At my liberal arts undergrad, I always introduced myself with, “My name is SK, I use he/him pronouns, and my identity exists at the intersection of physical disability (wheelchair use) and LGBTQ+ belonging.”

This reductionist introduction never sat with me well. These labels grossly neglect the human behind the lived experience. Apart from the disability, I describe myself as amicable, spontaneous, driven, and curious. I love to travel, having the fortune to have been to 34 states and 4 countries for conferences, education, family, or leisure. In my work, I back my words with evidence. I encourage accessible education and supporting social welfare for all. However, my question has always been what am I in the eyes of others? We have built a socially-enforced view of disability. In the eyes of others, I am often infantilized, the target of religious savior complexes, or praised as a hero for typical independence. I am disabled by these attitudes and the environment–like stairs in front of buildings, crumbling or unsafe curb cuts, barriers to public transportation, and inaccessible opportunities that many get to enjoy.

My mantra had always been, “I do what I can and forgive the rest.” But forgiveness is not enough anymore. I am more than my disability. Do not let this perspective narrow or discourage your fight, but instead embrace the lived experience—the humanity—behind the many barriers faced by those around us or afar. Let this coarse introduction be a plea to fight for and enact change within our bandwidths. We are the ever-growing beating hearts of an incredible series of evolutionary changes. We are a brilliant, resourceful, social species that functions in communities. We are more than our labels. Thus, as a community, we should leverage our abilities to amend these wrongs. The wrongs faced by you, me, those far, and those near.

“Give me your tired, your poor. Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door”
– The New Colossus, Emma Lazarus (1883).

Signed,
SK Baker (he/him, 24)