ADAPTing to the election results: True Patriot Love

While I was sullenly contemplating the election results, I went out to lunch with a friend, a much older friend, who has been involved in disability activism since she was my age, so, for nearly 40 years, if my math is correct. She was keeping close watch on her phone, and showing me pictures and tweets from Washington, DC, of her friends and allies getting arrested while in Paul Ryan's office, fighting cuts to Medicare. My friend was recalling all the times she had been in DC herself getting arrested to fight for the rights of the disabled.
I was in awe. I felt like humbled, because hours earlier, I had been contemplating fleeing Canada in order to find greener pastures in Sweden or Norway for the disabled, queer progressive and her disabled, queer, trans girlfriend. But these people, my elders, including my friend, who has been a mother figure to me while I have lived in Montana, was showing me the proof of what can be done if you stay and fight.
I will never judge anyone who decides to seek out a better life for themselves in another country. But I have decided, after fearfully leafing through a Swedish dictionary, that I can and will stay to fight for Canada up to 2015 and beyond. I'm tired of running, for one. And secondly, I began thinking of how people like Harper and conservatives had stolen and modified the word "patriot" and created this artificial dichotomy between "true" Canadians and everyone else.
I'm a patriot too. I'm a Canadian too. And this is my country as much as it is for a conservative anglo Christian who was born in Canada. And I can no longer passively allow such language, such ideas, such exceptionalism run rampant at the expense of the happiness, safety, and liberty of my fellow Canadians, my beautiful girlfriend, and myself.
My elders in the disability community, thank you for giving me a valuable lesson in courage.

The Flowers That Bloom in the Spring, Tra-Lah!

Well, Jarrah at Gender Focus today directed me to this particular gem of bigotry: A florist in New Brunswick who refused to sell flowers to a wedding planner after she learned that the flowers would be used in a same sex wedding.

Thankfully, as Jarrah put it:

The thing is, while Canadians have a right to hold their own religious beliefs, the right doesn’t extend to allow people to use their religion to discriminate against others when operating a business or providing a public service. Saying your florist won’t provide flowers for gay weddings is the same as saying your coffee shop or restaurant or funeral home or bed and breakfast won’t serve members of a certain minority group.

There we go. Bless my new home and not-so native land.

But it got me thinking, as a new Canadian and a newly out queer woman dating another queer woman, about my future wedding. Just ask my girlfriend, she will tell you, in spite of myself, that I'm a wedding junkie. I eat up wedding information for brunch. I have an entire folder devoted to wedding ideas on my computer, neatly divided between cake ideas, dresses for myself, dresses for my girlfriend, dresses for our bridesmaids, you get the idea. I can't help myself. It comes from partial extravagance in my bloodstream, partially because it's an extension for my love of making things and crafts, and partially due to my deep-seated love of theatrics.

My girlfriend and I are lucky enough to both be Canadians, so we have been given our legal right to marry when we feel ready. One of the reasons I am leaving America is because I was very aware of the dangers living here together would pose, and because I am hyper aware of our status as second class citizens. I didn't want to spend the rest of my Aprils looking to tick a box labelled "Married in Massachusetts but doesn't have marriage recognized at the federal level." But as the article above demonstrated, Canada is not free from bigotry and attitudes which make life for gay couples difficult. We will still have to contend with asshole attitudes, even within the beautifully gay friendly city of Victoria. Whenever I do my random customary "wedding hunts" for items of interest from Victoria, I keep my eyes peeled for signs of trouble, or, on a positive note, a little rainbow somewhere symbolizing a commitment to welcoming all couples.

But alas, I'm afraid that the biggest opposition of all to my wedding isn't going to come from the baker of our wedding cake, or our florist, or the dressmaker. The greatest obstacle I face in having my dream wedding to my girlfriend is my family. This was the most difficult part of coming to terms with my own queerness and my girlfriend's new identity: I realized right away that my mother, who threatened to not have a relationship with me if I dated women when I told her I was bisexual, would never accept us, or give us her blessing. I am waiting until I am 100% financially independent and have all of my belongings with me in Victoria before I choose to tell her the truth. For now, she still thinks I'm dating a man, and is eagerly discussing a possible future wedding with me when I call her. All that excitement will be blasted away by the news that there will be two brides. So deep is her intolerance, I considered having a fake heterosexual wedding between myself and my girlfriend, before hormones and surgery come into the picture, just to fool her.

But I can't bring myself to do this. It's a dishonesty to myself, to my girlfriend, and all queer couples looking to get hitched. I am learning to accept that my mother will not accept me. She and I have always had a strained relationship after my dad's death, but this will probably break it. In the end though, I'm hoping she at least doesn't hang up when I call her on her birthday.

I guess what I am trying to say with this whole mess of a post is this: Being queer means getting over the bullshit and demands of other people in order to fulfil your dreams. Don't let anyone, a florist or your parents, stop you from having those wishes come true.

Goodbye to America

Well, now it is official: In two months time, I will be leaving the United States to go to school and live in Canada. I will be a student in the Asian & Pacific Studies program at the University of Victoria. I don't intend on ever returning to America, except to work for a year or more to work within the confines of the Student Loan Forgiveness Program.

I didn't anticipate that this would be happening so soon. I had originally planned to stay here until spring of 2012. But the political and financial circumstances here have forced me out of my country, essentially.

