Loving Your Black Disabled Womanhood as Radical Praxis: Keri Gray on Self-Acceptance, Visibility and The Politics of Being Unapologetic
By Jaimee A. Swift
For Keri Gray (she/her/hers), loving her Black disabled womanhood is not just a radical declaration to the world––it is radical reclamation of self.
Trigger Word(s): Ableism.
Keri Gray’s interview is a part of ‘Voices in Movement’ December 2019 theme, ‘On Belonging.’ To read the descriptor of ‘On Belonging’, please click here.
There are many words to describe Keri Gray: authentic, funny, intelligent, unapologetic. I stumbled across her Twitter profile one day, and I read in her bio the words, “Loving my Black Disabled Womanhood.” In a world that seeks to stifle, push aside, or erase Black disabled people, especially Black disabled women and non-binary folks, Gray, 29, in a very intentional and grand way, is making it known through social media, her professional workspace, lived experiences, politics, and more that “loving [her] Black Disabled Womanhood” is not just simply a statement––it is a radical declaration, reclamation, and a state of being. It is praxis. While the journey to get to the point of loving herself unapologetically has not been easy, it is the process of unlearning, re-learning, and learning to Belong to herself, for herself that has pushed her to live fully and deeply in her truths––in spite of what others or even herself has to think or say about it.
Born in Longwood, Texas but currently residing in Washington, D.C., Gray is the Senior Director of Stakeholder Engagement and Strategic Communications at the American Association of People with Disabilities (AAPD), where she socially and politically mobilizes, empowers, and equips people with disabilities from marginalized communities from an intersectional framework. Prior to her position at AAPD, she was the Director of NextGen Initiatives at Disability:IN, a non-profit resource for business disability inclusion worldwide. When Gray was eight years-old, she was diagnosed with osteosarcoma bone cancer in 1998 and her leg was amputated in 1999. Having to battle with insensitive and ableist questions, comments, and labels about her cancer diagnosis and amputation, she once internalized those words from others, which made her insecure about herself, her present circumstances, and even her future as a Black disabled woman. While at times, these similar insecurities may manifest, it is in loving and falling in love with, believing in, and advocating for herself and for others where Gray has learned to articulate the radical politics of being unapologetically who she is as thought and behavior.
I spoke with Gray about what loving her Black disabled womanhood means to her; Belonging as a means to self and political liberation; what brings her joy these days; and what a Black Woman Radical means to her.
In your Twitter bio, one of your statements is “loving my Black Disabled Womanhood.” With this, what does “loving your Black Disabled Womanhood” mean to you?
Keri Gray (KG): “I remember putting that in my Twitter bio. It is interesting because sometimes people note that every so often and say, ‘Yo, that is such a bold statement.’ In some ways, I do agree that statement can be very bold, depending on the context of where you live, where you work, and who you are surrounded by. I put it there for someone to envision and think, ‘Oh cool, that is who she is’ but I do not think we are quite there yet, especially some people. The statement, ‘loving my Black Disabled Womanhood’ can be a lot for others and not in a bad way but it is definitely something that is shining in the room, so to speak. When I put that in my bio, it was an acknowledgment of my marginalized identities: mee being Black, a woman, and being disabled, I think those have been very integral parts of my identities that have helped shape me into who I am today. There are multitudes of things that have helped shape who I am today as well: I could talk about me being from the South or my family or where they’ve been and their history. There are so many significant things that make us who we are but a lot of my journey is tied back to my love and my complication behind those three particular marginalized identities.” It was an acknowledgment of a significant piece of my journey so that when people see what I stand for, what type of work I do, and who I am trying to ensure is on the map, they are going to know pretty quickly off the top that these are the groups of people and the intersections that I have a deep appreciation and a personal and professional connection to.”
“The second piece to that statement is that I do find it to be a radical declaration of the love and the fight I have for myself. For me, I know that when I step into a lot of rooms, my Blackness is going to make people feel uncomfortable. I am going to step into a lot of rooms and I am going to speak directly and make definite statements and as a woman, they are probably going to want me to fall back. Definitely, as a disabled person, the moment they see this prosthetic limb, the moment that they hear who I am advocating for, the expectations begin to fall and shift. For me, it is acknowledging that narrative but also making a radical declaration of don’t get it twisted. [Laughs] The community that I am a part of and the person I am today bring value and there is no way and no reason that you are not going to have me or my communities in these spaces.”
