I want to prefix this with saying: I have Cerebral Palsy. However, I cannot claim the experiences being documented in this film. While I do have some muscle issues and struggle with many physical tasks, I’m much more physically abled than anyone in this film.
My case primarily affects motor control in my tongue and jaw, leaving me unable to verbally speak. This makes for a very isolating experience that is defined by a completely different lack of autonomy in my daily life.
With that said, this…. is the first time I’ve ever connected to any piece of narrative art concerning disabled reality. A lot of different emotions are popping up. I plan to write a more proper review at a later date (and not at 3:42am). These are some loose thoughts though:
—I never thought that a man admitting to rape would ever be an emotionally powerful moment for me—especially in a documentary.—This is likely the first time I’ve seen a film exploring disability and hadn’t felt deeply disgusted with how disabled bodies were being presented and perceived by the abled gaze—The donations section was specifically impactful to watch. After all the ‘I feel sorry’ statements as the camera remains fixated on the children walking up to them, the recognition of the pity present within the act—and by extension, the pity fundamentally present inside the film’s abled bodied audience—hit me with a feeling I haven’t felt watching and reading stories on disabled existence. Even when those other stories got confrontational, it… wasn’t like this.
I have a lot of other thoughts but Imma… sit on this one for a bit before eventually rewatching it.
Whenever I watch other films about disability, I can’t shake the feeling that what was created wasn’t for me. In most cases, those films devolve into escapist empathy which ultimately serves an objectifying role for the film’s subjects. This film is different.
Sometimes you just need to recognize the pity. Sometimes you just gotta have a good cry before continuing to try your best to thrive inside a system that views you as a defect. Sometimes accepting that ‘shit’s fucked’ is enough.
You don’t have to be this unheard genius. You don’t have to go on this whole adventure to prove your abilities to the world. You don’t have to empowering.
You are allowed to just… be…
Maybe the simple act of survival itself is revolutionary.
I want to prefix this with saying: I have Cerebral Palsy. However, I cannot claim the experiences being documented in this film. While I do have some muscle issues and struggle with many physical tasks, I’m much more physically abled than anyone in this film.
My case primarily affects motor control in my tongue and jaw, leaving me unable to verbally speak. This makes for a very isolating experience that is defined by a completely different lack of autonomy in my daily life.
With that said, this…. is the first time I’ve ever connected to any piece of narrative art concerning disabled reality. A lot of different emotions are popping up. I plan to write a more proper review at a later date (and not at 3:42am). These are some loose thoughts though:
—I never thought that a man admitting to rape would ever be an emotionally powerful moment for me—especially in a documentary.—This is likely the first time I’ve seen a film exploring disability and hadn’t felt deeply disgusted with how disabled bodies were being presented and perceived by the abled gaze—The donations section was specifically impactful to watch. After all the ‘I feel sorry’ statements as the camera remains fixated on the children walking up to them, the recognition of the pity present within the act—and by extension, the pity fundamentally present inside the film’s abled bodied audience—hit me with a feeling I haven’t felt watching and reading stories on disabled existence. Even when those other stories got confrontational, it… wasn’t like this.
I have a lot of other thoughts but Imma… sit on this one for a bit before eventually rewatching it.
Whenever I watch other films about disability, I can’t shake the feeling that what was created wasn’t for me. In most cases, those films devolve into escapist empathy which ultimately serves an objectifying role for the film’s subjects. This film is different.
Sometimes you just need to recognize the pity. Sometimes you just gotta have a good cry before continuing to try your best to thrive inside a system that views you as a defect. Sometimes accepting that ‘shit’s fucked’ is enough.
You don’t have to be this unheard genius. You don’t have to go on this whole adventure to prove your abilities to the world. You don’t have to empowering.
You are allowed to just… be…
Maybe the simple act of survival itself is revolutionary.
