Thread by @JustStimming

At the #ASANgala, I ask people to remind me who they are because I don't recognize their faces. I twist and untwist and twist and untwist the beads around my wrist, and I rock back and forth in my seat through most of the program. (1/8)

I carry a script in 16 pt font anytime I have to speak into the microphone. My DSP is always at my side, reminding me to drink water or sit down or take a break, teasing me that I've already introduced him to the same person 4 years in a row so I don't need to do it a 5th. (2/8)

And no one bats an eye. No one calls me unprofessional. My colleagues all know that they won't see me for the rest of the week, because I won't be verbal (or awake) very often for the next few days. It's not a problem. (3/8)

We have attendees who need to frequently step out for sensory breaks. We have attendees (and staff!) who wear headphones the entire time, and attendees who are doing vocal stims through the whole program, and sometimes folks who do both. We have stim toys on every table. (4/8)

We have folks using tablets or sign or carefully spelling their thoughts out letter by letter, and we have other folks listening attentively and responding seriously in turn. We have three generations of disabled women who use powerchairs chatting together about their days. (5/8)

And we celebrate each and every one of those folks. Whoever you are, whatever your needs are, we will find a way to make it work. You are wanted here. This is a night to celebrate your right to be yourself. And every year, the party gets bigger. (6/8)

What I am trying to say is that I am told every day, often by people who swear they have my community's best interests at heart, that inclusion is not possible, that some of us can just never be accepted, welcomed, valued.

And it's not true. (7/8)

Every year, my speech is the same. The whole world is ours. We’re coming for all of it. Then I step off the stage, and my DSP helps me calm down, and when I go back into the main room, I see hundreds of people who are making that come true every day.

And my heart is full. (8/8)