Capitolism and exploitation
My stroke stole many things
Took one side of my smile
Weakened my hand and my leg
Trapped me in bed
But it didn’t leave me angry
Didnt take away my smarts
My job let me back
I’m lucky compared to most
It gave me a visit to the hospital
Which solved my blood presure
Something my primary failed at
And gave an unquestionable diagnosis.
America emploment is at-will
Meaning we are disposable
The social contract of work
Is that workers are exploited
It’s an unwritten expectation
That the employer steals
While the employee struggles
As a disabled worker
We can’t exist that way
We don’t have extra to give
Our counterparts are exploited
And we flail in desperation
So those in power find loopholes
Because they can’t exploit us
They try to get rid of us
Our fighting disturbs the norm
They let us go in retaliation.
One finger pointing out
Four fingers pointing in
Each of us is an other
When seen from afar
My normal is strange
To people not like me
The distance is familiar
In how similar we are
I don’t hate different
I’m curious to its novelty
I’m eager for its unique
My mind is open, if no harm.
This world kinda sucks
If you are smart enough
You may know the details how
And it’s all kinda depressing
Were told it’s ethical to make change
We’re supposed to fight the system
But to live in this world
We have to survive the system
Sometimes small confort is our win
Sometime dissociation is survival
I’m not going to hate myself for existing
Or feel bad for living in this awful world.
Sometimes existing is painful
And there is no rhyme or reason
There is no logic that can fix it
Those of us who survive the pain
Do so by living through it
Those who try to solve us
Make us feel worse
Because we end up comforting
Their disturbed sensibilities
Instead of just being honest
That life can be painful.
What I learned in my activism
If you treat workers well
It’s easy to accomidate disabled employees
But therein lies the problem
Asking compassion of the powerful
Is a kind of cognitive dissonance
Since power not only corrupts
Power is addictive and delusional
And the social contract of power
Is to exploit workers.
I didn’t have a father
To shame me into being a lady
I didn’t have a brother
To make me sympathize
I only had women
To show me how to exist
And they were strong
More influential than patriarchy
They didn’t make excuses for men
Boys will only be boys
If we let them get away with it
Girls have all the same rights
When we demand them
I know better than to believe
My gender makes me less than.
I can hate my oppressors
They might not like it
They probably won’t understand
But that is by design
Power doesn’t want to lose
But there is no reverse sexism
There is no gender war
Women are seeking equanimity
We are taking back our power
You can’t steal what was taken
I don’t hate a gender
I hate a power imbalance
I hate the willfully ignorant
Who want to continue to harm.
It’s not my job to improve you
You can go on your own journey
I’m not interested in changing you
If you want to be better, then do that
But don’t expect me to mold you
Self improvement comes from self
I can’t force you to change
True change is from within
Only you can change you
I either need to accept you
Or be ready to let you go
Either option works for me
I may stick around for now
Only up until you are insufferable
Life has no guarantee and that includes me.
Your judgement is yours to keep
I don’t need to act like you deem
And if fighting is the standard
I defy it with my choices
You may think it’s strong to fight
You may think battle is necessary
You may think you know best
I’m happy to defy your expectations
I get to choose my battles
I get to decide what I need
Sometimes my survival is passive
Comfort can be a part of survival
Just because I could doesn’t mean I will
If you think that is “weak sauce”
I will own my weak sauce.
I’d rather be supported in quiet rooms
Than fought for in loud ones
Bravery is called chivalrous
But it isn’t called kind or loving
Your bravado and blustering is a look
And I want more than fashion
I want to know you hear me everyday
I want a partner who let’s me choose
Maybe the battles are bad look
Maybe I don’t wish any violence
And that includes defending my honor
An honor that I don’t let them define
So if they want to shit on my name
Let them be monkeys throwing shit
While I get to be more evolved
Can we both decide to run away
And hold hands while we’re hiding
Let me defy violence in your embrace
Hold me close as I choose peace.
If you employ me
Don’t mention my health
Even if I speak about it
Don’t ask about progress
Don’t suggest treatment
I can share as much as I want
That doesn’t give you permission
Yes, this dynamic isn’t fair
Because I live in a broken body
And you have power over me
If you feel silenced by me
It’s because of the beeswax
The fact that it isn’t yours
But also it’s the law.
