Get Right or Get Left: Dismantling Ableism, Racism, and on the Radical Imaginations of Transnational Black Disabled Feminist Solidarities

Activist, writer, advocate, and speaker, Vilissa Thompson. Photo courtesy of Vilissa Thompson.

By Jaimee A. Swift

Vilissa Thompson (she/her/hers) is making it known that Black disabled women, femmes, and non-binary folks are not waiting for a seat at the table––they have destroyed that “table” and are creating their own spaces and platforms on their own terms.

Trigger Words: Ableism and anti-Blackness.

Vilissa Thompson’s interview is a part of ‘Voices in Movement’ December 2019 theme, ‘On Belonging.’ To read the descriptor of ‘On Belonging’, please click here.

Vilissa Thompson, 34, is one of the most dynamic leaders and activists of our generation. Hailing from Winnsboro, South Carolina, through her work as a licensed master social worker social worker, writer, advocate, consultant, and speaker, Thompson is committed to dismantling racism, ableism, and misogynoir that pervades in Black, white, and non-Black communities of color. She is dedicated in addressing white and Black cisheteronormative ableist revisionist history that has tried to erase the rich and beautiful legacy and contemporary leadership of Black disabled women, femmes, and non-binary folks. Most importantly, she wants people to know that herself and other Black disabled women, femmes, and non-binary people are not waiting to be seen, heard, or recognized––they are doing the work and always have done the work to center themselves in the conversation and do so on their own terms and by their own means. In other words, Thompson’s political and personal stance is pretty clear: if you are not right, you can get left because ableism and racism has no place in the struggle for Black liberation.

The founder and CEO of Ramp Your Voice!, a self-advocacy and empowerment movement for people with disabilities, Thompson is also the creator of #DisabilityTooWhite, a hashtag that provided a pointed critique to the media, political and community leadership, and public policy that often centered whiteness and white disabled people and overlooked the livelihoods of Black people, people of color, and poor disabled people. In creating the Black Disabled Woman Syllabus, “an online and continually growing tool that has been cited as a critical addition to current discussions on women’s health, carceral reform, body positivity, and mental health.”

Thompson spoke with me about challenging racism and ableism in white and Black communities; why knowing about the radicalism of Black disabled women, femmes, and non-binary folks is critical to and for global, Black disabled feminist solidarities; the importance of honoring our Black disabled feminist ancestors; and why her grandmother is a Black Woman Radical who forever inspires her.

What was the moment or moments that led you into your activism?

Vilissa Thompson (VT): “It actually started when I created Ramp Your Voice in 2013. Before that, I was actually writing about disability through the lens of a social worker, since I am a social worker, and I saw that there were not too many people doing that through the disability landscape. At that time, many of us who I consider are now veterans in the scene now, started up around the same time in 2013 or 2014. It was then that I really saw the importance of combining my professional experience as a social worker and combining my lived experience as a Black disabled woman and doing so in a way that was intentional. I know that particularly as Black folks, when you talk about ‘Black-only’ things, people try to pigeon-hole you into that and for me, I started off talking about things generally. I touched on race here and there but I did that generally because I wanted to show my range and ability to be able to talk about different things such as politics, education, and healthcare. That allowed me to be seen that could be interviewed, someone who could bring their professional work into that type of space, and weave the more intentional work when it comes to race and disability into that. I was really concerned about being pigeon-holed unfairly. “

“Sometimes, I think Black writers and activists can sometimes be pigeon-holed in a way that does not allow us to show our range in tackling topics that relate to race, gender, and disability because we are always being sought out for just the ‘race work’. After a couple of years doing this work and people saying, ‘Oh, she can talk about different things’ while intertwining the race aspect, that is when I felt more comfortable to discuss race, gender, and disability fully, and not worried about being pigeonholed. It was very intentional. That is just who I am. I am really glad the way I did my work, allowed me to be where I am today. I don’t think if I had done it differently it may not have manifested the way I have hoped.”

