#disabilityjustice — Public Fediverse posts

I stand in my kitchen wanting to use an appliance I have already paid for. Its smooth touchscreen gives me no tactile information. I use a camera app to find the controls, place markers where I think buttons may appear, and hope the layout has not changed. One accidental tap can take me somewhere I cannot identify or exit without sighted help. A task that should take moments becomes a process requiring concentration, technology, and luck.

Many disabled people know this experience. We become skilled at adapting. We label buttons, memorise layouts, ask friends or family to help with setup, search for accessible workarounds, and learn to make do with only part of what a product offers. Those strategies can be useful, and they can protect our independence in the moment.

Yet the effort is rarely recognised as work. It takes time, money, energy, confidence, and sometimes privacy. Products then appear “accessible” because a disabled person has managed to force a way through, even where the design itself has excluded us from using the product fully and reliably.

The barriers differ across disability experiences. A device that communicates only through sound can leave Deaf and hard of hearing users without vital information. Controls requiring fine precision, force, or repeated physical effort can be inaccessible for people living with pain, fatigue, mobility limitations, or reduced dexterity. Busy, inflexible interfaces can overwhelm or exclude people with cognitive disabilities and neurodivergent people. Voice assistants cannot serve everyone, especially people whose speech is not reliably recognised.

Manufacturers have choices. A touchscreen appliance can include tactile controls and meaningful feedback. Digital instructions can be made accessible. Settings can be simplified and personalised. Disabled people can be included while products are being researched, designed, tested, and supported. These approaches recognise that disabled people are customers, experts in our own access needs, and members of every household.

Sharing adaptations with each other remains important because people need solutions today. We also need to expect more from society, from businesses, and from the institutions responsible for consumer access. When access barriers are treated as individual problems for disabled people to solve, exclusion becomes routine. Naming the barrier, reporting it, supporting disability led advocacy, and insisting on inclusive design can help shift that expectation.

#AccessibleDesign #DisabilityJustice #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs

I stand in my kitchen wanting to use an appliance I have already paid for. Its smooth touchscreen gives me no tactile information. I use a camera app to find the controls, place markers where I think buttons may appear, and hope the layout has not changed. One accidental tap can take me somewhere I cannot identify or exit without sighted help. A task that should take moments becomes a process requiring concentration, technology, and luck.

Many disabled people know this experience. We become skilled at adapting. We label buttons, memorise layouts, ask friends or family to help with setup, search for accessible workarounds, and learn to make do with only part of what a product offers. Those strategies can be useful, and they can protect our independence in the moment.

Yet the effort is rarely recognised as work. It takes time, money, energy, confidence, and sometimes privacy. Products then appear “accessible” because a disabled person has managed to force a way through, even where the design itself has excluded us from using the product fully and reliably.

The barriers differ across disability experiences. A device that communicates only through sound can leave Deaf and hard of hearing users without vital information. Controls requiring fine precision, force, or repeated physical effort can be inaccessible for people living with pain, fatigue, mobility limitations, or reduced dexterity. Busy, inflexible interfaces can overwhelm or exclude people with cognitive disabilities and neurodivergent people. Voice assistants cannot serve everyone, especially people whose speech is not reliably recognised.

Manufacturers have choices. A touchscreen appliance can include tactile controls and meaningful feedback. Digital instructions can be made accessible. Settings can be simplified and personalised. Disabled people can be included while products are being researched, designed, tested, and supported. These approaches recognise that disabled people are customers, experts in our own access needs, and members of every household.

Sharing adaptations with each other remains important because people need solutions today. We also need to expect more from society, from businesses, and from the institutions responsible for consumer access. When access barriers are treated as individual problems for disabled people to solve, exclusion becomes routine. Naming the barrier, reporting it, supporting disability led advocacy, and insisting on inclusive design can help shift that expectation.

#AccessibleDesign #DisabilityJustice #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs

I stand in my kitchen wanting to use an appliance I have already paid for. Its smooth touchscreen gives me no tactile information. I use a camera app to find the controls, place markers where I think buttons may appear, and hope the layout has not changed. One accidental tap can take me somewhere I cannot identify or exit without sighted help. A task that should take moments becomes a process requiring concentration, technology, and luck.

