Category Archives: identity
In Germany, the toymaker Paraplush has evidently just released a line of psychiatry-themed plush toys. Each comes ‘packaged with a personalized medical history and treatment plan.’ They’re tied in with an online game made by the same company (warning, Flash, autoplay). Like, for example, Kroko the crocodile:
Kroko here ‘needs your help!’ His ‘patient profile‘ tells us:
The patient’s hypersensitive hallucinatory perception is a symptom of a paranoid psychosis. The signs are a mental block and a Gestaltzerfall (disintegration of structure) of the habitual field of experience. The consequence is a compensational reactivation of archaic reaction patterns.
The idea behind the toys, according to the creators, is that ‘Children and grown-ups like their [the plush toys’] vulnerability and find something in them that gives them a great sense of comfort in helping to heal them.’
I am reminded of the giant plush microbes I buy for my cats to play with. They experience a great sense of comfort in shredding ebola.
There are a couple of things going on here that I find troubling. I am, in general, not a fan of the cuteification of disability issues, and thus, plush representations of mental health conditions presented as an educational tool bother me. This is just a personal reaction; I know that other people may well feel differently, and I admit that a part of me is kind of bemused by the idea of buying a plush representation of one of my disabilities.
I think there’s also an argument to be made, though, that some people might find these toys beneficial (or just funny in a reclamatory way), and might enjoy subverting the ‘patient profiles’ and ‘treatment plans’ or even writing up treatment plans of their own as a way of reclaiming and owning their own experiences with the mental health establishment. Indeed, I wonder how my perception of these toys would change if they were being produced by and for people with disabilities with the specific goal of empowerment.
I am also really bothered by the reinforcement of psychiatrisation going on with these toys; there’s one toy labeled as having ‘multiple personality disorder,’ for example, whom we are informed is ‘unable to accept herself,’ stressing that the conclusion we are supposed to draw from the patient’s history is that she needs to be ‘fixed’ through integration. Likewise, I assume most of the treatment plans are predicated on the idea of mental illness as something that needs to be controlled, probably with the use of medication. I suspect that other approaches/perspectives/experiences are probably not included in patient profiles and treatment plans.
And, of course, the company’s store is labeled ‘The Asylum: Psychiatric Clinic for Abused Cuddlytoys,’ which…could we not make ‘asylums’ cutesy and funny, please, given that people are forcibly institutionalised to this day in facilities where abuse really does happen? Sometimes really horrific abuse?
What about you? How do you feel about this line of toys? Do you think the context, of who is making them, for whom, and with what intent, is important to consider?
These are some things I’ve been thinking about, but haven’t yet figured out where this train of thought is leading, or what it might connect to, or what conclusions I might end up with. I’m writing this to see if virtually talking it out can help me think through it further, or hoping it will spark some ideas or brilliance in one of you! This is not meant to be an authoritative statement on these issues and there may be glaring issues I’m overlooking! I’m just hoping to have a good discussion about it.
Recently, the federal circuit court in California heard a case about whether the city of Hermosa Beach could ban tattoo shops entirely. The plaintiff – a man who wanted to open a tattoo shop in the city – argued that the ban was an impermissible restriction of his free speech rights. The court wrote a long decision (pdf) considering not whether having a tattoo was something protected by the First Amendment, but whether the actual act of tattooing someone was conduct with sufficient expressive content to be considered as speech. So the court was thinking about whether the act of giving someone a tattoo counts as speech – if the tattoo artist is the equivalent of a painter or a photographer and adding artistic judgment and content to the representation, or if they are more like a computer printer printing out text or images designed by someone else.
This meant the court spent a lot of time discussing the idea of “expressive conduct” – behavior that isn’t actually “speech” in that the person is not speaking words, but is behaving in a way that communicates a message or idea and so is protected the same way that speech is. In the United States, the Supreme Court has already considered a whole bunch of activities and determined that they should be protected the same way that speech is. For example, burning the United States flag, wearing a black armband to protest the Vietnam War, and nude dancing are all activities that aren’t directly speech, but convey a statement or message and so are protected the same way that speech is.
I started thinking about the idea of “expressive conduct” – behavior that conveys a message or statement – and was immediately struck by how existence as a person with a disability could be seen as expressive conduct. Using a wheelchair or cane or braces while out in public seems to me to express a statement: “I am a person with a disability, I exist, I share public space with you.” This is, as we’ve discussed here at FWD and many others have expressed, a radical statement, a powerful message. To me, it seems equivalent to the message expressed by wearing a black armband to protest a war – it is a political statement of resistance.