But I am glad. In the immortal words of Leonard Cohen, "I love the country, but I can't stand the scene." I have lived here all of my life, 21 years, a meagre amount in the grand scheme of things, but a lot has happened during that time. I feel that things have become truly unstable here for me in America, as a disabled person, as a woman, as a non-Christian, and as a queer person of Jewish ancestry.

I never before would have advocated flying away with my tail between my legs. I am by nature a fighter, and I would, if I could, be willing to buckle down and show the world that I still believe in fighting for what's right in my home country. But I also have to think about my own education and my own safety. I also have to consider in the long run how much good I can do in the world. I feel that I will have the greater power to fulfil my dreams and aspirations in Canada. I will have a social safety net to depend on, a culture which is not rapidly flushing in a downward spiral of willful ignorance and cruel disregard for the vulnerable, and my beautiful girlfriend to aid me all the while. It is in this environment that I can flourish and engage in my academic future and legal future.

My talents and ambitions were not considered worth funding in America. Montanan students were collectively thrown under the bus with the slashing to upper education funding. We were considered a liability by the Montana legislature, because we were educated, passionate, and willing to challenge the dominant paradigm. So, they can pat themselves on the back for forcing me to leave, but the joke is on them. My exile will strengthen my resolve to make this world a better place for all people. From Canada, I will become unstoppable in my resolve to bring about justice, freedom, equality, and safety for all, and these lessons won't stop at the border.

I believe in Canada. It's not a perfect country either, far from it. But I know it will give me a chance to find my way as an advocate of all I believe in, as a student, and as an aspiring lawyer.

Goodbye, America.

Best Country for Autistic People?

I got curious tonight, and I googled "Best Country for Disabled People". I didn't get any real statistics or data on what the best country would be for a disabled person to live in. Primarily, I got travel tips and forum posts on the topic. Sometimes this included the most wheelchair-friendly tourist destinations, or places where you could, if you were not visibly blind (Mock me if you must for that wording) take a service dog without scrutiny. The closest I got to my desired result was a forum thread on the topic of the best countries for disabled people to reside in, with common choices being the UK, New Zealand, and Scandinavia.

Funny, I've always wanted to live in the latter two, particularly Norway or Sweden, and often dreamed of a home in New Zealand. But that's for reasons not related to my disability... Or is it?

Being a disability-friendly country goes beyond having essential legal rights enshrined in the law, accessible schools, public places, businesses and walkways, a high employment rate for the disabled, and high quality healthcare. Some things are beyond the power of politicians, and are related to the nature of the disability itself, varying. In this post, I'm going to talk about my own disabilities and how the ideal country for me stacks up because of it, but I'm eager for my readers on the spectrum and who are disabled in general to share their vision of an ideal nation or their dream destination. :)

With Autism, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, of course I want strong protections for the disabled written into the laws of the land. But politicians can't enforce certain things which make my disabilities run haywire. They can't cull their population just because I find crowds anxiety-inducing. And even though some countries, such as Japan, have been delightful and noble in their attempts to clean up their air pollution and reduce smog, you can't immediately clean up all that filth, though they should at least try. Plus, some areas (Missoula, Montana *cough cough wheeze*) are natural collectors of air pollution based on weather, climate, and geographical conditions. And it's going to be an uphill battle to get people to stop driving awfully loud motorcycles with no mufflers or souping up their crappy cars to make them sound faster because I find the noise unbearable. And they certainly can't demand that the winter season move along faster just because my extremities are more sensitive to icy temperatures and I get stiff and ill during the dry cold.

You get the idea. Based on my particular disabilities, the ideal country would have a mild climate with an ocean breeze (To wash away unpleasant smells) many quiet towns where I can pass the time without urban noise irritating me, minimal air pollution, and friendly people with a developed sense of personal space who wouldn't insist on invading or accidentally break through my bubble of privacy. It would also help if said place had beautiful architecture, lovely sunsets, and plenty of green spaces. So, LonelyPlanet posters, you are right, the winner of that particular contest can be none other than: Norway:

Since I was little, it was a dream of mine to move to Norway. The two "dream towns" I had in mind were Ålesund:

And Tromsø as well:

Tragically, it will be a long time before I am able to make the great move to Norway. In the meantime, I've decided to get away from the grotty trapped air and dry mountain climate of Missoula, and make an odyssey to the closest thing I'll find to Norway in North America:

Victoria, BC.

This one has the added benefit of having a university, and a wee bit of family history to it. My father got to Maui, where I grew up, by participating in the Victoria to Maui Sailboat race, about 40 years ago. How's that for a special connection?

The only downside to Victoria is that English is, to my sensitive ears, not nearly as melodic a language as Norwegian, and as a tourist town, Victoria tends to have more crowds than Ålesund would during the summer. But it also is, in many ways, this autistic girl's dream town. There's a multitude of botanical gardens, and a bug museum, a butterfly house, a large beautiful museum, and many restaurants, including an Indian one (Which seems to be Missoula's biggest flaw according to tourists, the lack of an Indian restaurant) which may not seem like autism-centric things, but they help more than people realize. Quiet, peaceful spaces like gardens make it easier for me to clear my head, and there's a certain sensory pleasure to being surrounded by insects, particularly dragonflies, praying mantises, and butterflies, my three favourites. They also work well as places to take autistic children as a special reward once in a while.

So, readers, whether you are autistic or have another disability, what is your idea of a dream country? Any of them come close to being the one you want to pack up and move to, and why?