it.
Our lives do not fit the ‘normal’. Hence, the world doesn’t see us which is why it is not built to accommodate us. So it is convenient as well as legit to say that persons with disabilities carry heirlooms of trauma, discrimination, and internalised ableism.
The DIY life has been lived by generations before me. The only difference is theirs are far tougher than mine and ours. This definitely doesn’t tone down the struggle we have to put up with. We often long for external validation of our experiences and thrive when we get one. This is why.
The DIY life, though may seem free and dominated by personal will, it is a subtle hint at the invisibility of & disregard for PwDs (Persons with Disabilities). While we may love to have things our way, it frustrates us to constantly be on the edge and brainstorm ideas to make our lives easier.
Disability is not a result of personal failure, it is, in fact, a result of systemic breakdown. A breakdown that’s been taking place through decades and the brunts of which is being borne by generations.
It’s always like – if you want it, do it yourself. Build a table or an entire world, here you’re your own curator, your own architect. I may be a speckle of the 10% of the population of those like me, but I’m invisible. We’re invisible.
We may be inspiring & motivating. But at what cost?
The DIY life may be our exclusive effort to overcome discomfort and fatigue; and foster equality (no matter how little), it is not an unbearable, undesirable, unwanted life. It is a good life. A happy life. A proud life.