The law of expressive conduct recognizes that not every instance of the behavior is communicating an expressive message. If, for example, I had mini American flags as part of a table decoration and one fell into a candle and started burning while I wasn’t paying attention, that flag burning would not be sending the same message as intentionally burning a flag at an anti-war demonstration. My accidental flag burning would not be sending a message and so would not be protected as speech. Similarly, a PWD alone in their apartment likely isn’t sending any message or statement with the mere fact of their existence – they might be typing or painting or speaking and sending a message that way, but not simply by existing. So PWDs wouldn’t automatically “become” speech – only when their existence communicates a message.
I’m not entirely sure where that gets us. In First Amendment law, when conduct is considered speech because of its expressive content, it is protected by the First Amendment, which means that the government cannot restrict it without passing certain protective tests. So theoretically, arguing that disability is a form of speech would let PWDs argue that governmental restrictions on their presence are in fact restrictions on speech. But since the First Amendment only protects speech from restriction by the government, not from private businesses or in private life, I’m not sure that would add any protections that the Americans with Disabilities Act doesn’t already provide. So I’m not sure this analogy would be helpful in extending the existing legal rights of PWD.
I’m also unsure how people with invisible illnesses (like myself) fit into this analysis. My being in public does not automatically communicate to people that I exist as a PWD, because my disability status is not apparent from looking at me. So I don’t start communicating this message until I affirmatively disclose or mark my disability status.
I also wonder if this forcibly ascribes expression or speech to PWDs who do not think they are or want to express that radical message.
I don’t really have a strong conclusion to any of this – I’m still rolling it around in my head to see what if anything it turns into. But I like the idea of acknowledging that when PWDs with visible disabilities are engaged in sending a message as powerful as burning a flag.
What do you think? It’s ok if you don’t have a clear position one way or the other but just have thoughts or reactions!
[Warning for somewhat graphic discussion of medical procedures and adverse allergic reactions.]
I have been dealing with weird, severe, and inexplicable allergic reactions since the age of 14.
Most of these reactions have been to food items; my known food allergies include peanuts, various tree nuts, and (wait for it) green bell peppers. Of course, I take great caution to avoid these foods and my exposure to them. Unfortunately, with my immune system, such caution is no guarantee that I won’t have an “attack” out of the blue.
The first “attack” I had, in fact, was one of those not caused by food. I was a teenager at the time, in Paris on vacation with my family. I don’t remember much about my initial symptoms other than I felt overly-warm very suddenly, and decided that it would be a good idea to take a cold bath in order to rectify the situation. My mom found me in the bathroom of our rented apartment, facedown on the tile floor and missing several items of clothing. I had figured, somehow, that putting my face on the tile floor as a method of cooling down would look less weird than sticking my entire head into the freezer. My face, which had initially turned bright red, swelled up so much that I soon found myself unable to see. I had quickly begun to resemble the Bob’s Big Boy logo; I should note here that if you ever start to resemble a famous food-related logo, you should probably go to the nearest hospital post-haste.
My Bob’s Big Boy transformation was quickly followed by giant, blotchy pink hives that appeared on my neck and shoulders. Joining the party somewhat late was a hot, almost volcanic feeling in my lungs that quickly morphed into breathing trouble. Severe breathing trouble. So my family (my mom, my dad, and my younger brother — who suggested that I not look at myself in any reflective surface so as not to become more freaked out) and I took to the streets of Paris in search of a hospital. We found one — after a quick visit to what we thought was a hospital but which actually turned out to be a convalescent home. At the ER, the staff took one look at me and immediately put me at the front of the queue; I was quickly whisked away to a magical land where a nurse tried to calm me down, completely in French, when I loudly protested the insertion of a large IV needle into the underside of my forearm. The only English-speaking doctor on staff, as it turned out, was on his day off, but came in to examine me and assure my family that I was going to be okay.
When we came back from vacation, I had another attack about a month later. And then another. And a few more, until one ER doctor suggested that I get a full round of allergy tests, more commonly known as “scratch tests.” The scratch tests revealed a substantial peanut and tree nut allergy. I took care to avoid these foods, or any foods that may have come into contact with them. Unfortunately, I still kept having attacks, even when I avoided the dreaded peanuts and tree nuts. I still have them, approximately once every 3-4 months.