Many disabled people know this experience. We become skilled at adapting. We label buttons, memorise layouts, ask friends or family to help with setup, search for accessible workarounds, and learn to make do with only part of what a product offers. Those strategies can be useful, and they can protect our independence in the moment.

Yet the effort is rarely recognised as work. It takes time, money, energy, confidence, and sometimes privacy. Products then appear “accessible” because a disabled person has managed to force a way through, even where the design itself has excluded us from using the product fully and reliably.

The barriers differ across disability experiences. A device that communicates only through sound can leave Deaf and hard of hearing users without vital information. Controls requiring fine precision, force, or repeated physical effort can be inaccessible for people living with pain, fatigue, mobility limitations, or reduced dexterity. Busy, inflexible interfaces can overwhelm or exclude people with cognitive disabilities and neurodivergent people. Voice assistants cannot serve everyone, especially people whose speech is not reliably recognised.

Manufacturers have choices. A touchscreen appliance can include tactile controls and meaningful feedback. Digital instructions can be made accessible. Settings can be simplified and personalised. Disabled people can be included while products are being researched, designed, tested, and supported. These approaches recognise that disabled people are customers, experts in our own access needs, and members of every household.

Sharing adaptations with each other remains important because people need solutions today. We also need to expect more from society, from businesses, and from the institutions responsible for consumer access. When access barriers are treated as individual problems for disabled people to solve, exclusion becomes routine. Naming the barrier, reporting it, supporting disability led advocacy, and insisting on inclusive design can help shift that expectation.

#AccessibleDesign #DisabilityJustice #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs

I stand in my kitchen wanting to use an appliance I have already paid for. Its smooth touchscreen gives me no tactile information. I use a camera app to find the controls, place markers where I think buttons may appear, and hope the layout has not changed. One accidental tap can take me somewhere I cannot identify or exit without sighted help. A task that should take moments becomes a process requiring concentration, technology, and luck.

Many disabled people know this experience. We become skilled at adapting. We label buttons, memorise layouts, ask friends or family to help with setup, search for accessible workarounds, and learn to make do with only part of what a product offers. Those strategies can be useful, and they can protect our independence in the moment.

Yet the effort is rarely recognised as work. It takes time, money, energy, confidence, and sometimes privacy. Products then appear “accessible” because a disabled person has managed to force a way through, even where the design itself has excluded us from using the product fully and reliably.

The barriers differ across disability experiences. A device that communicates only through sound can leave Deaf and hard of hearing users without vital information. Controls requiring fine precision, force, or repeated physical effort can be inaccessible for people living with pain, fatigue, mobility limitations, or reduced dexterity. Busy, inflexible interfaces can overwhelm or exclude people with cognitive disabilities and neurodivergent people. Voice assistants cannot serve everyone, especially people whose speech is not reliably recognised.

Manufacturers have choices. A touchscreen appliance can include tactile controls and meaningful feedback. Digital instructions can be made accessible. Settings can be simplified and personalised. Disabled people can be included while products are being researched, designed, tested, and supported. These approaches recognise that disabled people are customers, experts in our own access needs, and members of every household.

Sharing adaptations with each other remains important because people need solutions today. We also need to expect more from society, from businesses, and from the institutions responsible for consumer access. When access barriers are treated as individual problems for disabled people to solve, exclusion becomes routine. Naming the barrier, reporting it, supporting disability led advocacy, and insisting on inclusive design can help shift that expectation.

#AccessibleDesign #DisabilityJustice #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs

I stand in my kitchen wanting to use an appliance I have already paid for. Its smooth touchscreen gives me no tactile information. I use a camera app to find the controls, place markers where I think buttons may appear, and hope the layout has not changed. One accidental tap can take me somewhere I cannot identify or exit without sighted help. A task that should take moments becomes a process requiring concentration, technology, and luck.

Many disabled people know this experience. We become skilled at adapting. We label buttons, memorise layouts, ask friends or family to help with setup, search for accessible workarounds, and learn to make do with only part of what a product offers. Those strategies can be useful, and they can protect our independence in the moment.

Yet the effort is rarely recognised as work. It takes time, money, energy, confidence, and sometimes privacy. Products then appear “accessible” because a disabled person has managed to force a way through, even where the design itself has excluded us from using the product fully and reliably.

