The disability community is built upon mutual flourishing. We know that our survival depends on each of us caring for one another in collective solidarity. As a disabled person I often feel quite lonely in my experience of disability. It can be a solitary endeavor to lie alone in your sick bed for days, weeks, and months at a time. One can be in a room full of people and feel alone trying to squeeze your disability into a box of normativity that helps others feel “comfortable” around you. We try to navigate these challenges the best that we can, but the social and physical isolation is exhausting.
While at Baylor University in Texas at the Institute on Theology and Disability, I felt the beautiful joy of being in community with other disabled people. It was a chance for us from our diverse disability experiences to come together and get to fully be ourselves. I hung on every word of the presentations I attended. Surprisingly, what happened outside the plenary rooms was just as educational. The learning happened as I walked to the dining hall accompanied by Cameron in his wheelchair calling out the best curb cuts for our friend Sarah to direct her guide dog Ursula to traverse down. It happened when I met with fellow disabled people like Jaime in the low sensory room who needed to rest from fatigue as I was laying down on the couch for pain relief as we talked about disability theology in Jane Austen novels. It was spending time at the AirBnB with Bekah, Greg, and Emma getting to unapologetically be out and proud of our disabilities. It was refreshing to socialize with people who just get it and don’t require an explanation for your non-normative existence.
What I truly held dear was having other disabled people like Angela, a fellow person with chronic pain, check in on me and express a desire to support my access needs. I am someone who talks about the importance of interdependent communities of care often, and yet each time I am brought into a sacred community of support like this, I am surprised by the miracle of its existence. I know intellectually what communities of care can be like, but it is transformative to experience what they feel like.
The theology we build our scholarly and professional space upon at the Institute on Theology and Disability is deeply rooted in the theology we live out as a community of disabled people together. If our religious communities could move towards this sacred model of mutual support, it would not only help us in the disability community, but it would also help all faith community members feel held in the love they deserve.
