#AltTextPalestine—from Ableist Shame to Indigenous Solidarity (I Know Why the Caged Nerd Reads)

#AltTextPalestine—from Ableist Shame to Indigenous Solidarity (I Know Why the Caged Nerd Reads)   

 

Faatima Vasser

 

Hey bunch of strangers on the internet, I wet the bed until I was in the 4th grade. I read on a college level and wet the bed. Bed wetting and gastrointestinal issues are common amongst Autistic people. This isn’t well known outside the ASD community. I only learned that I was atypical when I started talking to the other kids in my grade on the phone about sleepovers, and got told bed wetting is “weird” for a 10-year old. 

I was ashamed and embarrassed and didn’t know what to do, so I turned to the Library for help. I asked one of my first friends, a librarian, for help and if you know Mychal the librarian, then you know librarians are friends. My library friend helped me check out a book on bedwetting.

My mother often brought me and my sister to the library with her, so she could keep an eye on us. She was very protective and so I spent more time around books and librarians than I did around my peers. 

I remember taking the book on bedwetting everywhere with me and reading it over and over—doing the various suggestions, trialing and erroring, and  discovering the key to success. This way, I taught myself how to stop wetting the bed; functionally, I potty trained myself.

I learned from that experience that I could rely on asking for help and conducting research to counteract internalized shame. Now, anytime I find myself ashamed of something due to a gap in knowledge, I do this same practice. I ask for help and resources, do extensive research, and then apply what I’ve learned. 

To this day, I’m confused as to why it seems so many adults don’t have the same capacity as I did as an Autistic child–the self-awareness that shame denotes a lack of knowledge. For instance, I’m ashamed that I voted for President Biden. I’m ashamed that I never knew about the ongoing genocides happening in Palestine, DR Congo, Sudan, Syria, Yemen, and many other colonized nations around the world. I am ashamed that I didn’t speak up before now. 

I wet the proverbial bed of my integrity and instead of lying in it, covered with urine-soaked shame and accepting that this is my life now, I did what I’ve always done—I took to education and self-compassion to work through that shame.

I asked for help to conquer the shame and I was vulnerably honest about where it came from: a lack of knowledge. My candor was met with support, compassion, and a wealth of resources from a lot of caring people. Palestinian activists online held space for me and showed me how I could help, even though I couldn’t march. They welcomed my desire to learn more and helped me to fill in the gaps of knowledge and also unlearn the Zionist propaganda I’d “learned” in school.

I first “learned” about Palestine from my Catholic high school when I was 15. Speakers from Palestine and Israel, respectively, came to our school to teach us the value of a 2-state solution and explained that there were “faults on both sides.” The Israeli said the Palestinians should share their land with them, since they’re already there. 

I, the Black Native child of a Black Panther, (or at least the recipient of Black Panther after school programs), was immediately suspicious of the discourse and, raising my hand, I asked why the Palestinians should have to share their land. I was cautioned against antisemitic remarks and my question was ignored.

5 years later, I had my first “adult relationship” with a white Jewish man who imposed a colonialist, and in hindsight Zionist  control over my life. We once had a “discussion” about Israel, which I called ‘Occupied Palestine’ and he cautioned me against antisemitism. He gaslit me into believing I didn’t and couldn’t know enough to have an opinion on it.

The activism work I’ve done since 2012 was done without the support of my partners and at the expense of my psyche. For years I faced online harassment and an inability to balance everything and wound up burning out over and over, watching my peers pass into early graves from stress.

I’ve experienced years of abuse from partners, employers, and the US government who have mishandled my SSDI/SSI payments so much I can hardly afford to survive. Most of what I live off of comes from mutual aid, after becoming further disabled from catching COVID-19 while living in a hostile situation last summer.

The second half of ‘23 was the first time in my life where I actually felt safe. Because, finally, I was safe and, happily, I still am. I have a really great support network and live with my life partner and best friend. 

