Some Partially Formed Thoughts On Size and Disability

A conversation in the FWD comments and with other FWD contributors got me thinking. And the best way for me to think, sometimes, is to write about what I am thinking, hence, this post, which is being crossposted on this ain’t livin’. And it’s also been crossposted (with permission) at Fat Lot of Good.

A commenter basically asked why size acceptance and disability activism are separate movements, and brought up the issue of ableism in the size acceptance movement. This is a question I’ve been asked a couple of times, so I responded with my blanket answer, which is that the two social movements are different things, with some intersections. There’s a lot of intersectionality between size acceptance and disability activism, but the two are different. Kind of like how feminism and disability activism are different. Again, many intersections, but different types of people and different types of end goals.

Being separate movements (with intersections) does not, of course, mean that members of either movement should be discriminating against each other, since they do have some common goals, and this is where the issue of ableism in size acceptance comes into play.

One of the cornerstones of the modern size acceptance movement is the repetition of the idea that being fat does not mean that you are unhealthy. That’s actually something I believe in. I want to divorce the idea of fat and unhealthy. The flip side of this, though, is that people who are fat and unhealthy are marginalized by the fat acceptance movement. And this is where the intersection with disability rights activism occurs.

Some people are fat and healthy. Other people are fat and unhealthy, for unrelated reasons. Other people are fat because they are unhealthy (hi, that’s me). And some people, yes, are unhealthy because they are fat. There. I said it.

I believe that all of the people in the above paragraph deserve to be treated like human beings. They deserve respect, they should not be shamed for their bodies, they should be given accommodations if they need them, they should not be treated as figures of horror, mockery, or fun. I would like to believe that everyone in the size acceptance movement thinks this way. That the movement is about acceptance of all people and all bodies, no matter how they came to be the way they are.

But. The problem is that, in some areas of the fat acceptance movement, there’s a good fatty/bad fatty dichotomy. Some people push the “good fatty” part of the dichotomy; fat isn’t unhealthy, we are the face of the obesity epidemic, etc. And they tend to sort of ignore the “bad fatties,” the fatties who are disabled (whether or not their disability is related to fat) and the fatties who are unhealthy. Because they don’t fit with the message of the movement.

Who’s a better face for a public campaign? An older woman who is a wheelchair user, or an able-bodied young woman?

This is a common problem with feminism, too. In the hurry to advance the movement, to try and accomplish something, people get left by the wayside. Not just left by the wayside, actually, but steamrollered and stuck in the closet. The bad fatties are that family  member no one likes who gets ignored at the end of the table or accidentally left out of social invitations. They don’t make the movement look good, or they don’t support the core messages of the movement, so they have to be excluded “for the greater good,” except that this concept is a load of bunkum.

There are people who want movements like size acceptance to be more inclusive. But it’s an uphill battle. Some people argue that it’s better to focus on small steps, like getting society to accept fat people, before introducing people to the idea that there are different kinds of fat people with different kinds of needs. I think that this is a mistake. It’s a mistake because it sets up exclusivity within a movement, and it’s a mistake because it values and prizes health/goodness above all else.

In short, people in the fat acceptance movement are falling into the same trap which perpetuates ableism in our society. It’s the trap that says being sick, for whatever reason, being disabled, for whatever reason, is objectively bad, and possibly your fault. This is the trap which is used to push people with disabilities out of the public discourse, because they raise uncomfortable issues. And because they make people uncomfortable.

The Fat Nutritionist, one of my personal heroes, wrote a great post about the fact that we have no obligation to be healthy. That post is as example of one of the ways in which we can start to deconstruct and break down this trap. We wouldn’t need a good fatty/bad fatty dichotomy if we accepted that some fat people are unhealthy or disabled, for whatever reason, and that’s ok. And that those people have some unique needs which need to be addressed, rather than being ignored in the desperate rush to make the movement media friendly.

So, are fat/size acceptance and disability rights activism the same thing?

No, they are not. But there are a lot of commonalities. Both are getting at the idea that all bodies need to be accepted by society, including those which don’t meet objective standards of health and beauty. Both are getting at the idea that policing identity, disability status, and health is not acceptable. Both endure opposition from people who think that fat or disability are somehow objectively bad and the fault of the person experiencing them. Both suffer from a good/bad dichotomy. Members of both movements face the “well, I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about those other fat/disabled people. You’re fine, it’s just those other ones that I have a problem with.”