The barriers differ across disability experiences. A device that communicates only through sound can leave Deaf and hard of hearing users without vital information. Controls requiring fine precision, force, or repeated physical effort can be inaccessible for people living with pain, fatigue, mobility limitations, or reduced dexterity. Busy, inflexible interfaces can overwhelm or exclude people with cognitive disabilities and neurodivergent people. Voice assistants cannot serve everyone, especially people whose speech is not reliably recognised.

Manufacturers have choices. A touchscreen appliance can include tactile controls and meaningful feedback. Digital instructions can be made accessible. Settings can be simplified and personalised. Disabled people can be included while products are being researched, designed, tested, and supported. These approaches recognise that disabled people are customers, experts in our own access needs, and members of every household.

Sharing adaptations with each other remains important because people need solutions today. We also need to expect more from society, from businesses, and from the institutions responsible for consumer access. When access barriers are treated as individual problems for disabled people to solve, exclusion becomes routine. Naming the barrier, reporting it, supporting disability led advocacy, and insisting on inclusive design can help shift that expectation.

#AccessibleDesign #DisabilityJustice #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs

Not enough people understand narcissism.

Trump’s behavior is classic narcissistic, addict behavior. He’s actually very predictable.

It’s all about Trump.
It’s all about survival.
It’s all about getting to the next day.
No matter the costs.

#trump #uspol #donjr #mentalhealth #disabilityjustice

Heute ist der Internationale Tag der Menschen mit Behinderung und ich denke an mein jüngeres Ich. An einen jungen Menschen, dem niemand zutraute, jemals sichtbar zu sein. Der ohne Vorbilder aufwuchs, in einer Welt, die behinderte Leben klein hält.⬇️

#InternationalerTagDerMenschenMitBehinderung #Behinderung #Inklusion #Inkluencer #Disability #FaceSMA #DisabilityJustice #DisabledAndProud #BarrierefreiheitJetzt #CripPride #DisabledVoices #HumanRights #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs #DisabilityPower

Wenn Menschen wie ich politisch Stellung beziehen, kommt sofort der immer gleiche alte ableistische Reflex: Wir seien "missbraucht", "vorgeschoben" oder "manipuliert". Dahinter steckt kein Zufall, es ist eine Strategie.⬇️

#DisabilityJustice #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs #Disability #IntersectionalFeminism #QueerAndDisabled #AntiAbleism #Ableism #AntiRacism #QueerResistance #DisabledAndProud #Solidarity #Solidarität #Inklusion #SolidarityIsPower #MarginalizedVoices #Behinderung #FaceSMA

Für manche bedeuten Seile Begrenzung. Für mich bedeuten sie Befreiung. Mein Körper ist kein Widerspruch zu Lust, Kontrolle oder Hingabe. Bondage gibt mir den Raum, in dem ich bestimmen darf, wie ich gehalten werde und von wem.⬇️

Foto by @fotokunst_razupaltuffsp

#DisabledAndDesirable #Consent #ConsentIsEverything #Kink #Selbstliebe #BDSMCommunity #Bondage #Intimacy #RadikaleZärtlichkeit #DisabilityJustice #Disability #ShibariArt #BDSM #Behinderung #BodyAutonomy #SensualResistance

📢 Werkstätten sind keine Inklusion. Sie sind organisierte Ausgrenzung.

👉 Über 300.000 Menschen arbeiten in Deutschland in Werkstätten. Für 1,35 €/h. Ohne Tariflohn. Ohne Arbeitnehmerrechte.⬇️

#Werkstätten #Mindestlohn #Disability #Inkluencer #Inklusion #Behinderung #AbleismKills #Ableism #DisabilityJustice #UNBRKUmsetzen #Selbstbestimmung #CripTheSystem #InklusionJetzt #EqualRights #DisabledAndProud #StopAbleism #SolidarityIsPolitical #IntersektionaleGerechtigkeit #Menschenrechte

Manchmal braucht der eigene Körper einfach nur die Chance, endlich sein zu dürfen. ✨
⬇️

#TransIsBeautiful #DisabledAndProud #DisabilityPride #Disability #Behinderung #Queer #Trans #TransPride #BodyAutonomy #QueerAndDisabled #DisabilityVisibility #TransHealthcare #HRTworks #TraumaHealing #TransJoy #DisabledJoy #BodyPositivity #TransAktivismus #IntersectionalFeminism #DisabilityJustice #StigmaKills #MentalHealthHealing #QueerActivism #LoveYourself #HealingJourney