Wouldn’t it be nice….

Wouldn’t it be nice….

I have some privilege, I’m white. I also lack privilege, I’m a trans woman and neurodivergent.

Whether I am privileged or not privileged, I suppose is an open question. Some will say I had male privilege in the past, and some will disagree. It’s an open question but you know what. I don’t have the capacity to really consider it at the moment.

It would be nice to be able to spend the energy thinking about it.

I don’t have that privilege though.

My days are spent dealing with more pressing concerns.

Like, for example:

Can I make rent this week.

Can I buy food this week.

Will I be safe walking down the street.

These are all pressing and immediate concerns in my life. In one sense I am lucky to be living in the country I do, where there is a welfare safety net of sorts. And don’t get me wrong I do appreciate it. I really do.

But the reality is, that safety net is far from adequate.

The amount I receive is an amount where rent is 50%, and it really can be a case of do I pay rent, do I buy my meds, or do I buy my food this week.

This is not really meant to be a sob story but a story of what it can be like. And it shouldn’t be like this.

But it is.

I have two degrees. I’m intelligent, numerate, literate. Yet work eludes me. And while work eludes me then so does so much more.

Last week I attended a group for trans women, at suburban hotel. It was great, worthwhile, and all, but the venue made it prohibitive and what I paid to eat there meant funds became even more tight than usual. The question of eating, making rent and so forth became even more critical.

Again, I don’t want to sound like a sob story. I don’t mean to and if I do I am sorry. But, at the same time this is my reality.

The workforce participation rate according to our national statistics body for autistic people is 41%. That’s not full time work that is just any work. I’ve had jobs, I’Ve started careers, until now they’ve come to naught.

Naught because of a lack of understanding and acceptance of my neurological reality. We make accomodations for people in wheelchairs to get into buildings and so forth, but for some reason we as a society refuse to make accomodations for the way neurodivergent people communicate and work in social constructs.

This is no sob story as I said, but, wouldn’t it be nice to not have to worry about making rent, where the next meal is coming from, being able to clothe yourself and able to purchase needed meds.

Yes wouldn’t it be nice!