I was learning how to live with a new disability (ME/CFS) and adjusting to being bed bound when October 7th happened. I then dedicated over 1K hours to posting about Palestine. Protesting from bed. 

My partner discovered the level of work I was doing and instead of discouraging me or accusing me of antisemitism, like my former partners had, he took on the role of a caretaker. I owe a lot of what I’ve been able to do for the movement to him.

He made sure I had food, that I was taking my medicine, that all my physical and emotional needs were being met. By caring for my mind and my body, he showed me what true solidarity means, reminding me to take care of myself with the words, “Faati, you’re a person, not a machine.” He taught me it’s important to remember the humanity of the person behind the activist. 

I’ve applied this humanistic approach to the way I’ve followed and written about Palestine on Twitter.  For instance, I saw a need for accessible tweets via alt-text, so I started providing it.  Sarah Blahovec quote tweeted  my posts about the genocide in Gaza, adding the hashtag #AltTextPalestine, so I started adding the hashtag too. In following her, I learned that there were many disabled activists like me working to support Palestine. Deaf Hottie communicated a need for captioned videos on Palestine for the Deaf/HH, and so I began making captioned videos.

I and many other Black Users on Twitter such as Wagatwe Wanjuki (@PrematureTantie),(@babybunloaf), (@mimiwilliams1), spoke of the need for trigger warnings on posts about the genocide in Gaza because we know firsthand, due to #BlackLivesMatters, the way our people’s traumatization on the timeline can be detrimental to our mental health. We wanted to extend that same care for the Palestinian people that we’re in solidarity with. 

Determining who the true indigenous people of Palestine were was easy for me. If you’re trying to see who is indigenous to the lands, look to who is protecting the trees and who is killing them. Look to the people celebrating the culture, beauty, and history of the lands—people like Bisan, a Gazan journalist, activist, and filmmaker. I started downloading and captioning Bisan’s content because I felt connected to her love for her people and her country. I admire her bravery in stepping into the role of being a Gazan Journalist in a time where nearly 75% of all journalists killed in 2023 were Gazans.

I regularly share her videos with the date, a title, captions, and a bulleted list of important info from the videos. I credit her by tagging her Twitter account and always add #AltTextPalestine so her videos can easily be found by those who need them captioned. 

If you search under the #AltTextPalestine tag you’ll find a wealth of information to explore and to share. Everyone is capable of doing something to help free Palestine. Everyone’s voice counts.

Speak up, that’s all the Palestinian people have asked us to do. Don’t think of this as a trending topic. Don’t be ashamed to say #CeaseFireNow. They’re counting on us.

As a Disabled Black Native who was raised Muslim in America, I have a LOT connecting me to this struggle. My ancestors, the Mattamuskeet, have been fighting back against British and American colonization since the 1500s. I honor my ancestors with this work. I honor myself by continuing their tradition of fighting back against western colonialism and for the rights of Indigenous peoples everywhere. 

Finally I want to say, I believe in armed resistance. I believe in people fighting back against their extermination with everything they have. I believe that our ancestors speak through us and to us everyday and helps us to stay centered and focused on the right course. I will never condemn a people for accomplishing incredible feats of strength and ingenuity to stay alive and to survive.

Israel stole the sky, the rain, the sun, and the sea from them. 

Burned their olive trees, and demonized their languages. 

Took their children away forever for throwing rocks.

I’m not sorry. I won’t ever see 

“both sides” when one side has the power to lay claim to the sun, to water.

I love you, Palestine. 

From me and all of my ancestors,

Love Faati

 

 

FaatiTheStreet is a Nonbinary Black Native writer and Disability Activist. They are currently an unenrolled member of the Mattamuskeet tribe of South Carolina. They’re from the southeast. They’ve been doing online activism work via education, writing, and mutual aid for 12 years. They are best known for their work with #AltTextPalestine, #TheSilencingOfTheShrew, and creating accessible versions of important activism content on Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter. 

 

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