I wasn’t raised to be better
I don’t want to spend my life in bed
This isn’t something I choose
You hear about being in bed
And not having to work
And you feel a moment of envy
But what you want is a vacation
You could use a break and a nap
You want to escape explotation
Because capitolism isn’t fair
But disability isn’t better
Not working means poverty
It means isolation and struggle
You don’t envy chronic illness
You don’t understand not having choices
You can push through a cold
And not end up in pneumonia
You don’t want these deficits
You want a nap and a vacation.
Just because you can’t comprehend
How I exist or manage to survive
Does not give you right to interject
To force yourself into my life
What you see as me struggling
Is my fiercly independant spirit
I’m not a lost child or pitiful creature
If you insist on perceiving me at all
Speak to me like you would a stranger
Respect my space and right to fail
I didn’t invite or ask for your help
You’re not my helper or savior.
The persistant tickle in the throat
The burn in the middle of the chest
The expanding deep in the gut
The crackling of bone in the joints
The pulsing in the balls of the foot
The tight swollen itch of the skin
The pressure of sinus in the face
The sting of hot and irritated skin
The knot of contracted muscle
The little pains all add up
And eat away at my day.
The world made us con artist
“Don’t make it your personality”
Probably because it’s uncomfortable
This is their weakness, not ours.
I’m trying not to blame you
For not understanding me
I try to provide metaphors
To explain lived experience
Of life with chronic illness
Because my simple words
Are dismissed as complaints
As if we all have the same life
But we are not the same
When I speak of fatigue
I’m not talking about needing sleep
I’m talking about a lack of recovery
I’m talking about limited energy
That sleep doesn’t refresh
You translate this into your experience
That life is tiring and overwhelming
You belittle through ignorance
I don’t have the energy
To waste being mad at you.
Fighting for our needs
Should be ridiculous
Instead it’s common place
Necessity is monitized
Needs are considered priveledge
A priveledge with a pricetag
Capitalist make money off needs
A rare few get to be comfortable
The rest of us must fight
The struggle becomes expected
Strength becomes required
Life is treated as a battle
And not everyone gets to live.
Individuals can be kind
But put them is a group
And they become a gang
Groupthink brings out the worst
Petty behavior becomes standard
Hating on outsiders is the norm
When in plural, people are bad
And the desire to join in
Can make the best person less so
In plural, people are mean.
I don’t want any person to die
But capitolism emboldens preditors
At what point do I get to see them
Seperate like they see us
As I am prey in the world of money
Should I wish long life on my hunters
Should I give them grace
I’m the face of my servitude
Or can I forgive myself
For wanting monsters to die
For valid anger at exploitation
I try to forgive my petty thoughts
I don’t want them to die
But I do want to remove their power.
For those who don’t have it
Health is not our friend
It isn’t even an enemy
More like an estranged relative
Judgemental and unkind
Judging us on some standard
That we can’t fulfill
Making us feel small
Tricking us into believing
That everyone else is fine
We’re the painful exception
A sore thumb
In a world of thriving fingers.
Most of life is morally neutral
Harm can occur without intent
It can be twisted to encourage harm
Power is a negative influence
And blind obedience isn’t a virtue
My advise is common sense
Which isn’t often common
Try not to harm yourself
Try not to do harm to others
Trust what others say of themselves
Don’t assume you know best for all
Pay attention to cause and effect
Try to be a person open to differences
Understand life is complicated
Any sermon that suggest otherwise
Was probably written by priveledge
Was spoken with intent to oppress.
Choosing not to see
You act like it’s small
You encourage keeping it unspoken
Through your opacity
You lack of action is insidious
By keeping it hidden
You are the problem.
The law doesn’t stop discrimination
The letter of the law
Requires reasonable doubt
Hidden things aren’t always provable.
I know better than to trust a man
Particularly a cis white one
They’re used to their priveledge
Their reality is an echo chamber
They expect to be deferred to
They want me to be a good girl
While my nature is iconoclast
They want to fight and win
While I want to survive
I avoid, not looking to confront
I don’t have to engage
Under rules they define
My defiance is silent
My rebellion is on my terms.
