A queer take on disability: Exploring identity, kinship, dissent
Anusha Misra identifies as queer and disabled. These terms have helped them find community, they say. Misra is now trying to expand that community through a platform called Revival Disability.
Indian queerness is a largely non-disabled space, says Anusha Misra, 23. So is the dating world, and of course much of the world in general. Safety measures, communication structures, access to expression, access to recreation have all been designed for the non-disabled world.
It’s one of the reasons Misra, who identifies as queer, has embraced the term disabled. After struggling through confusing teen years, “it gave me a new identity and community,” they say. In order to share that sense of community, Misra started an initiative called Revival Disability in April 2020. It’s a place for disabled and disabled-queer folks to reclaim stories of disability in India.
On Instagram (@revivaldisabilitymag) and on the website (revivaldisabilityproject.com), their lived experience is expressed through art and poetry, first-person accounts and Instagram Lives. These are stories of disabled joy and dissent, disabled anger, navigating freedom as a disabled person, calling out ableist comments; discussions on interdependence, dating, sex, sexuality, identity, and disability rights.
“We also talk about relationships, friendships, dating, fear — the last of which is a big component, because all our lives we are told to be fearful of navigating the world independently.”
Since April 2021, therapists and counsellors have been available for free individual and group therapy sessions. Talks are organised in collaboration with bodies such as the non-profit Teach for India, the online community for queer Indians Gaysi, and Why Loiter, the movement to reclaim public spaces for women.
Revival also conducts weekly sharing circles, offers access to a WhatsApp support group, and has a buddy system that pairs people up so they can support one another. “We depend on others and there’s no shame in that,” Misra says. “We survive through interdependence and communities of care.”
There are a few things Revival is not. “It doesn’t have a non-disabled gaze at all,” Misra says. “From the language we talk at Revival, to the way we move, we’re dabbling in the world in a very disabled way.”
It’s always identity first. “Ordinarily in movies, in the media, even on our mobile phones and things, the very act of ‘disabling’ means stopping something. Or weakening it. We are trying to reclaim the term and see the power in disability,” Misra says.
The pandemic has further invisibilised disabled folk, Misra says. Revival acts as a space to reclaim the stories being pushed further from the mainstream.
In the future, Revival plans to also create an allyship circle that bridges the gap between disabled and non-disabled communities. “We have had many non-disabled allies who’ve been very supportive,” Misra says.
For Misra, who is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in Women’s Studies at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences in Mumbai, shifting the perspective from an academic lens to a more community-driven, lived-experiences lens has helped, they add. “You learn the best when you’re among folks with lived experiences. It’s about learning and unlearning,” says Misra. “Disability is just another way of life.”
For Samidha Mathur, 22, a Gurugram-based lawyer, Revival has meant acceptance of her chronic illness (a genetic disorder that causes physical impairment). “It has meant seeing my illness as a part of me that I try to understand, rather than run away from,” she says. “Revival has taught me to stop, respect my body and its needs and listen to it more, without guilt.” She came across Revival while searching for young people on the internet living similar lives. “What sets Revival apart is our focus on lived experience, the recognition that illness does not impact everyone in the same way and therefore having space for different types of experiences, different stories and different struggles,” Mathur says.
Yashna Vishwanathan, a therapist and mental health counsellor associated with Revival for six months, says one of the important aspects of what the community offers is a focus on fellow disabled voices and lived experience over that of “professionals”. “I have seen Revival featuring stories of people whose identity locations are at the intersections of caste, religion, gender, sexuality and disability and who have a lot to teach able-bodied folks about abolishing ableism,” Vishwanathan says. “It is therefore required of the community of therapists, doctors, teachers, to step back, listen to disabled voices, (un) learn and advocate for disability rights justice.”
Indian queerness is a largely non-disabled space, says Anusha Misra, 23. So is the dating world, and of course much of the world in general. Safety measures, communication structures, access to expression, access to recreation have all been designed for the non-disabled world.
It’s one of the reasons Misra, who identifies as queer, has embraced the term disabled. After struggling through confusing teen years, “it gave me a new identity and community,” they say. In order to share that sense of community, Misra started an initiative called Revival Disability in April 2020. It’s a place for disabled and disabled-queer folks to reclaim stories of disability in India.
On Instagram (@revivaldisabilitymag) and on the website (revivaldisabilityproject.com), their lived experience is expressed through art and poetry, first-person accounts and Instagram Lives. These are stories of disabled joy and dissent, disabled anger, navigating freedom as a disabled person, calling out ableist comments; discussions on interdependence, dating, sex, sexuality, identity, and disability rights.
“We also talk about relationships, friendships, dating, fear — the last of which is a big component, because all our lives we are told to be fearful of navigating the world independently.”
Since April 2021, therapists and counsellors have been available for free individual and group therapy sessions. Talks are organised in collaboration with bodies such as the non-profit Teach for India, the online community for queer Indians Gaysi, and Why Loiter, the movement to reclaim public spaces for women.
Revival also conducts weekly sharing circles, offers access to a WhatsApp support group, and has a buddy system that pairs people up so they can support one another. “We depend on others and there’s no shame in that,” Misra says. “We survive through interdependence and communities of care.”
There are a few things Revival is not. “It doesn’t have a non-disabled gaze at all,” Misra says. “From the language we talk at Revival, to the way we move, we’re dabbling in the world in a very disabled way.”
It’s always identity first. “Ordinarily in movies, in the media, even on our mobile phones and things, the very act of ‘disabling’ means stopping something. Or weakening it. We are trying to reclaim the term and see the power in disability,” Misra says.
The pandemic has further invisibilised disabled folk, Misra says. Revival acts as a space to reclaim the stories being pushed further from the mainstream.
In the future, Revival plans to also create an allyship circle that bridges the gap between disabled and non-disabled communities. “We have had many non-disabled allies who’ve been very supportive,” Misra says.
For Misra, who is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in Women’s Studies at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences in Mumbai, shifting the perspective from an academic lens to a more community-driven, lived-experiences lens has helped, they add. “You learn the best when you’re among folks with lived experiences. It’s about learning and unlearning,” says Misra. “Disability is just another way of life.”
For Samidha Mathur, 22, a Gurugram-based lawyer, Revival has meant acceptance of her chronic illness (a genetic disorder that causes physical impairment). “It has meant seeing my illness as a part of me that I try to understand, rather than run away from,” she says. “Revival has taught me to stop, respect my body and its needs and listen to it more, without guilt.” She came across Revival while searching for young people on the internet living similar lives. “What sets Revival apart is our focus on lived experience, the recognition that illness does not impact everyone in the same way and therefore having space for different types of experiences, different stories and different struggles,” Mathur says.
Yashna Vishwanathan, a therapist and mental health counsellor associated with Revival for six months, says one of the important aspects of what the community offers is a focus on fellow disabled voices and lived experience over that of “professionals”. “I have seen Revival featuring stories of people whose identity locations are at the intersections of caste, religion, gender, sexuality and disability and who have a lot to teach able-bodied folks about abolishing ableism,” Vishwanathan says. “It is therefore required of the community of therapists, doctors, teachers, to step back, listen to disabled voices, (un) learn and advocate for disability rights justice.”
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