Size acceptance needs to start addressing its ableism in a more meaningful way. It’s going to be difficult. I’ve fallen into the good fatty/bad fatty dichotomy myself, and probably will continue to do so despite my best efforts. Getting more disabled fatties involved in size acceptance would be a good way to start doing this. (Shapely Prose, for example, a major fat acceptance blog, could really use a columnist who identifies as fat and disabled, although Sweet Machine is a terrific ally for people with disabilities.)

Disability activism also needs to address its sizeism. Sizeism may not be as entrenched in the disability community as ableism is in the size acceptance movement, but it’s there. It sometimes manifests in very insidious ways, too; sadly, marginalized people sometimes marginalize others in an attempt to assert their right to exist. If we could recognize their right to exist, maybe they wouldn’t have to fight so viciously for it.

One of the best ways to start breaking down exclusiveness in these movements is to start stressing, when people talk about these issues, if you are identified with these movements, that people are talking about you. I am clinically obese (“but you don’t look fat”/”you can’t be fat, you’re not disgusting”). I am disabled (“but you don’t look disabled”). I am, in some terms, a bad fatty (“oh no, I’m talking about those other fat people, over there, those ones, not you”). That’s me that they are talking about. And every time I say that, I humanize the movement a little bit more. I get people thinking about things in a new way, because they identified me as on their side, as one of the “good” ones, and it’s time to start rejecting that thinking.

By 4 November, 2009.    Uncategorized   



23 Comments

  1. I mostly really like this post, and your overall point is well taken, but this line is just really smug:

    Other people are fat because they are unhealthy (hi, that’s me). And some people, yes, are unhealthy because they are fat. There. I said it.

    There. You said it? Do you think you’ve said something transgressive here, because I assure you, you have not. There are plenty of people out there saying fat people are unhealthy because they got fat, and I’m really disappointed to see you taking such pleasure in saying it again, especially in the context of a discussion about intersectionality and respect.
    .-= Gnatalby´s last blog ..That balance between ridiculosity and sincerity =-.

  2. Gnatalby, I’m terribly sorry to have offended you. What I was trying to get at with that line is that in some areas of the fat acceptance community, it is taboo to admit that being fat can be unhealthy in certain cases. Obviously, society as a whole generally believes that being fat is automatically equal to being unhealthy, which I do not believe or support, and that’s not the attitude that I was trying to promote here at all. But I don’t believe the opposite, the idea that being fat can never make someone unhealthy, and it makes me uncomfortable when people deny this, because I think it kind of undermines the cause in some ways. Again, I’m very sorry to have upset you; perhaps I can find a way to reword it to make my point more clear.

  3. I don’t want to nitpick because I also thought this was a well-stated post, but that line struck me too, for the reasons made above. Also,I think that’s more of a strawman people put out about the fat acceptance movement then it is something subscribed to by members of it. Most FA activists I’ve read write about the “right” weight for any individual person being a very individual thing – being artificially above that weight for whatever reason can be as harmful as being artificially below that weight.

  4. i am disabled and i am fat. i continue to receive less or inappropriate treatment for my disability due to my size. my doctors assume everything wrong with me is due to my size. i’ll grant them that my diabetes is related, but also due to a family history of diabetes. but my other problems are not. i’m a wheelchair user who can stand and walk for very short distances (like from the bathroom door to the toilet.) at my last doctor’s visit, he said, “we have to do more to get you out of that chair and exercising.” i didn’t say anything at the time because my mind was still going “wha????” would that doctor have suggested “getting out of that chair” to a non-fat person who had severe systemic arthritis, osteoporosis, and 4 ruptured disks? i seriously think not. no one takes my mobility impairment seriously, assuming it’s due to fat, as opposed to the other way around.

    good news is that i can occasionally come up with a snappy response. i was seeing a cardiologist for a checkup. i’d never seen this one before. he walked into the exam room and said “YOU’RE FAT!” in a loud, surprised, and disgusted voice. There was a long mirror on the door. i leaned over in my chair. my eyes got big and i said “Oh my god! You’re right. i never noticed that before!” totally took the wind out of his sails. felt fantastic! 🙂

  5. “Oh my god! You’re right. i never noticed that before!”

    I am totally going to start using that every time someone tells me I’m fat. Usually I just blankly start back and raise an eyebrow.

  6. @meloukhia: Thanks for responding. I definitely see what you mean about context. It may not be a transgressive opinion in the world at large, but you’re definitely right that it is in the context of the FA movement, and it’s definitely a slippery slope into saying “Fat isn’t unhealthy because unhealthy is BAD” which is definitely a terrible message, so I can totally see why this argument raises your hackles.
    .-= Gnatalby´s last blog ..That balance between ridiculosity and sincerity =-.

