The Voiceless Minority

Okay, so usually I don’t write two in a day, but something has been on my mind lately, and the blog I posted earlier wasn’t an original piece of writing. Instead, it was forwarding an inspirational story. So here’s my daily food for thought.        I warn you that this blog may unsettle some, and it may make you uncomfortable. The un-comfortableness will come from the overuse of swear words or a sexual conversation. It might come from looking at “ourselves” (society in general) in the near. Some of you may not like what you see if you are honest with yourself.         I am two and a half weeks away from finishing my Master’s Degree at my school in  Northwestern, Pennsylvania. As I complete this round of my academic work, I am forced to reflect. For the last nineteen years of my life, give or take a semester or two, I have been on the “right path.” We all are required in the end states to enroll in 12 years of compulsory education. After that, different paths can emerge depending on

So it’s been a while since I’ve written. I can’t say precisely why, but recently I’ve gotten inspiration back. I’m reading a great book by Fred Pelka, the first global history of the Disability Rights Movement that is actually told by people there. It is called  What We Have Done: An Oral History of the Disability Rights Movement . This book does a great job of two things: teaching someone who is disabled more about their movement because, sadly, I am not well informed, and secondly, backing it up with scholarly research. However, it’s this book and recent conversations that have caused me to write this blog.         There are several perceptions of disability but one perception of disability that irritates the disability community and me in particular. Fred Pelka has the medical model of disability. Rather than using this technical term, I refer to it as the “need to fix what is not broken.” Often in my life, I have encountered both persons with disabilities, caregivers, and friends