Sometimes, I get them as a result of cross-contamination if I eat at a restaurant. Sometimes, I get them for no reason at all — even if I haven’t eaten for a while. The symptoms tend to be fairly consistent: first, a scratchy feeling will start in my throat and lungs, followed by wheezing. Then comes breathing trouble, which tends to feel like an elephant is standing on my chest. Usually, my eyes will then swell up to the point that I cannot open them all the way, or see. Sometimes, I get gastrointestinal trouble as well, the symptoms and signs of which are not things that I can discuss in polite company due to general grossness and/or TMI.
The first five to ten minutes of these attacks are, generally speaking, the worst part(s). By now, my battle plan for dealing with these attacks is well-established: Take a shot or two of my inhaler at the first signs of trouble (usually breathing difficulties plus another symptom), then four or five antihistamine pills. Of course, it takes a few minutes for these things to kick in, which is part of why the “waiting” part is so physically painful. During these first few minutes, I am in some sort of hellish allergy-limbo: it feels like someone or something has put some bricks on my chest and torso, I can’t see or can barely see, and it feels like my intestines are being vacuumed out of me — and the only thing I can do is wait for the medication to start working. I generally consider myself to be a patient person, but nothing will sap your patience like having to wait out a potentially life-threatening medical emergency.
And if that doesn’t work, I have to go to the next level, which is using epipenephrine, a self-contained steroid shot to be injected into the thigh in case my breathing is so severely compromised that I pass out or am in danger of not getting enough air into my lungs.
For these sorts of attacks, there is really no pat, inspirational or life-affirming end, so much as a screeching halt after the medication actually starts working. And this total lack of inspiration or an end in sight is also reflected in some of the responses I have gotten from many abled people in regards to my “allergy issues” (to be addressed in part two).
Astrid, of Astrid’s Journal, has agreed after much consideration to host the September edition of the Disability Blog Carnival, and we at FWD/Forward are enthusiastic to support that decision!
Astrid has chosen the theme “Identity”:
Think of it as broadly as you want. Posts relating to transforming identities, are of course especially welcome, as they honor both themes. Just a reminder that, even though this is a disability blog carnival, we honor intersectionality, so racial, ethnic, gender, sexual and any other type of identities also count, as long as the post is somewhat relevant to disability.
Comments can be submitted preferably here or else at the Disability Studies, Temple U. blog. The deadline for submissions will be Tuesday night, September 21 – Tuesday night your time, so don’t worry about my living in Europe. I hope to post the carnival on Friday, September 24 – whenever it suits me, my time.
We hope you will consider submitting something for the Carnival. Remember, the theme is a way to get you started, and we hope that you will interpret it to how it applies to your own situation, keeping the general spirit of intersectionality in mind.
Again, thanks to Astrid for taking this on, because without volunteers, there would be no Carnival!
Be sure, if you haven’t already, to check out the August edition of The Disability Carnival at Brilliant Mind, Broken Body, hosted by Kali.
Dear abled/non-disabled people without disabled parking placards who use disabled parking spaces anyway,
I don’t care if you want to use the space “because it’s so convenient.”
I don’t care if you only “need” to use the space “just for a minute.”
I especially don’t care if you back up your illegal use of said disabled parking space with some bizarre justification like, “But some people FAKE being disabled to get these permits, so what’s the difference?” or “Well, if a person in a car with a blue placard shows up, I’ll move” or “But there isn’t anyone disabled who needs to use the space here right now, so what’s the harm?”
The harm is that I or other disabled people are so often witnesses to your saying these things, and we are presumably expected to not react at all to your taking advantage of something that is not for you. I personally do not own a motor vehicle, so while I don’t need a disabled parking permit, I also don’t need your entitlement complex and your basically telling me — a person with disabilities — that some of the regulations intended to benefit me and people like me are rules that can be bent by you if it’s the most convenient option for you, an able(d) person.
Just don’t do it. It’s illegal and carries penalty of a possible fine for a reason.
This sort of legislation? Is not intended to benefit you, or be a convenient thing that you can take advantage of when you feel like it. Most of the world is already set up for you. These “convenient” parking spaces don’t have to be set up for your use, too.