In your article about activist Johnnie Lacy, you write about how often Lacy felt invisible or as if she didn’t belong in the Black community because she was disabled, and you also discussed the ableism, racism, and discrimination Lacy faced while attending San Francisco State University. In the article, you also write: “When I look in the mirror, I see a Black person, a Black woman. My Blackness matters just as that of non-disabled Black people and I will not be ignored or dismissed because I am disabled.”

With this, what was the process of learning to Belong to yourself as a Black disabled woman?

VT: “It has been a journey. When I look at myself, I see Black first because being from the South, that is just my identity: just being a Black person in a Black family, going to a predominantly Black school district. Nobody really focused on the disability part––it was always considered the medical aspect of myself. I didn’t understand growing up that disability was an identity like my Blackness or my womanhood. So, there was that detachment there for a really long time. It wasn’t that I didn’t know I was disabled––I am a wheelchair user and that is not something I can ignore––but it really wasn’t a firm part of who I was growing up and even into my young adulthood. It wasn’t until I started doing my activism and meeting other Black disabled women and femmes during the time I started Ramp Your Voice!, I really connected with them and was able to see how they move, they navigate, and how we saw that we had a lot in common––especially those of us who had physical and visible disabilities. Many of us had similar experiences––dealing with lonesomeness as the only disabled Black person in certain spaces and seeing and hearing Black folks sometimes saying things that are not really appropriate––particularly when it comes to other disabilities. We discussed how we processed those things and how we can do a better job of getting our community where it needs to be in understanding disability. So, when I came across Johnnie’s story, it really resonated with me. She was a woman from a different era but she still encountered the same problems as those of us in this time frame. It was really affirming to know the things I experienced were not uncommon and there have been people before me whose experiences I could lean on to really propel my own work and to understand that work will continue after I am gone and to do what I can to leave a legacy for those coming up after me.”

“It was really affirming to know the things I experienced were not uncommon and that there have been people before me whose experiences I could lean on to really propel my own work and to understand my work will continue after I am gone and to do what I can to leave a legacy for those coming up after me.”

“In understanding race and disability, there are some reasons why I understand as a Black community collectively, we have certain ideals about disability that have been shaped by how Black disabled bodies have been treated from slavery until now. I can understand the reluctance of packing on––quote un-quote––another identity when you are already Black and being Black is hard enough. However, it is critical to understand the history of what it is like to be a Black disabled person. It is also critical to understand the cultural dynamics that shaped how I view the ableism within the Black community.”

“However, it is also important to understand how the racism in the disability community functions as well because that is what Johnnie and other Black disabled folk before me and those of this time, see. When many people think about disability, most of the time, a white disabled man or woman comes to mind. When we see Black disabled folks especially, they are usually used as props for charity, the non-profit industrial complex, and usually are portrayed in pity with a helpless tone. You don’t really see Black disabled people living their lives and when you do, we are made to be this exceptional one-off unicorn type of individuals when we are not. The disability community has a very stark racism problem and has a very stark issue with creating space for Black disabled folks and other disabled folks of color to understand disability that is not whitewashed. It does not allow Black disabled folks and other disabled folks of color to feel included. When you think about these other organizations, many of them are white as far as staff and as far as leadership. Depending on how big the organization is, they may not even have disabled people at the helm.”

“When we see Black disabled folks especially, they are usually used as props for charity, the non-profit industrial complex, and usually are portrayed in pity with a helpless tone. You don’t really see Black disabled people living their lives and when you do we are made to be this exceptional one-off unicorn type of individuals when we are not.”

“So, there is a lot of work that needs to be done within this space––in the disabled community––that has to transpire that isn’t talked about. I think that for the current crop of activists, like myself, especially with social media, we are able to push these much needed conversations forward to make people feel uncomfortable and to hold people accountable. This is a very big thing I have noticed in disability spaces: the lack of accountability and the lack of responsibility of problematic leadership and problematic transgressions that take place.”

