Horses are good company -- The Witcher

Will Trent, episodes 1 and 2. Hulu.

Honestly I think this is a good show, evaluating by the writing and acting, and I appreciate that the women dress in a kind of normal way; I liked all the costume choices. I liked that Will Trent has dyslexia and has found work-arounds for that.

But the copaganda is strong in cop shows, just generally, and it's almost worse now that the writers are wink-winking about the Black Lives Matter movement and the increasing cultural consciousness re police brutality. In these 2 episodes (which are one story), the protagonists were doing all kinds of illegal shit. One cop tells another, "you can't do that anymore," implying that it used to be OK to be rough with suspects. Even if I try to tell myself it's a fantasy, I can't tolerate it any more. I also dislike the focus on murder. So, there is a lot to like in this show but it's not for me.

Heart of Invictus, Netflix, 5 episodes.

A docu-series focusing on several participants of the Invictus Games, which are an event to uplift and celebrate disabled veterans. I really liked this a lot. These games and the documentary are hosted by Prince Harry, so if you don't like him you may find that annoying (I like him though!!). There is a lot of focus on mental and emotional health. Particular athletes are highlighted, one from each of the Netherlands, Ukraine, the UK, Canada, the US, and South Korea. This series is about the lead-up to the games and then event itself, which took place in the Hague; and it's also about the war in Ukraine to a certain extent. I thought it was very well put-together, very interesting, and lets disabled people talk about their own experiences. The athletes are not selected by who is the best, but rather by "who will benefit the most from the experience." Which is a bit vague and not fully explained, but it seems to mean that these people are ones in need of support, and are getting support through the coaching, the community, etc.

I also recommend this for concussion-recovery viewing as there aren't a ton of bright flashing lights, spinning camera, that sort of thing. And the woman from Ukraine is legendary, a very memorable person with a fantastic face and an amazing story.

I noped out of Sue Perkins: Perfectly Legal, for concussion reasons, it starts off with loud bangs, sped-up camera footage, club dancing, and Sue saying that her biggest fear is feeling "stuck". hard pass sorry!

I had a very mixed reaction to another documentary about disabled athletes, called Rising Phoenix, about the Paralymics. What I liked: hearing from the actual athletes and seeing them perform. I also learned some history about the Paralymics, which were founded by a Jewish doctor, Sir Ludwig Guttmann, who escaped Germany and went to the UK. He advanced care for people with spinal cord injuries and started sports competitions for disabled people. His daughter says that the Paralympics are so-called because they are "parallel to the Olympics."

I didn't care as much for the parts about the politics of the organizing committees, though other people might find that interesting.

What I found off-putting was the inclusion of Oscar Pistorius (in historical footage, and talked about), without any contextual information. There's a young sprinter who says, "At that time, he was my hero," and they leave it at that, without mentioning that Pistorius is a murderer.

They also seemed to give more time to the Italian fencer (who has this big star quality), and less time to the African athletes. One of the African athletes appears randomly with a cheetah, and this is not explained. Why is there a cheetah?

This one was a frustrating watch, lots of weird little random things that made no sense, and I seem to find I have the most to say about media I'm frustrated with.

https://www.fansplaining.com/episodes/186a-disability-and-fandom-part-1

Contains a full transcript and show notes with links! I have a bit in this at the end.

(x-posted to access fandom).

Yesterday I finished reading "The Return of the Thief" by Megan Whalen Turner. It's rare for me to read an actual novel these days, but I'm pretty invested in this series. This book is the 6th and final volume.

I'm copying this over from Twitter; some thoughts on disability portrayal in this book. Cut for possible spoilers, but I'm trying to avoid any major ones.

( Read more... )

Crip Camp - Netflix

A very good documentary that starts out by profiling Camp Jened, a summer camp for disabled people, and the people who attended and worked there in the 1960-70s. The film follows several of these people who went on to be very active in the disability rights movement. Some of this information was familiar to me, and some was new.

Content note: There is some footage of Willowbrook Institution, where disabled people were abused and neglected.