  7. As someone who identifies as fat and disabled, I really liked this post. I personally didn’t find the line “Other people are fat because they are unhealthy (hi, that’s me). And some people, yes, are unhealthy because they are fat. There. I said it.” to be offensive as others seem to have – probably because you qualified it with all the other types of fat health as well. It felt more like you were adding it as another possibility, rather than, as the anti-fatties do, the only way things can be.
    .-= Anji´s last blog ..Carnivals! =-.

  8. Hey, thanks for the shout out. You’re right that this can often be a tricky area in FA circles; I think disability theory deepens FA theory in a big way, since it forces us to think for real about bodily difference and societal value, rather than staying at the “fat girls can be pretty!” level that is often a first step toward FA for a lot of people. I do think that because of the frequent mistreatment of fat people by medical professionals, many fat people are terribly afraid of becoming disabled, especially in ways that would be likely to be aggravated by having fat limbs or a heavy belly or what have you. But, like most currently abled people, many fat people don’t question where that fear of disability comes from: is it because you are afraid of mistreatment by people because of *their* prejudices, or are you afraid because of your *own* prejudices, or both? That can be very very hard to sort out, and I think an awareness of disability activism 101 can be tremendously helpful to that process.

    It can be difficult, when a group you’re in is being demonized by being compared to another oppressed group, to shut down the kneejerk reaction of “But we’re NOT like them!” and reaching for the more ethical response of “And they shouldn’t be oppressed either.” But IMHO if we’re not working toward the latter goal — the overturn of all systemic oppression — then we’re missing the big picture.

    I think I may be rambling at this point (I am taking a break from dissertatin’ to comment), so I hope what I’ve said is clearer on the screen than it sounds to me right now. 🙂
    .-= Sweet Machine´s last blog ..Open thread: Other people are not on fluffcation =-.

  9. These are difficult waters to navigate when dealing with anti-fat bigots. I’m fat and currently able-bodied (it can be the nature of MS that the effects come and go). On the one hand, I gnash my teeth at the assumptions made about me and my behavior due to my size. I don’t live on giant servings of donuts and I am very physically active. I have discipline and self-respect. It’s hard to not want to push back against the societal stereotypes and moral panic around my fat body. However, I absolutely hate that that push-back can often be read in ableist terms. I’ve felt like I’m living in a Seinfeld episode (Google it, young ‘uns): “I don’t lay around eating deep fried whipped cream, NOT THAT THERE’S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT!” I really do try to carefully parse debunking stereotypes from not reinforcing a good/bad fatty dichotomy while making it clear that ALL bodies deserve to be treated with dignity.

    But, maybe parsing isn’t the way to go. Maybe any kind of parsing, whether well-intentioned or not, just ends up sounding like, “I’m not one of those unhealthy people!” Let people keep their misinformation about the causes and effects of fat as long as they’re getting the message that it doesn’t fucking matter, ALL BODIES DESERVE TO BE TREATED WITH DIGNITY. I guess if it’s about not being lumped in with whipped-cream-eating layabouts, then the stakes are pretty low, but if it ends up being about not being lumped in with those unhealthy resource suckers, then the parsing is potentially too damaging.

  10. Or, what Sweet Machine said while I was TYPE TYPE TYPING. She used phrases like “systemic oppression” and shit.

  11. Thumbs-up to this post, fer serious.

    Bit of a shameful aside: I have the tendency to keep a stiff upper lip about my pain, and can get a bit upset when abled people do not do the same thing for their pain(s); when I’m having a bad pain day and a more able person complains about a headache, all I can think is, “You think YOU have problems?” This is unfair, I know. Pain is pain. But I have the unfortunate tendency to think, “I’m not like people who complain about EVERY pain they have.” I know that part of it is that I am envious of people with able privilege who nonetheless have no issue with (perhaps unintentionally) waving it in my face and the faces of other PWDs and folks with chronic pain or health issues.

