At time of writing, the university network is down and has been since Saturday evening. It’s a pain in the butt, as my main means of communication with me family is email, and I want to know if I’m in trouble. After I write this, I’ll go find the techies.

Anyway, something interesting has occurred. I was talking to Jim, a mature student, yesterday, about his plan to put me in a show. It’s about masks, and my part is about how society forces the mask of thee humble little retard onto me; about how people just see the disability, not the person.

I like this idea, for it is in line with my thinking. Most people, I fear, do not see us cripples for who we truly are, but just male assumptions based on who we are. I got talking to Jim about his show, and I felt I needed to tell him about disability culture; I also told him a bit about school, and about Wheetabix and foxy. I brought him back here to show him some of my writing on the subject, and, and as well as my more recent writing about 1voice etc, I kind of ended up showing him some of my older, more bitter stuff.

It is that I am worried about. He said he would like to make an exhibition off my work. This is very flattering, and does wonders for my ego, but I see two problems with it:

1.it is wholly too bleak and cynical. Yes, there are very dark aspects to disability – what can be more tragic than having two of your best mates succumb to MD, or knowing that there were and are kids like you still in long stay hospitals? – but there is also some very bright stuff too. With the right support, threes nothing I cannot do. I love my life, and think my cp makes it even cooler. Who else gets to zoom about campus in a wheelchair?

2.why me? I am not unique. There are three or four disabled people on campus, who must have similar recollections to mine. I do not stand for all disabled people, and this makes me very apprehensive about the whole idea; there are far better stories than mine to tell.

Yet part of me wants it to happen. There are some tales that need to be told. Very few people know what goes on behind the gates of a special school, and this could, perhaps, help reverse that. Yet I do not want to make disability into some wallowing festival of self pity. after all, I have no more to complain about than any other person, AB or crip. I am in two minds about the whole project.