“We need more diversity when we are talking about employment barriers or education barriers. We need to dive deeper into certain topics because disabled people as collective maybe disadvantaged but when you break it down by race, those who are Black and Brown and other identities, are significantly impacted. We really need to create a more clear picture which in fact helps people of color communities, like the Black community, to understand these issues better. That is one of the things I really do like working in the Black community because statistically many of us are disadvantaged when it comes to key issues. However, it is also about getting folks to understand that you cannot effectively eradicate these political and social issues if you leave out disability.”

“The thing I always say to Black folks is you are not ever going to get to your idea of utopia, freedom, or liberation if you think you are going to leave Black disabled people behind because we are not going to be left behind. We have always been here and we are coming with you. It is either we all are free or none of us are free. That is it. There is no in-between. Again, accountability plays a role. Just because you are Black, it doesn’t mean you get a pass to be an ableist or offensive or purposefully exclusionary. You do not get a pass for that––just like white disabled folks or even non-Black people of color do not get a pass for being racist or anti-Black. So, I think that for me, the accountability and responsibility is stark because we have seen when no one has been accountable or when no one has been taken to task to really try to make these spaces safe, diverse, and inclusive, which is what they should have been all along. To not make room for different perspectives––whether you agree or not––does not help the collective cause that we have in the disability community, as well as the Black community.”

“The thing I always say to Black folks is you are not ever going to get to your idea of utopia, freedom, or liberation if you think you are going to leave Black disabled people behind because we are not going to be left behind. We have always been here and we are coming with you. It is either we all are free or none of us are free. That is it. There is no in-between.”

Activist, writer, advocate, and speaker, Vilissa Thompson. Photo courtesy of Vilissa Thompson.

In thinking and ruminating on radical Black feminist imaginations, possibilities, and futures, how would you like to see Black disabled women, femmes and non-binary leadership and solidarity manifest in Africa and in the African Diaspora?

VT: “One thing I love about social media is that I have been able to connect with Black folks through the Diaspora and really learn through their stories. This has really allowed me to understand that we are really dealing with similar situations but also learn about what is going on in different parts of the Diaspora to address ableism, inclusion, and Black disabled folks being free, feeling free, and not being harmed. There is some great work being done in Africa, in the Caribbean, Black folks in the United Kingdom––just Black folks everywhere––and it just makes me really proud but it also makes me frustrated that people don’t know what is going on. Black disability liberation isn’t just within America. I try to highlight their work because in some ways, what they are going through is similar to what the past Black disabled ancestors went through like Johnnie when the Independent Living Movement was just beginning. Many of our brothers, sisters, and siblings are trailblazers in the community where they are. It is really good and would be good for Black disabled Americans to be supportive of that work and to be knowledgeable about the work and to uplift them. For me, it is all about taking a look into what others are doing across the Diaspora so that I can have a better idea of who to support, how to support, and learn about how other Black disabled folks live. Also, breaking barriers and stereotypes about other groups within the Diaspora is important because the ‘Diasporic wars’ are a real thing. In learning about what other Black folks are doing, really chips away at the inaccurate depictions of what Blackness is in other parts of the Diaspora so we can all understand that because Black folks across the Diaspora want to be free, we have to be a unified force in understanding how freedom may look like for each of us.”

“We are in a time where Black disabled women, femmes, and gender non-conforming folks are making themselves heard and are pushing back against the anti-Black racism and ableism. We are challenging the status quo that both of these communities have held for so long. We are also not waiting for our turn––we are creating our own spaces and shaking up things on our own accord––so you either get right or get left.”