Extreme Rescues - Hulu

I've watched the first 6 episodes of this, which is the total of what is available right now. I think it is still airing on live TV. I am fascinated with rescue and survival stories, and so I enjoyed the heck out of this. There are 3 rescues in each hour-long episode. The show relies heavily on helmet cams, which are popular among adventurers, and also used by rescuers. This means there is some shaky-cam footage of very real, harrowing moments. It's heart-pounding! Real life has a lot of drama and weird scenarios!

I like what these stories say about humans: sometimes people are reckless, and sometimes bad shit happens, but other people come to the rescue. And some people maybe have a strong will to survive, and maybe miracles occur.

There aren't a ton of repeated scenarios, but typically they might be: a trapped caver, a mountain climber in trouble, someone who was hiking and fell off a ledge. Lots of helicopter rescues.

I want to boost this post by jesse_the_k, and the article linked therein:

Toppling the To-be-read pile:
https://jesse-the-k.dreamwidth.org/316704.html

I've struggled with reading for a long time due to headaches, lack of concentration, my eyes getting tired, etc. I've lost the ability to devour novels, and it makes me sad. What I've gone to instead are:

--Comics and graphic memoirs, which are easier to focus on, usually.
--Reading fanfic on my eReader, which allows me to increase the text size, and read easily in bed where I don't have the distractions of the computer.
--Podfic and Audiobooks, although these also require focus! Often it's nice to listen to a fic more than once.
--Getting more into movies and TV, which I can discuss with my community and analyze in a similar way.

I seem to go through reading phases, and I try to be patient with myself. I can still be around books and discuss them with people without reading them.

Thank you to runpunkrun for finding this article for me! I thought it was lost for good so now I'm going to post it several places.

Selective Mutism
3 September, 2010guest post

“To choke”, used as a metaphor in performance, means to freeze up, to fail to perform, to be overcome with stage fright or other emotions and simply stop moving. To become “choked up” with emotion, a phrase familiar to many of us, means to feel emotion so strongly that it is difficult to speak. It is a feeling of the throat tightening and words stopping.

These are natural, normal phenomena that most people feel once in a while.

I have Selective mutism (link goes to Wikipedia) which I classify as a disability and also believe to be a natural and normal phenomenon, albeit a rare one, affecting an estimated 7 in 1,000 people. I am currently seeking treatment for it which has me thinking about selective mutism more than I usually do, and its impact upon my life.

Selective mutism is mostly seen in children and adolescents, and it is important to understand that it is a failure to speak, not a choice not to speak. It is not a reflection upon the child’s parents; it is a disability. The child would like to speak but cannot, in certain environments, to specific people, or about certain topics, due to extreme anxiety. This disorder can extend into adulthood, which is the case with me. I was never formally diagnosed or treated as a child.

There are specific instances from childhood and adolescence that stand out in my memory, and others that my family still talk about, that are good examples of selective mutism in my life:
I did not speak to my preschool teacher the entire year (but talked freely at home)
I did not talk to store clerks
I went to junior prom and did not talk to anyone due to anxiety
I did not talk much in church/Sunday school and did not make friends there; although I made friends freely in other venues

What I have trouble talking about now: Basically anything that is associated with a lot of emotion. Here are some examples:
Sexuality, being queer
My chronic pain and illness
Conflict with friends or family
I have trouble calling people I don’t know or knocking on doors, although I don’t think this is uncommon for shy people
I am sometimes uncomfortable being asked to keep secrets or not to talk about things because it reinforces this anxiety

One article I read recently said: “You can’t get a kid verbal until you have social comfort” (http://www.selectivemutism.org/news/people-magazine-spotlights-dr-elisa-shipon-blum-director-emeritus). This resonated quite strongly for me, because as a queer person in society, who was closeted (to myself) for a very long time, it is rare that I am socially comfortable. I have certainly learned many coping techniques. But it is hard to speak when you are not comfortable with yourself, and when society makes you feel unsafe. I cannot talk about selective mutism without talking about my experience of being queer, and being closeted. They are tied together. Activist Mia Mingus says, “intersectionality is a big fancy word for our lives.”

