The parallel conversations in trans and disability circles about the role of diagnostic categories MUST BE thought together. Though all people (trans and disabled included) deserve access to affirming healthcare, the medicalization of our bodies is NOT done in our interest.
Whether we’re talking about diagnoses, like gender dysphoria and autism spectrum disorder, or outdated categories, like transsexualism and asperger’s syndrome, medical models were invented to pathologize nonconformance & subjugate trans & disabled people to medical authority.
The medical industrial complex is not benevolent. It does not care about you. The categories, such as transgender and autistic, that today allow you to build community are always in constant tension with their genealogical histories of pathology.
To contest the regulatory power of gender dysphoria or other diagnostic categories is not to deny that people experience dysphoria but to insist that such an experience does not belong under the rubric of a medicalized model, especially when such a model was designed to HARM YOU.
My dearest neurodivergent friends, I think it’s time to reflect on our attachment to the endless stream of threads attempting to enumerate neurodivergent traits or essential differences between neurodivergence/neurotypicality.
First, these threads are almost always written by and for white people and rely heavily on white people’s experiences of neurodivergence, despite that almost none of them acknowledge their own centering of whiteness.
Second, these threads trade in identity politics, assuming that if we can help more people realize their neurodivergence, then something good happens. But neurodivergence is a contingent category. People code their quirks and anomalies in lots of ways that are useful to them.
Every semester, at least a few colleagues express anxiety about student participation. I always suggest reframing the issue to honor multiple forms of engagement: how can we invite students to engage in ways that are accessible to them?
Here are some examples from my courses.
The Notetaker: some students engage by documenting class discussion, even if they don’t add to it. These students produce a record for the entire class. It’s a great way to ensure all students, even ones who are absent, can return to the ideas produced during each class meeting.
The Questioner: some students are wonderful at generating questions that offer new entrances into texts, even if they aren’t keen on answering them aloud. By submitting a few annotated questions to me ahead of class, I can credit their insights to move discussion further.
One thing disability justice lends reproductive justice is a reminder that “bodily autonomy” is not a helpful framework for many people deciding whether to have an abortion. Autonomy, we are reminded, is a liberalist fantasy that denigrates the value of interdependence.
🧵1/9
While all people should have the right to make decisions about their own bodies, these decisions aren’t made in a vacuum. We each decide what is best for ourselves by considering our unique material, geographic, social, cultural, and political contexts. 2/9
These contexts include the fact that not all birthing people have the same experiences during pregnancy, in delivery, or while raising children. Differences in experience can be linked to disability, income level, and location, among many other factors. 3/9
This is Laurie Haynes, a psychologist who testified in MO last week that the ban on gender-affirming care should include adults.
She is also a member of the NARTH Institute, the most vocal advocacy organization for conversion therapy in the world.
This is a BIG deal. 🧵
I address the history of conversion efforts and NARTH in particular at great length in #QueerSilence, but it’s worth emphasizing here that conversion therapy has *always* instrumentalized ideas about children in order to discipline adults.
Typically by speculating on the effects of child trauma on sexual/gender development, conversion therapists often invoke the specter of children in order to diagnose adults as mentally ill—a kind of mentally ill that is circuitously cited to justify withholding care from kids.
Today’s gender is a lesson on neuroqueer gendering. Every day a gentle flourish of the bodymind, a spin within a lifetime of kaleidoscopic transmogrifications. Gender as my choice of tea and the pace of my morning walk. Gender as scraping pleasure off my orientation to the world.
I haven’t posted a daily gender in awhile because I received pushback from some nondisabled trans people, who felt that I was mocking the integrity of gender and failing to respect the gravity of many people’s transitions. I never want to hurt anyone, so I stopped.
But since then, I’ve been thinking a lot about the abledness required to claim gender as a static object (e.g., identity) and about the strange assumptions embedded in an accusation that I don’t take transitioning seriously.
There’s certainly a lot of misinformation in the #interabled article, but it’s worth remembering the number of carers, who are predominantly women and disproportionately women of color, whose disabilities go unrecognized because of the racialization and gendering of care labor.
Christina Crosby and Janet Jakobson have recently referred to this problem as the “geopolitics of disability:” when the apparent independence of some disabled people is made possible by the sublimation of another group’s capacity to be disabled.
To be clear, the journalist should’ve done better homework on the care provided by disabled people, but this error does not negate the facts that (1) care IS LABOR, and (2) labor can debilítate bodyminds in ways that don’t qualify as “disability” under global capitalism.