“When it comes to Black disabled women, femmes, and gender non-conforming folks, I really want us to be seen more… forcing the communities––the Black community and disabled community––to really respect who we are, respect the experiences we bring to the table, and respect the fact we are here. We are not locked in the back room anymore or invisible. I want there to be understanding of our unique Black experience within the identities we have and checking the –isms or phobias that we may have against other groups and understanding how those things can impact how we feel safe or included. You can’t really say you are for Black people when you are only for a certain type of Black or for a Black person who looks a certain way. We are in a time where Black disabled women, femmes, and gender non-conforming folks are making themselves heard and are pushing back against the anti-Black racism and ableism. We are challenging the status quo that both of these communities have held for so long. We are also not waiting for our turn––we are creating our own spaces and shaking up things on our own accord––so you either get right or get left. This is the attitude many of us have because we have waited far too long and have been forced to wait our turn. And waiting for our turn, we just kept waiting. So, why would we wait our turn at this time when we have so much at our disposable to be heard and to really carve out those spaces and the niche we see is needed? Either you get with it or you look outdated. That is just the way it is.”

“This generation is taking the knowledge and the history of the past and really reshaping it in the times we are living in so that all Black folks, particularly those who are disabled and with other identities, are in the front and no longer in the back.”

What does a Black Woman Radical mean to you?

VT: “It means remaining steadfast into what she knows is right in her mind and in her heart. It means not to be shaken by opposition––whether it is her own or those on the other side. I think it is so easy to become self-conscious when you are shaking and rocking the boat and realizing that people will not like you because of it. That is something that I had to pay attention to myself because people do not like when you tell them you are a racist or if they are ableist. It is staying true to your heart and your mind. I do not make moves that I do not 100 percent believe in. If I am not passionate about it, I do not need to do it. I know my purpose for the work that I do, I know why I am here, I know what drives me, and I am going to stay true to that. I am going to use my head when I want to map out a plan and my heart to keep the fire burning when it wants to go dim. It means staying true to what brought you into this work and staying true to it until the end. It is okay to be different––as long as what you are doing isn’t harmful to the community or to the collective movement, it is okay to be different. And I move differently–-I move with intention and I also move in silence. I do not let people know what I am doing unless you are a part of what I am doing. I have a very intentional network of folks who will bring me in––in case I am wylin––and who I can call out in case they are wylin. I have that type of support system. You can really tell when people have certain folks in their corner and mean it versus those who don’t.”

Who are Black Women Radicals that inspire you?

VT: “The main Black woman who inspired me was my grandmother. She is the reason why I have a very strong sense of responsibility and ethics. She was a Great Depression baby and she grew up in my town, got married young, and around the 1960s, she worked until I started kindergarten. From that point on, I really just saw her strength and how she moved. She was a Leo-–if that tells you nothing else! [Laughs] She was truly the matriarch of our family and was very steadfast in what she believed was right and in doing the right thing. She really knew how to love people but she also knew how to hold us accountable. She had a heart of gold but she would not play games––at all––and you knew that. I felt what she modeled in me as a child is the type of woman I am today. I see myself kind of mimicking her mannerisms and her thoughts at this age. Come December, she will have been gone for four years and I have been really reflecting a lot on what she and her generation went through––Black women in the South growing up during Jim Crow, who saw so much, and yet they still had faith and hope even through heartache, pain, and life. And they did not let what they went through steal their joy. My grandmother went through a lot in her life but yet she still had a lot of love to give. She didn’t allow the pain to make her bitter. Those are some of the lessons I really reflect on about her.”

“For me, she was very radical in her own way––it may not look like what we consider today as radical but to her, the things she was doing and speaking on were very radical things. Women of her generation had to learn and find ways to be radical that may not fit into what we consider today as radical but for them it was a big challenge. ”

“I do not think my grandmother would have considered herself a feminist but some of the things she taught me about being true to your values and challenging leadership, leads into a lot of that. The things she would say about women having their own and not following behind no man are the lessons you wouldn’t think someone from that generation would have or believe in but she did. It really impacted my outlook on how I engage with people, how I look at relationships, and how I look at myself. For me, she was very radical in her own way––it may not look like what we consider today as radical but to her, the things she was doing and speaking on were very radical things. Women of her generation had to learn and find ways to be radical that may not fit into what we consider today as radical but for them it was a big challenge. She really molded me into who I am today: to be fearless, to do what is right, and not what is convenient. I do not have to follow the crowd and I can be different, and that is just fine.”