    And I should probably write a whole post about this, instead of mucking up the comments! 😀

  12. This is a really interesting post!

    I… am not sure about this comment because I’m privileged when it comes to size (am somewhere between thin and inbetweenie), but I read FA stuff and find the movement really awesome (hi, SM! I totally fangirl you!) – and the parts that talk about how the whole healthy eating as a moral imperative thing is bullshit are really helpful for me personally. Which sounds awful when I’m writing it down because privileged here, but… food can be a very, very difficult thing for me because of disability and I feel entirely left out and alienated by the way mainstream society talks about “healthy eating”, utterly ignoring that it’s often not really an option for me and that that attitude can actually be really dangerous for me to buy into. It’s so relieving to find a place online that thinks this is actually rather messed up.

    Which makes the good fattie/bad fattie stuff hard to swallow – because they are promoting the eating the “right way” = moral imperative attitude again and it still doesn’t have any less negative consequences for me than it did before. OTOH, it is not my movement, you know? And I’m going to crawl back into my privileged hole and hide now bye.
    .-= Kaz´s last blog ..fuck you ubuntu so very much =-.

  13. Kaz, that is one thing about the fat acceptance movement that I really like; the stress that, you know, you should eat what you want, what you can eat, what you can prepare. No judging about what is or isn’t on someone’s plate. You should eat within your means and abilities, and you are not obligated to eat whatever society currently thinks is “healthy.” In fact, there’s a lot of evidence to debunk “healthy eating” and that evidence gets the most airtime in the fat acceptance community, which is sad, because I think more people could benefit from hearing it. I think you would really enjoy The Fat Nutritionist (whom I linked to in this post, I believe), because the way she talks about food and structures the discussion about food is totally awesome.

  14. This is a real issue in my family. I have rheumatoid arthritis (diagnosed when I was about two years old) and have spent most of my 21 years on steroids. I recently had a surgery which my mother had about 10 years ago for the same condition. The ways we were treated were very different though because my mother was fat when she had the surgery and I wasn’t. My mum got lectured by a string of doctors, nurses and physiotherapists, even though her weight was related to her disability, and was generally made to feel like an irresponsible slob whereas I got loads of sympathy and ‘oh it’s such a shame you have to have this surgery so young’ (annoying too but that’s a different story!) Because of seeing the horrible way my mother was treated and knowing about the weight gain that can be an aspect of long term steroid use I have acquired a mild eating disorder though I only recently recognised it as such, I’ believed that what I was doing was just (protecting’ myself from getting fat by limiting my calorie intake and purging if I go over my daily calorie allowance for any reason, but, in the long-run, though I fit some arbitrary idea of ‘healthy weight’ I’m also left with a troubled relationship with food and more worryingly a damaged digestive system and all because I didn’t want to be ‘blamed’ and guilt-tripped for causing or worsening my disability in the way my mom was, and,, I’m ashamed to say that perhaps a part of me believed the doctors (I know my mother did) and that if I stayed slim I might be ok. Ultimately all the weight-watching didn’t prevent me from needing the same treatment as my mother, just another way that the ‘fat people with disabilities are disabled because they’re fat’ trope can be damaging for the people who firmly believe that eating healthily and exercising and never getting fat will magically protect them from ever becoming sick or disabled.

  15. I’m very much a fat acceptance and healthy at any size supporter though I’m currently approaching the intersection of disability and fat acceptance from the other side. “Currently” because for a while I was on a meds regimen where the side effects had made me gain sixty-some pounds. This resulted in my grandmother telling me I was fatty fat fatterson and how awful it made her feel to see me so fatacular every time she spoke to me. (Now I’m skinny she’s telling me my meds are making me sick. It’s always something.)

    Now I’m on a meds regimen where the side effects include weight loss. My chronic pain condition is being really painful and I don’t feel like eating a whole lot. So a lot of the weight I gained on the previous meds when I was hurting less has come off. This makes me both skinny and really unhealthy. My blood pressure is still high, my blood lipids profile is still ghastly. It’s permanently ghastly and I think I get it from my father’s side of the family; even in years I was vegetarian and drinking my coffee with soy milk the numbers didn’t change significantly. I haven’t done any of the things we’re supposed to do to become skinnier healthier prettier less offensive to the senses of people who actually matter. I get less exercise than I have in the past. I don’t go out of my way to eat approved foods (though I have a hard time remembering to eat at all; on okay days I might eat twice). I don’t weigh myself to see what my ‘progress’ is. I know what my weight is because I’m at the office of a doctor who wants to know my weight at least once a month.