I must remove the colonial in me
Must remove misogyny
Don’t want to act like a man
As men are predatory
They choose to ignore priveledge
I’d have to be a bully to fit in
And dismiss delicacy as a joke
I don’t want to be a man
Or to have men’s rights
I want to be a woman
With my own rights
I want all people to be equal
I want priveledge removed
So I must start with myself
Removed priveledge requires loss
In the form of giving back.
They didn’t ask about my insomnia
Sleepless three days after my stroke
They wake you every 4 hours
And don’t close the doors
They asked about food preferences
But couldn’t answer my questions
And kept bringing me food I couldn’t eat
Because I have food allergies
But since it wasn’t anaphylaxis
They didn’t care if I shit my pants
While trapped in a bed after my stroke
They were anoyed when I spoke up
So no sleep and not enough food
Three days after a stroke
In transfer they messed up my meds
So I was in pain all the next night
Sent entertainment director for complaints
I wasn’t looking for attention
They just couldn’t fix my issues
Their system was broken
And I had the audacity to point it out.
I don’t understand your lack of pain
They speak in platitudes
Profit has a tangible downside
People think medicine is care
And drug companies seek money
Human need and money are in conflict
Money undermines compassion
Requires doctors to reach monetary goals
The money is winning.
You can’t defeat a bully on their terms
Most days I don’t hate people
I remember we’re flawed humans
Who rarely intend to harm
And the people in my life
Are mostly kind with intent
But then there are the exception
The loud and ugly minority
That make me doubt humanity
They bully and bluster and pontificate
They find joy in putting others down
And I really hate those people
I feel small in their angry presence
They hurt my feeling with intent
They make me doubt the world
I know memory will fade with time
Distance will bring me perspective
But today I really don’t like them
Still scorched by their recent kiss.
Would you like to be spoken over
Have your story told by someone else
Someone that didn’t ask permission
Didn’t even ask for your take
Telling a second hand impression
Speaking to experience they never had
Casting you as a paper cutout
Good or bad or childlike or inspiring
A being without dimensions
They even tell you the words to use
How to describe your own story
This is the disabled experience
Having our stories told by others
Don’t be an advocate in place of us
Nothing about us without us.
I’m not a winner
my hard work hasn’t lead
to some great reward
I’m just getting by
I haven’t been blessed
by easy chances or ready success
I’m very aware that life is hard
I don’t have lots of friends
and I’m not easy to know
popularity isn’t something I have
or even something I strive for
I’m terrible at meeting new people
experience has taught me that only a few
won’t blanch when they see the real me
I’m not a pretty girl
you could call me big or bold
but never dainty, graceful, or serene
I’m stuborn and prideful
I might know how to play the game
but I can’t stomach it
so I sit on the sidelines
I won’t give everything
so that everyone will like me
I’d rather like myself
Maybe I am to be pittied
I don’t have that much
just my self respect
people I’d trust with my life
and a passion that drives me
measured against the world
I’m not a winner
some might even go so far
as to call me a loser
but at least I’m a happy loser
instead of a depressed sucess.
Polite society is ridiculous
Assigning arbitrary behaviors
Enforcing made up rules
It may teach some to fit in
But it’s end purpose is exclusion
Polite isn’t kind or compassionate
It’s duplicitous and backhanded
A lack of social knowledge
And it culls you from the herd
There is no survival purpose
Just subtle ways to harm outsiders.
Don’t talk to me about bootstraps
I was raised in sneakers
And my laces won’t hold my weight
But that’s kinda the point
“Pull yourself up by your bootstraps”
Is the dismissive shorthand of apathy
The saying is a posture of priveledge
As if misfortune is a personal problem
As if an independent spirit is the cure
Even those born with boots
Can’t pull themselves up by straps
The fortunate prescribe a magic trick
An absurd act of impossibility
Knowing that boots don’t trickle down
Knowing that straps cant make us fly
We are held down by our own feet
Our absurdity is asking for help
Some extra hands to lift us up.
This is harder than it sounds
Work is presented as not plesant
The social contract doesn’t suggest joy
Work is a pain we must endure
But life is too short to hate
You give a job so much time
Aim for minor annoyance
Or find a way to be grateful
Find a way to settle into acceptance
The gamble against misery is worth it
Find compromise through choice
Find a way to be less miserable.
Youth, beauty, and health,
