Reading Response- (Dis)ability

In the article Becoming Dishuman: thinking about the human through dis/ability by Daniel Goodley and Katherine Runswick-Cole, they say that when we talk of someone with a disability or disabilities means that we are saying that they are less than what they are. When we use the term disability, we are saying that a person that is viewed less then as they would be if they were ‘able’. Intellectual disability is always profound because it enlarges, disrupts, pauses, questions and clarifies what it means to be human. Intellectual disability disrespects the human but it also desires the human. When we speak of intellectual disabilities, we are thankful that disability is also merged with humanness. In the paper Goodley and Runswick-Cole describe that “dis/human means that we recognize the norm, the pragmatic and political value of claiming the norm, but we always seek to trouble the norm” (Goodley and Runswick-Cole). When I googled the definition of a disability, this is what came up, “A disability is any condition that makes it more difficult for a person to do certain activities or interact with the world around them. These conditions or impairments may be cognitive, developmental, intellectual, mental, physical, sensory, or a combination of multiple factors”.

A lot of people’s understanding when they hear the term “disability” is “handicapped”, “cripple”, or “special needs”. This is very sad and unfortunate to see. But the dis/ability makes us look into it more and look at the ideas that we have always taken for granted. The dis/ability challenges the ideas about what is the norms of humans and their ability. “Disability” is a negative word, in the paper, Goodley and Runswick-Cole wants us to trouble all of the other ideas that sound negative. As a society, most people than not, view disabled people different then human. They view them as opposites. Disabled people are still humans, everyone has their own qualities. Every single person is special in their own ways.

In the article Stolen Bodies, Reclaimed Bodies: Disability and Queerness by Eli Clare, One thing that really stuck out in the article was that Jerry Lewis raises money and is used to find a ‘cure’. The money that he raises does not fund wheelchairs, ramps, lift bars, or lawyers to file disability discrimination lawsuits, but it does indeed fund research for a cure, a repair of bodies seen as broken, and for an end to disability.  In the article, “Disability, not defined by our bodies, but rather by the material and social conditions of ableism; not by the need to use a wheelchair, but rather by the stairs that have no accompanying ramp or elevator” (Clare). We do not need a ‘cure’ to fix our bodies that are different. Each body is different than each other’s and that is okay. This is what makes our identity and our makes us each our own special people. I believe that in our society, we need to make everything accessible for all people, with dis/abilities or not. As a society we also need to work to trouble our views on different bodies and what are considered to be normal. In both of the articles I read, they both show that it is able people’s minds that needs to be troubled.

Self Analysis- Being Canadian

  1. Normative Narratives: Being Canadian

Reading all of my peer’s blogs and their own stories about being Canadian made me realize that so many people have similar ideas about being Canadian, but a lot of people have different opinions about what being Canadian means to them. Most people wrote about hockey, how friendly and welcoming Canadians are, our wicked cold winters, Tim Horton’s, the Canadian flag and our maple syrup. Which when I get asked what it means to be Canadian and what Canadian Identity is, I think of all those things. All of those things are known as normative narratives.   

 In my blog, I talked about what makes me most Canadian and I explained how I am from a small town and I grew up playing hockey. Our small town got a Tim Horton’s and I also believe that Tim’s is part of our Canadian identity. The two blog posts that stuck out the most to me was Olivia’s blog and also Karlee’s blog. We all talked about hockey and how it is a part of our Canadian identity. All three of us grew up in small towns in Saskatchewan and hockey was a part of us growing up. As children, we all remember most of our time spent in the hockey rink, watching our friends, and family play their most important games. For me, that is where a lot of my childhood memories comes from, either watching hockey from the stands or cheering them on or on the ice playing with my own team. Hockey is one of the biggest normative narratives in Canadian identity.

In Olivia’s blog, Karlee’s blog and my own blog, we also all explained how Canada is so friendly and welcoming to everyone and how we were always around people. When I think of Canada, I also think of it as friendly. For all of us, it was so easy to get together with people, as living in a small town, you see the same people everywhere. Most likely you will see everyone at the hockey rink, and everyone always has a smile and talks to you. Another Canadian normative narrative is being friendly and welcoming new people with open arms.

2) Disrupting Normative Narratives

In my blog, Karlee’s blog and Olivia’s blog post about being Canadian, we all talked about all of us girls either playing hockey or watching hockey when we were growing up. Karlee mentioned how she did not play hockey, because there was not enough interest in girls playing and she wasn’t interested in playing with the boys while growing up. The biggest disrupting normative narrative that I noticed between our blogs is gender roles and stereotypes. Lots of people assume ‘hockey is for boys’ and are really shocked when they find out that girls played on a boy’s hockey team growing up. Lots of people just assume that girls do dance or figure skating and they think that boys don’t do those sports. Because of the gender norms, girls are more likely to go into dance and gymnastics and boys are more likely to go in football and hockey. Even though hockey is a huge part of Canadian identity, you are still Canadian just because you did not play it. If you are Canadian, then you most likely grew up at the cold hockey rink no matter if you played or not.

Another normative narrative I noticed in a few of the blogs I read about being Canadian, is that Canadians are known as being really friendly, welcoming and polite. And I do agree with that, as being a Canadian, we are really friendly and polite. But something that disrupts this normative narrative is that Canadians still do bully people, are mean to people they do not like, and also Canadians do still commit crimes and get into trouble with the police.