You have done so much work in ensuring the intersections of disability, race, gender, class, and more are recognized. And in an ableist, racist, sexist, and patriarchal world, for so long, Black people with disabilities have been made to feel as if they do not belong. Why is it imperative that Black disabled people, particularly, Black disabled women, and their leadership, are seen, heard, and recognized?
KG: “I really like the description you sent to me about ‘Belonging’ because it described and defined belonging on internal and external planes. I think that very much ties into this question on the importance of Black disabled women and their leadership being seen, heard, and recognized. Internally, if you dissect that question a little bit, it really hits to the heart of this notion: if we do not recognize the significance of our lives, then we will end it. Literally. The other notion comes to mind is: if we do not recognize the significance of our lives, our voices, and our value, then we will sell ourselves short and very constantly. Some of my background is that I run workshops for young professionals who have different underrepresented identities. I will often talk to students that I work with and I will ask them their career aspirations. Oftentimes, I will have a conversation with a student that suggests a career based on what society dictates they can achieve due to their disability––they do not suggest a career based on what they truly want to do. I find that my students will start to shy away from what they truly want to do because of who they are––as someone who is disabled and who is a person of color. They begin to think of all the reasons why they should not be in the room and why they should not be pursuing the goals they truly and actually want to accomplish in life. If we do not recognize who we are on an internal level, we will significantly sell ourselves short over and over again until we are stuck.”
“At an early age in our lives, we really start to go through this process of doubting who we are, what we can accomplish, and what we are worthy of. I think the external part of this question calls into the importance of recognition because recognition empowers our community. There have been so many times that I have questioned what I can accomplish. I have found the more representation I see and the more I see openly disabled folks who are like, ‘Yeah, I am disabled but guess what? I am killing the game’, matters. The more we see Black disabled leaders, especially Black disabled women leaders––which we don’t see that often––the more we can connect the dots so that others can see that they too, can be leaders as well. In the Black community, we are constantly still having “firsts” at different things. However, we do have spaces where there are a number of Black disabled women who are out there but we need to increase the platform they have because that recognition is only going to help our community know what is possible. I want to see Black disabled women being uplifted economically, politically, socially, and in all different types of ways. The more we increase recognition, the more empowerment we will see within our communities.”
Why do you think there is so many attempts to erase Black disabled women’s leadership?
KG: “I think a big piece to this is that oftentimes we will erase different parts of history. This erasure happens for a number of reasons but particularly for the disability side, I think sometimes people think of the erasure of disability as a sense of kindness. Yeah, we want to talk about Harriet Tubman as a woman who led a revolution in freeing slaves but we do not want to talk about her disability because that might be insensitive and that might show a weakness to her that we don’t want to associate her with. If we are talking about bringing Black disabled women in Africa and in the African Diaspora more to the center, we just need to be honest about our realities. If there is erasure of who we are, then it gives the notion to the people coming after us, that there is something wrong in acknowledging that my mental and physical health looks this kind of way and that it is different than your average able-bodied individual. Or I am leading some very powerful work in the midst of having to be on some medication but let me not bring that to the forefront at all because there is that idea that you need to silence that part of yourself. So, what does that look like to tell the truths about our disabilities in a fuller sense so that we know what the actual story looks like and we can imagine a future where you do not need to silence different pieces of yourself? It is important that we tell the truth and not silence each other. I think the other piece of that is that we do need to get back just telling more stories. The more we can share these narratives, I think the better it will be.”
So much of your work has been in creating, catalyzing, and nurturing safe spaces where others have a sense of Belonging. At what point in your life did you learn to belong to yourself?
KG: “I think I am still learning that. [Laughs] I think many of us are still on that journey. I think there are little things that make people realize they are still on a journey to belonging to themselves. For example, I didn’t even know that when I am in a relationship with someone, I constantly hold back in this way. I thought I was good. So, I think that I am still on this journey of 100 percent loving myself––well, if we still liked Kanye, I would say I am still on this journey of loving myself like Kanye loves Kanye because don’t nobody love Kanye like Kanye loves Kanye! [Laughs]. If we still rocked with him, it would be that type of concept. For me, belonging to myself is something I center and I appreciate it because I know how it feels not do that. I had a few significant moments where I had to decide my value and no one could determine that except for me. It is interesting because there were so many random incidences of this. I remember being in high school and I was at a camp, and I had to go through an obstacle course. For some reason, I was having this spiritual and emotional reaction to the obstacle course because I was watching all of these more abled-bodied individuals struggle through it. The whole time in my mind I was thinking, ‘Well, if they are struggling, me and my disabled, prosthetic self was not going to make it through this thing.’ I had so much negative talk in my mind about what was not possible for me. And then it was my turn. I had to make the decision, in that moment, to walk away because ain’t nobody going to stop me if I walk away and if say I don’t want to do this. Or am I going to make a decision to do it because for some reason, this thing is speaking to you. It wasn’t just about the obstacle course––it was literally all the decisions I was going to make about what is possible in my life and it is only me that is going to determine whether I make it forward or not.”
