Piss and Pity: A Disabled Person's Eternal Search for an Accessible Convenience
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In something bordering on the miraculous, though not for religious reasons of any kind, I recently rose from ongoing challenges of poor health to perform a spoken word set in a new Hastings venue.
To my delight, this venue has level access, a spacious entrance, and reasonable lighting. I'd been offered the headline slot by the organiser who had gone to some effort to make the event inclusive, for which I thank him.
The event was packed, the crowd eager. I won't lie, it was hard, and my slot began at around 9:15pm - a challenge, considering that these days I need to be in bed and ready for sleep by 10pm in order to maintain my health.
The organiser did well, but like many - many, many, in fact - we're all up against it when we have no money and no easy funding pots to create access, when it comes to the essential need of all human beings to use the toilet.
Call it what you want, and we have a lot of terminology to draw from. As a child, I rather favoured bog, though I remember my grandmother insisting I learn the word lavatory. There was also the garderobe of the medieval era.
Sadly, on my performance night, I was kept off the bog, the lav, or whatever you call it - along with several audience members - because there simply wasn't one that we could use at the venue.
I knew this in advance and researched some back-ups, which were not that easy to get to. Here's the crux: non-disabled people seek out a convenience on auto-pilot. Occasionally, I amuse myself with other disabled activists by imagining the outcry and fury that would explode if the use of lavatory facilities was banned or blocked for everyone.
'Who's Virginia Woolf Afraid Of?'
Stephen Unwin explores how the famed author's views about disability were typical of a growing intellectual endorsement of the dangerous ideology of eugenics in the early 20th century
Stephen Unwin
So why is it okay for disabled people to have to live this way?
This is, yet again, a demonstration of the social model of disability - whereby barriers (overwhelmingly removable) create disability.
This brings me to the huge misconception that it's all about steps and basic available space. Wheelchair users like myself do confront this discrimination head-on. I may find some grit to perform a new poetry set, sacrificing some precious energy for the privilege, but relieving myself is a blunt reality.
Others within the disabled community face barriers that may not be so obvious, yet solutions are likewise often simple. Visually-impaired people appreciate decent light and accessible signage. Those wi
To support its work, subscribe to the monthly Byline Times print edition, packed with exclusive investigations, news, and analysis.
Help us build the better media Britain deserves
In something bordering on the miraculous, though not for religious reasons of any kind, I recently rose from ongoing challenges of poor health to perform a spoken word set in a new Hastings venue.
To my delight, this venue has level access, a spacious entrance, and reasonable lighting. I'd been offered the headline slot by the organiser who had gone to some effort to make the event inclusive, for which I thank him.
The event was packed, the crowd eager. I won't lie, it was hard, and my slot began at around 9:15pm - a challenge, considering that these days I need to be in bed and ready for sleep by 10pm in order to maintain my health.
The organiser did well, but like many - many, many, in fact - we're all up against it when we have no money and no easy funding pots to create access, when it comes to the essential need of all human beings to use the toilet.
Call it what you want, and we have a lot of terminology to draw from. As a child, I rather favoured bog, though I remember my grandmother insisting I learn the word lavatory. There was also the garderobe of the medieval era.
Sadly, on my performance night, I was kept off the bog, the lav, or whatever you call it - along with several audience members - because there simply wasn't one that we could use at the venue.
I knew this in advance and researched some back-ups, which were not that easy to get to. Here's the crux: non-disabled people seek out a convenience on auto-pilot. Occasionally, I amuse myself with other disabled activists by imagining the outcry and fury that would explode if the use of lavatory facilities was banned or blocked for everyone.
'Who's Virginia Woolf Afraid Of?'
Stephen Unwin explores how the famed author's views about disability were typical of a growing intellectual endorsement of the dangerous ideology of eugenics in the early 20th century
Stephen Unwin
So why is it okay for disabled people to have to live this way?
This is, yet again, a demonstration of the social model of disability - whereby barriers (overwhelmingly removable) create disability.
This brings me to the huge misconception that it's all about steps and basic available space. Wheelchair users like myself do confront this discrimination head-on. I may find some grit to perform a new poetry set, sacrificing some precious energy for the privilege, but relieving myself is a blunt reality.
Others within the disabled community face barriers that may not be so obvious, yet solutions are likewise often simple. Visually-impaired people appreciate decent light and accessible signage. Those wi
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