    I still get social cookies for it. Even from my GP who should know better. I hate it. I try to tell people who tell me how great I look “I didn’t do anything, I don’t deserve praise for it, this isn’t healthy” but the myth that skinny equals healthy is so ingrained I don’t know how much I’m heard. I worry a lot about what my losing weight communicates to other people; does the apparent ease with which I’ve become (unhealthy and) thin come with a big mess of shame? (I had a lot of the same guilt and anxiety about how little I had to do about my appearance when I started transitioning — the gap between internal and asserted gender identity and perceived gender identity is sometimes very large for trans people, especially trans women.)

    Many of the people I love most in the world are fat and I love their fat because it’s part of them. (I’d love their less-fat if they lost weight too because that would be part of them. If they became a fat-hater after losing weight the way so many former smokers become anti-smoking zealots that might be a problem.) My wife is a fat woman and she’s gorgeous and sexy and pretty and desirable and she doesn’t think of herself as any of those things. She’s worked really hard for years to lose weight. I worry that she considers herself a failure for not losing it when I did. Relationships aren’t and shouldn’t be therapy but I hope I help her feel attractive and desirable at least sometimes.

    Gah. Many many words, sorry. This is in my head a lot.
    .-= kaninchenzero´s last blog ..[Disability] How to Be a Good Doctor =-.

  16. It’s in my head a lot too. I was extremely sick a few years ago and lost a lot of weight, and I was consistently praised for it even though I looked unhealthy (sallow skin, losing hair, etc). The consistent reinforcement of “thinner is always better” is so unhealthy, and it’s really, really frustrating when that comes from medical professionals who are supposed to be caring about your health. To be told, by a doctor, that you should try and maintain weight loss caused by illness…I finally started refusing weigh ins whenever I visited the doctor, which resolved a lot of those problems, but still.

    All of these comments are illustrating how much intersectionality there is between disability activism and size acceptance, in all sorts of directions. There are a lot of constructs colliding here and it’s really interesting to explore them.

  17. I feel sort of on the edges, so to speak, of both fat and disability. When it comes to fat, I’m an ‘inbetweenie’; sometimes I wear extra-large misses’ clothes and sometimes I wear 1X or 2X plus sizes. If I bring up my weight, loved ones almost invariably tell me, “Oh, you’re not THAT big!”. (If I’m talking with my mother, this is followed up by, “But you do need to lose some weight.”)

    When it comes to disability, I have epilepsy. Granted, it’s a severe form that has so far laughed at all attempts to control it. I have seizures several times a day. But when I’m not having a seizure, I’m able-bodied.

    Right now, one way in which my fat and disability intersect is exercise. Overheating is a major seizure trigger for me. Last time I was on the treadmill, I overheated despite all my best efforts (huge fan, air conditioning, wet towel on the neck) and had a seizure. On a moving treadmill. It’s a miracle that all I got was a few bruises. I used to love swimming with my family until I had a seizure in the water and nobody was looking my way. Fortunately my sister noticed before I started inhaling water, but it was still damn scary.

    So, I don’t exercise regularly. It’s hard to find something I can do and there’s always a niggling fear of having a seizure while I do exercise. I feel bad admitting this. After all, I can get up and move around. Do I really count as disabled? Do I really count as fat? People tell me that I do, but I feel guilty accepting it. It’s that whole “but other people have it so much worse than you do, you should just get over yourself, your problems don’t really count and YOU ARE JUST LAZY, ELECTROGIRL” complex. Sigh. It’s illogical, but I can’t seem to get rid of that mindset.

  18. Yes yes yes.

    I was “morbidly obese” but then found out I was celiac; changed my diet and lost 20% of my weight. Now I’m just “overweight.” And since 90% of my friends are fat I feel guilty for losing weight.

    Wheelchair designers model their stuff around the “average person” (i.e, 180#, 5’8″, male). The equipment available for fatter wheelchair users is flimsy and uncomfortable.

    This Disability Studies Quarterly article Resistance Training: Re-reading Fat Embodiment at a Women’s Gym is by Margaret Shalma, from an undergraduate disability studies class. In addition to raising some of the same questions we’ve been kicking around here, she provides a play-by-play examination of how she undid some of the disablist and sexist programming in her own head. Also, a bunch of references for those who like libraries.

    Disability studies is the academic home of disability rights theorizing across all academic fields: DS thinkers work in literature, philosophy, medicine, media studies, and so forth. DSQ is available free, on line.
    .-= Jesse the K´s last blog ..PSA: Don’t Tug the Magsafe from your Macbook =-.

  19. Yes! Thanks so much for this post. First of all I just want to give a big fat shout out to intersectionality. All our identities impact each other so much that it is super important to talk about them in relation to each other like this poster and most of the commenters have done. Bravo.