What does selective mutism feel like? People talk about a flight or fight response to danger. This is a third response, a “freeze” response. The body senses danger, although the source is unclear, and the body freezes. Talking is impossible. Even thinking becomes different, slowed, unclear. “How can I get myself out of this situation?” is usually what my brain is focusing on, but often that thought is in conflict with some other need or desire like wanting to be at a party or needing to answer a question directed at me. It is a terrible feeling, a deer-in-headlights feeling. I want to escape, but I can’t figure out how, I can’t figure out what is even going on. As I have learned more and more about this I have learned to simply feel the anxiety, feel it in my body and my throat, and not try to think so hard, try not to focus on words, which often do not work well for me in times of high anxiety.

What helps? Getting away from words and looking at images helps. Doing things that root me in my body helps, such as holding my hands under hot water. Writing out whatever is bothering me helps tremendously. And, importantly, I need to notice when it is happening. I have had this all my life; it’s my normal, after all, so I don’t always notice when I’m being anxiously quiet or peacefully quiet. I don’t always notice if there is something important in my life that I am not talking about. I don’t think this is just a selective mute thing: in a repressive culture, there are plenty of important things we just don’t talk about, for all sorts of reasons. This might be because to speak about them makes the thing more real; to speak might make other people uncomfortable or angry or bored; to speak might make myself vulnerable, because someone could use my words against me. Speaking is dangerous, and silence is a naturally protective stance. The body knows this, the throat closes.

Thankfully, the fingers don’t, the fingers can still type. Writing about my life is practice for talking about my life. It is worlds easier.

Speaking is a political and personal act. I want to get better at it, I want to value my own voice and what I have to say. I am taking baby steps in this direction. I am, strangely enough, good at public speaking as long as I don’t have to talk about myself, or something too personally connected to myself. I do better at speaking when my role is defined, such as in academic or club environments. I have read interviews of actors and other performers saying similar things, that the stage or screen is the only place they are comfortable speaking, because they are playing someone else, not themselves.

In all the reading I have done about selective mutism, on blogs, in scientific articles, on awareness websites, all the focus is on diagnosis, treatment, therapy. Don’t get me wrong, I think these things are great. But what I don’t understand is the lack of discussion on how to live well with the disorder. The social justice model of disability has taught me many things, and one of those things is that I don’t necessarily need to be cured. I can seek accommodation for my disabilities and live well with them. Why not teach kids with SM sign language? Why not let them type or write their responses to questions? Why do we privilege speech so highly? Other forms of communication are just as useful, and sometimes better. There are many forms of self expression. Words are just one kind, and speech is just one iteration.
About Sasha Feather

Sasha likes science fiction and fantasy, horses, and coats. View all posts by Sasha Feather →

20 thoughts on “Selective Mutism”
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Due to smoke in the air from Canadian wildfires, and pollen so thick it's coating my windshield, I closed the apartment windows. I'm sad about it, and have been thinking often of this insightful article:

Lyme Disease Changed my Relationship with the Outdoors, by Blair Braverman

https://www.outsideonline.com/2395555/lyme-disease-changed-my-relationship-outdoors

I became acutely aware of how much life outdoors revolves around tolerable discomfort, or threading a thin line to avoid that discomfort...

But now that I was sick, I couldn’t absorb any discomfort. I needed everything around me to be perfect: the right temperature, the right light, the right soft surfaces and quiet voices. Houses are highly efficient shrines to comfort, and when you’re sick, it seems like that external comfort is all you have. Just as my life as a healthy person had been defined by time outside, being indoors became a symbol of being unwell to me.

Netflix has two new shows that are so similar to each other that they seem to be in conversation, or part of a genre that I’m not sure how to name. Shrill and Special are reality-based, short form comedy shows centering on marginalized people. Their particular kind of comedy is one where situations can be awkward and somewhat cringe-y, and people make bad choices, but the characters have heart and are trying. Sometimes situations aren’t resolved to satisfaction; in this way they are unlike old-school sitcoms.

