On July 26, a day when I should have been celebrating the anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act, I was attempting to process the news of an unimaginable hate crime. Instead of gathering with my disabled peers in joy, I was sobbing as I imagined what the victims had experienced during and after the massacre in Sagamihara, Japan.
You haven’t heard about the massacre? I would bet you aren’t the only one.
Around 2:20 AM, a former employee of a residential facility for the disabled in Sagamihara committed the largest mass killing in Japan since World War II. He broke into the building, tied up the staff members, and stabbed the disabled residents, killing 19 and injuring 26. The victims ranged in age from 18 to 70, both male and female. Most were stabbed in the neck. throat, and chest as they slept in their beds.
I waited for the “mainstream media” to cover the story. After all, hate crimes and terrorist acts have been receiving a great deal of attention. Nice, Brussels, Orlando, Paris, Munich – I’m guessing you recognize recent stories related to these places.
Instead, I read stories like this Japan Times article which described the crime as a “mercy killing.” According to the article, the killer believed he was providing mercy to the victims’ caregivers because “it would be better if the disabled disappeared.”
There was no mass outcry of horror and disbelief. There were no large expressions of sympathy and solidarity.
Then, slowly the messages began to come from the worldwide disability community as they wrote social media updates, blog posts and essays. Reading them, I was grateful for these brave writers who took the time to capture the loss, rage, sadness and fear so many of us felt. I was able to share their work when I lacked the energy and stamina to compose my own response to this terrible act.
I tried to write. I attempted to find words to express my emotional response. If ever there was a time when I needed to add my voice to help draw attention to an event, this was it. But whenever I tried, I got stuck in the same mental prison.
Those nameless victims? They were me. If I had been a resident in that facility, I would have been one of those who went to sleep one night in July only to have my throat slashed while trapped in my bed, unable to escape injury or death.
The victims’ only crime – my only crime? Being born disabled. Less than. A burden. Incompetent.
Murders of disabled people are incorrectly called “mercy killings” by media outlets because of the ableist belief that disabled lives are so invaluable or unbearable that our murders are acts of mercy. Don’t believe me? Remember Tania Clarence – the mother who killed her three disabled children and was only charged with manslaughter? I wrote about the case in this post. How about the mother who received a charge of involuntary manslaughter for VOLUNTARILY poisoning her disabled daughter and killing her? If the victims of these crimes had not been disabled, would the charges have been more severe?
Writing about the massacre has also been difficult because my own personal care situation has been strained for the past month. Last summer – almost exactly a year ago – I wrote about how life is different when personal needs are met. Just this past month, I have had two Personal Assistants (PAs) out of work for hospitalizations; one out due to a broken foot; one out due to complications with her pregnancy; and one out due to a family emergency. These are legitimate reasons to be absent from work. But my need to use the toilet, get dressed, eat, get in and out of bed, work, live – insert action of your choice here – does not stop just because I do not have my regular staff available to work for me. Yes, I have other staff but they are not always available to work at a moment’s notice. If it were not for the support and assistance from family and friends, I would have no choice but to rely on institutional care like my disabled peers in Japan.
Facing a crisis in personal care, knowing that I would be institutionalized without the generosity and kindness of a support network I have carefully cultivated, and reading about the murder of innocent disabled people in a setting where they should have been safe – well, writing has not been a priority in my life. It is a shame, because I need the therapeutic outlet of writing even more when I am stressed and emotional.
I really need to write. I am a writer – and writers need to write.
So, I set a goal to post something – anything – about Japan this weekend. I am not certain this post captures everything I want to say about it, but at this point it is the best I can do. To the friends and family who have reached out to me since the tragedy in late July, I appreciate your kind words. Thank you for sharing stories and for helping to call attention to this tragedy. We owe it to the victims to continue to fight against the stigma and negative attitudes towards the disability community. We must ensure all life is valued, so nobody has to fear that society views their life as a burden or expendable.
Because that disabled person trapped in an institutional bed? That person is not just me. It’s you.