A Proud Pause

An illustrated note on the resourcefulness required by multiple marginalisation

Hullo my lovely readers

A content note for use of two reclaimed slurs.

This week’s letter is perhaps best framed as a simultaneously appropriate and ironic follow-on from last week’s, which was inspired (in part) by the adjacent nature of (LGBTQIA+) Pride Month and Disability Pride Month in June and July.

This weekend is (LGBTQIA+) Pride weekend in London, and today I was wheeling in the Parade, as part of the Access Safe Space. (For those of you who may have read a previous letter, “Wheely Proud”, you may remember that it was prior iterations of this experience [now a mostly annual tradition for me] which led me to write the poem I shared in that letter.)

But more on the specifics of this year will follow in a later letter.

Because, as we were waiting to join the Parade, my left footplate decided to fall off.

Entirely unprovoked, with no warning, the bolt snapped and sheared.

(In the context, this felt like blatant discrimination on the part of my wheelchair…!)

Thankfully, as suggested in this letter’s subtitle, being a queer and trans crip wending my way through this world means I’m resourceful – and so are my team.

We tied my Bi Pride flag around my legs to keep them both secure, and wheeled and marched anyway.

Now I’m back home and supported by a collection of cookery books, so I hope it’s understandable that I’ll pause there for this week with some photographic evidence of that solution, and a subtle shout-out to my PA, I, who reads this newsletter but who may not wish to be named – but is an utter star.

[Image description: A photo of Jessi in their powered wheelchair with both feet (in rainbow Converse shoes!) balanced on their right footplate. Their left footplate is absent, and their legs are tied to it, and together, by the pink, purple and blue material of their Bi Pride flag. /End image description]

Thank you so much for reading, and love and solidarity until next time,

Jx