I’m taking a stand against so-called political correctness. Recently, during a meeting of one of my writing organizations, Behind Our Eyes, we discussed the use of language in writing. This got me thinking about how I’ve never liked the term “people with disabilities.” It’s too wordy, like saying, “cats with blackness” or cars with whiteness.” We normally say, “black cats” and “white cars” so why not “disabled people.”
Being disabled is part of who a person is. A cat isn’t ashamed to be black, and a car isn’t ashamed to be white. So, people with physical or mental impairments should never be ashamed to be disabled people.
That said, I’ll no longer refer to writers with disabilities. I’ll say, “disabled writers.” Instead of telling people that I have a visual impairment, I’ll say I’m visually impaired. It’s a part of who I am, and I’m not ashamed of it.
By the way, today, my totally blind and partially paralyzed late husband and I would have been married fourteen years. Rest in peace, sweetheart. I love you.
Copyright July 2019 by DLD Books
When Eve went to her high school senior prom, she wore a red dress that her mother had made for her. That night, after dancing with the boy of her dreams, she caught him in the act with her best friend. Months later, Eve, a freshman in college, is bullied into giving the dress to her roommate. After her mother finds out, their relationship is never the same again.
Twenty-five years later, Eve, a bestselling author, is happily married with three children. Although her mother suffers from dementia, she still remembers, and Eve still harbors the guilt for giving the dress away. When she receives a Facebook friend request from her old college roommate and an invitation to her twenty-five-year high school class reunion, then meets her former best friend by chance, she must confront the past in order to face the future.