Both shows take place in LA and are about 20-somethings trying to navigate social relationships, jobs, and parents. In Shrill, Annie Easton (Aidy Bryant from SNL) is a fat woman who is struggling with her self-esteem. In Special, Ryan is a gay man with cerebral palsy (and is actually played by a gay man with CP, show creator Ryan O’Connell). Both characters have jobs at blogging websites that seem to be similar to XO Jane-- their assigned stories are confessional, personal posts. Both shows even feature pool parties where their characters struggle with being near-naked in public. Both have terrible bosses, although Ryan’s boss did grow on me a bit by the end of Special’s 8 episodes. Both characters have fat women of color as their best friends, and those characters are more likable and charismatic than anyone else around them. (This is possibly problematic: a fat woman of color as truth-teller or guide.)

Annie’s journey is one where she is learning to stand up to people and value herself. She starts writing blog posts about being fat. She stands up to her mom and her boss. She struggles with trying to break up with her no-account boyfriend, but keeps going back to him. I found the relationship with the boyfriend uncomfortable to watch. She seems to like him but it’s hard to understand why; but then, I’m a lot farther in my self-acceptance journey than Annie is, and I’m also largely not attracted to men.

Ryan is trying to get out in the world and have a life, after being in a co-dependent relationship with his mother. He gets a job and an apartment, and makes a friend at work, Kim. In the sweetest episode of the series, Kim encourages Ryan to hire a sex worker to help him get past his virginity. The sex worker is played by Brian Jordan Alvarez, an actor I know from a youtube series called “The Gay and Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo.” This scene was funny and sweet and normalized the idea of visiting a sex worker. My heart grew three sizes.

Some parts of “Special” were uncomfortable to watch, because they relied on people lying and keeping secrets and having conflict with each other. The series ends with a bit of an emotional cliffhanger between Ryan and his mom. Ryan starts this show with no friends, and just starting a job, and it’s not clear what he’s been doing all day. It seems like if he’s living an insular life, he should at least have online friends. But he isn’t connected to community and it’s not clear if he has any hobbies or interests. There are probably plenty of people living this way, but it’s a bit painful to think about.

It is just so ridiculously refreshing to watch shows about fat people, queer people, disabled people. This particular genre is perhaps not to my taste, but I will keep watching for the representation if nothing else. These people have sex and fight with their parents and, put simply, get to be the main characters.

Content note for Special: the end credits feature bright colors that rapidly change and bothered my light-sensitive eyes.

I'm just so excited to have read a book this week. Because of my headaches and facial pain, etc, I've had a hard time reading, and it makes me sad becuase I love reading. it's not that I love "having read", I love reading itself, the quiet of it, the way time stretches pleasantly and I can immerse myself into a narrative. Sometimes when I finish a book I'm just so happy with the experience that I'm like, "5 stars! Excellent book!" Then later I think more critically and temper my opinion.

Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy

Some of this is copied from my Goodreads:

Intense, absorbing, and beautifully written. This memoir details the author's experience with childhood cancer in her jaw. Unsurprisingly if you know me at all, I especially enjoyed the horse parts: as a teenager, Grealy works at a couple of stables and finds solace in the horses. I appreciated the meditations about how one's face can be a stand-in for one's self.

Contains: harrowing descriptions of medical procedures including surgeries, radiation and chemo, dental procedures, plastic surgery, hospital stays;
Human and animal death;
Descriptions of bullying.

Several times the author uses "blind" as a pejorative.
---

The flaw of this book, if there is one, is that the beginning parts are intensely detailed, making you feel as if you are there with Grealy, but then the last third of the book is not very detailed at all. Suddenly she's in college, then grad school, then living in Europe. This is the part where she's getting a lot of reconstructive surgery, none of which she's very happy with. I'm not sure how I feel about this part, or about the book as a whole. Sadly Grealy did not live very long, so couldn't reflect more upon this stage of her life. She died of an overdose.

She seemed to have a very interesting and complex inner life, with a fierce intelligence.

This book does not get into disability politics or culture at all, except perhaps in a few scenes where she finds community with fellow patients in hospitals.

Excellent thing I read on twitter, in re resolutions for disabled people:

Tawn Christians

@tawn_christians

I WILL:

Measure my health using my own standards of wellness;

Treat my lived experience as expertise;

Rest when needed ;

Ask for what I need;

Be honest about my struggles ;

Celebrate my successes;

Be assertive with my clinicians;

Leave conversations that hurt me.