We walk each other back from fault lines
With voice notes of care that bridge the void
Where, otherwise, we are left adrift in emptiness
Left to deal with the grief of our own living
Our communty-care action group
Suicide-watch prevention systems keep us out of wards
We do our best on little to no resources
Here we whisper sweet words of recognition
Creating vessels for our grief
It once fermented in our bodies
Congealed with blood, our pain
We hold each other
Huddled together, like birds in a nest
Cast out to the open wind
Nothing protecting us from the great sea
An abyss, an absence
Our community spaces eroded
The intentional wearing-down of the network
That keeps us together
The tapestry of care
An unspoken mutual aid group
The library, the community centre
Gone
We dream together of reverie
Of belly-full laughter
Where care looks like
Plantain and sweet potato
The tingle of scotch bonnet on your lips
Where grief is let out through dance
And rage is given room to breathe
We lament all that has been taken from us
And we dream
And we dream
And we dream
An invitation from the artist Rudy Loewe
This work is only possible because I have been held together by a community of disabled co-conspirators for many years, who have buoyed my spirit with loving whispers through tender voice notes, attending appointments and, when all the energy has left my body, raging on my behalf.
It is inspired by Mia Mingus’s ‘access intimacy’: the intimacy of automatically understanding access needs out of our shared similar lived experience of the many different ways ableism manifests in our lives.
‘Intimacies of Care’ means care formed from strong connections with those who have been through the same thing, fully supporting and understanding each other.
My community is QTIBPOC disabled people: queer, trans, intersex, Black and people of colour. A community of deep connections and support.
In this space, we hold each other’s grief and dream new possibilities of care for the future. The care that we are yet to receive from the state, and that we may never receive from such a place.