Self-Story #4: Gender Identification

When I was young, probably in Novice hockey my twin sister and I would change in the same dressing room with the boys. We had to go to the bathroom and put our long underwear on. In atom, we were a bit older so it was time that we got our own dressing room. In Rosetown rink we got a nice dressing room for the girls, then we had to walk down to the boy’s dressing room when they were ready for our coaches to talk to us. We played boys hockey until our second year bantam, then we went and played onto a girls’ team. Throughout the years of playing hockey, we have had the nicest of dressing rooms and also the worst and grossest of dressing rooms. In a couple rinks we got put into the janitor’s closet and in a few different rinks we also got put with the girls off the other team. That never ended well!

When we played boys hockey, the boys on the other team would always try to hit us because ‘we were girls’.  Just because we were different genders as the boys, they just expected us to be scared of them and that they could do whatever to us and we would just take it and not do anything about it. Little did they know that they were wrong. No matter what we kept up with them and we also did not let them push us around and control us. That is when I first came to know myself as gendered.

Self-Story 3: Socioeconomic Status

All throughout my elementary and high school years I have always played sports. It was probably during grade 6 or 7 when I realized what ‘classes’ were and that my family and I were in the middle class. We did not have lots of extra money as a family, with my parents pilling bills, making sure the house was full of groceries, and also with my twin sister and I doing every school and extracurricular sport.We played volleyball, soft ball, slo-pitch, badminton, basketball, hockey, and we also were big into rodeoing and riding horses. A few kids in my grade were known as the ‘rich kids’ and got everything handed to them. My family and I didn’t care how much money we have left over once everything was paid for and for the sports, well that was worth it because that was when my sister and I were the happiest. we were also lucky enough to have the food that we did on our table. Some of the kids in my class didn’t have that opportunity.

During grade 3 and those younger grades, we were too young to care about money. we didn’t care who had the most money or nicer clothes. All we knew was were all the same and just wanted to play. Grade 6 came, and some of my friend started to talk about all that stuff. All of a sudden that is what it was all about. Which, it really sucked because the wealthy-class wouldn’t talk or hangout with the poor class. But for me, I included everyone n matter what, because it honestly doesn’t matter what class you are in for you to pick your friends. I was so thankful for everything I was given and able to do, all my sports, have horses all my life, have food on the table everyday, and most importantly I was the happiest child.

Self-story 1 – Being Canadian

My home is in Rosetown Saskatchewan. I have lived on a farm ten minutes out of Rosetown. On my farm, I live with my Mom, Dad, and twin sister. We have horses, sheep, dogs, cats, goats and cows on our farm. Rosetown is a small town populated with around 2,500 people. What makes us most Canadian in Rosetown is when we stop at Tim Horton’s to grab a coffee, while on the way to a hockey game.

                What makes me Canadian is that I play hockey and I rodeo. I have played hockey in Rosetown since I could walk and until I was fifteen. All those years I played hockey with the boys, so I learnt to crosscheck and play with my body pretty fast. When I was fifteen, in my second year bantam, I played midget hockey on a girls’ team centered out of Dinsmore. I played on the girls’ midget team until I was eighteen, and in grade twelve.

                In my last year of midget hockey, a nightmare that every hockey player has became reality. On February 9th, 2019, it was my second last league game. I was getting excited for playoffs and provincials if we made it. Five minutes into the game, I went to stop and I heard two pops in my leg, so I hit the ice and couldn’t get up. We were playing in Leroy, so they ambulanced me to Humboldt for X-Rays. The doctor in Humboldt referred me to a surgeon in Saskatoon for the next morning. On February 10th, I went to get X-Rays again and to see a surgeon. The surgeon said it was one of the worst breaks he has seen. So on February 12th, I was back in to get surgery. My surgeon put a plate and six screws in my leg. The worst news I wanted to hear was that I was going to be out for the rest of the league games, playoff games and also provincials if my team made it, in my grade twelve year.  I watched my team from the bench, cheering them on through playoffs. My team ended up winning the North league, to play the South for the provincial finals. We played Lafleche and it was best of three. The third game went nto overtime and eighteen seconds in, my twin scored and we were the Provincial Champs in 2019!

                This is by far the most amazing moment in my life and what I think about when someone asks me about being Canadian, is definitely that year of hockey. It is the most amazing feeling, especially when you grew up playing hockey and it is one of you favourite sports. Hockey is Canada’s sport and it is well-known. That is what makes me Canadian.

Self-Story 2- My First Memory

My first memory of noticing that other people have different colour skin was when I was in Grade three. Being from a small town, we were just used to looking around and all we would see was white people. One of my new classmates just moved to Canada from the Philippines. I ended up graduating with him, and when we got to high school it was way more diverse. I would take a look around and see so many different colours of skin and not just white.

With us being in grade three and this ‘new kid’ coming to join our class, we all made sure he felt welcomed. We let him play with us and we included him in everything. We introduced him to a lot of things that Canadians do, and we also asked him about his country. He was so kind and absolutely hilarious. He became closer with all of us and we ended up all being really good friends.

To me this was so important because we made him feel welcomed even though he might have felt that he didn’t fit in with us just because of his skin colour. When we got into high school, there was so many more people who moved to Rosetown from all different countries and we did the exact same thing to them as well. By the day of our graduation, they were apart of us. We were all a team, no matter what colour of skin someone had.