    I am actually hoping to go to law school with a focus in disability studies and civil rights to work in some sort of FA capacity. Disability studies (in a legal context) provides an established framework to talk about fat stuff (they are both about body diversity). I don’t necessarily think this is the best approach for “total liberation” but I would like to get my fat stiff fingers into this part of the law.

    I’ve identified as fat for a long time but my disability is relatively new. Since it involves needing a lot of rest and having mobility issues I often assume that people are thinking “oh, she’s not disabled, she’s just fat which is why she can’t keep up” (My own IO – internalized oppression – says the same thing.) Even though I am totally fine with not being able to keep up “just” because I’m fat. I feel like I have too much to say about this to be coherent.

  20. I’m in the OMGDEATHFATZ range, and disabled (I just got my Rollator walker so I can get out and do more with my husband), so this post really hit home with me. I fall somewhere in between the good fatties and bad fatties and don’t really care. My numbers that count with the doctor, other than my weight, are all good (and my doctor knows better than to bring up my weight anymore unless I’ve lost/gained a lot in a short amount of time). I figure I’m healthy, other than the fibromyalgia, arthritis, and severe lower back pain I have.
    I know when some people see me using the electric cart at WallyWorld, they think it’s because I’m this fat, lazy broad who should just get up and walk, but I can guarantee you that if they had to deal with the pain I have when I’m walking & shopping, they’d be using the electric cart too. That’s a case of an invisible disability, because it’s not one you can obviously see. Well, you can see it if I have to walk a lot – I start limping, then my legs cramp, and if I can’t find a place to sit, I fall down (and I stay down until I’m not in so much pain anymore, then I get up, no use in getting up when I’m still in a lot of pain, I’ll just fall again).
    Disability and FA intersect every day for me, I just don’t always talk about it. Maybe I should blog about it more often………
    .-= vesta44´s last blog ..Exposed to the flu and pneumonia and I’m still not sick =-.

  21. While I don’t identify as disabled as such (something I am thinking on a lot since reading FWD)I suffer with chronic depression and anxiety and have been medicated for more years than I care to remember. Luckily, I have been doing well for several years now and have a medication regime that is working for me (for the moment, as you know, it can be prone to change!). So I have ‘mental health issues’ and I am fat. I get SO sick of my fat being blamed for my depression and anxiety. If anything it is more the other way, the meds havent been great in terms in of weight gain. But I am constantly told if I lost weight I wouldn’t need the meds yada yada yada. Because yeah, losing weight would immediately rectify the chemical imbalance in my brain… I have also been told (by a surgeon) that if I got a gastric band it would ‘cure the depression’. Yep, CURE IT. Unbelievable. I don’t get depressed about being fat. I get angry about the way society treats fat people yeah but if the world around me wasn’t so obsessed with weight, I wouldn’t be worrying about it (or wouldnt have worried about it so much in the past). For the most part, I have a great life. I am the happiest I have ever been and I am also the fattest I have ever been. Being thin is not going to get rid of my depression, if anything, when I was an average weight, I was more depressed than I was as a fatty. But of course, every malady I ever have is blamed on my weight – from a bone spur on my right index finger, to ear infections, sore throats and the gall bladder attacks I had when I did lose some weight. Because fat is the root of all evil. Yup. The mind boggles.
    .-= Bri´s last blog ..Fluff (yes, I know it’s Wednesday not Friday…) =-.

  22. OMG! Hooray for this post!

    “Some people argue that it’s better to focus on small steps, like getting society to accept fat people, before introducing people to the idea that there are different kinds of fat people with different kinds of needs.”

    This is crap. This is total crap. Activist history is riddled with these promises. And it never, never, never gets to the second step. That’s not change, that’s not solidarity, that’s just narcissistic activism so that the fatties at the top can have the same privileges as the skinnies at the top. If there was one thing I could tell new activists, one message I could press on their minds, it would be /Do not accept part in or give support to any movement that tells you to wait your turn./

    “Sizeism may not be as entrenched in the disability community as ableism is in the size acceptance movement, but it’s there.”

    How have you been measuring this?
    .-= Quixotess´s last blog ..Scholastic Achievement =-.

  23. I absolutely love the idea that no one is under any obligation to be healthy. Thanks for linking!

    This post is really helpful in looking at body acceptance (and also acceptance on all ranges of mind and mood typicality – my most salient disability falls here.) I’ve been telling people about it since I read it yesterday.