“It was also the first time I fell in love and having the experience to decide how vulnerable I am going to be with a person. How real and how much am I going to show myself to him? I mean, nobody has seen the scars along my body like my immediate family who was there with me when I was literally fighting cancer. Nobody––and I was intentional about that. But this is the person you love. Are you going to show them? Belonging even relates to your professional decisions, being in the workplace and speaking up and saying, ‘You know what? I talk with slang. I use y’all. I say words like dope.’ Am I going to confidently speak slang in the workplace and I am one of the only people in the room that looks like me? And am I going to be the person that says, ‘I need an accommodation in order to be successful’ or am I going to be silent on that?’ I think there have been these moments, almost like opportunities that presented themselves., where I just had to make a decision like, ‘Yo, are you rockin’ wit yo’self the long way or nah?’ [Laughs]. And, here I am.”
What gives you joy these days?
KG: “I love your questions, for real. I literally just started having this conversation with my therapist recently about burnout because burnout is real. It is a thing I think many of us in some way or another experience. So, I was talking to my therapist, and she was telling me I should be very intentional about the things that re-energize me and bring me a sense of joy while I go through all the things I am trying to juggle every week. When you are ambitious, it can be a lot and I have to step back and say, ‘What brings me joy?’ A couple of things I have been re-discovering about myself are the foundations of a really good conversation. There is nothing like having these beautiful and powerful conversations where we can just sit and ask, ‘Tell me about your life, what you have been through, and where you want to go?’ I love to hear someone’s journey. I was just watching the Netflix series, “Rhythm and Flow”, the hip-hop show. Personally, I am really a big hip-hop fan and that within itself is not just about the music––it is about a journey, it is about a lifestyle, and it is also about what people have been through. I found the series so energizing because you watch people who have gone through so much and how they make it where they are now. Those stories give me so much energy because I know what it feels like to fight for something, you know that you have something amazing inside you, and you are just trying to figure out, ‘How can I get there?’”
“Honestly, those types of conversations [bring me joy] and being around people who are hungry for change, Like I said, I am a big hip-hop fan. I love a good concert. I love to be around music. I love art in general––so poetry and seeing paintings. Seeing all of those creative vibes and seeing people be able to articulate their narratives in various mediums––all of those things just bring me a lot of joy. Oh! Black people in general bring me a lot of joy. When I see a Black woman walking down the street, clapping her hands, talking on the phone, I am like, “Yes, Black woman––you betta walk that street and clap those hands and whip yo’ hair and just be your beautiful Black self!” [Laughs]
What does a ‘Black Woman Radical’ mean to you?
KG: “To me, I think our existence, in a lot of ways, is still a very radical thing. And so, I want to see our existence be amplified. When I see Black women stating, ‘This is who I unapologetically am’ and ‘this is how I express myself’, to me is very radical. When I see Black women wearing all different colors, different fashions and streetwear––to our super glam looks and all of those things that are apart of our culture––that within itself is a radical statement of our existence and our ability to be able to express our culture in a multitude of ways. I think even in the midst of our existence, what we do with it really uplifts that radical notion. I think of Black radical women I respect and why I consider them to be radical because they are making statements and creating things while fighting for the betterment of their communities and themselves. I think it is acknowledging the systematic oppression we live––whether that is in the U.S. or around the globe––being radical is to be able to acknowledge it. It is not allowing for people to cut it down and make it seem as if it is lesser than what it is because, you know, people like to get into your mind and make you seem like you are trippin’. The disparities that impact Black women are not negotiable. These are facts that you can find, research, and know what these experiences look like. So, when I think about Black radical women who just speak the truth about our existence and at the same time find opportunities for us to do better in life and uplift our families and our communities, they get all the respect in my opinion.”
You can follow Keri Gray on Twitter at @keri_gray.
For more information about the American Association of People with Disabilities (AAPD), please click here.